#to get what he wants and then he walks away

[kamitv]

“God damn,” Toji groaned, head tossed back, lips wet and parted, and fingers digging into your hips, “Yeah-, fuck, ride this dick like it’s yours, doll.”

Your pussy sunk down on his thick cock, swallowing up his every inch lewdly as your jaw hang open, broken moans of his name leaving your throat.

“T-Tojii, fuck-, y-you’re too-, mmgh! T-Too big,”

His cock snaps up into you as you sink your hips down and your eyes cross, his dick was so big and thick, filling you up all too perfectly and stretching you open as you rode him.

“Y’takin’ it jus’ fine tho,” He huffs out with a lazy grin spread across his face, “So glad you walked in when you did-, fuck.”

You bit your lower lip to conceal a moan, a small whimper slipping out as you do so before you huff out a response to him, “Pervert,” You whisper.

Toji tips his head up and his eyes meet yours, sharp and pointed gaze locked onto your fucked-out features, “Hm? What was that?”

You gulp and quickly glance off to the side, feeling as he thrusts up into you again, “N-Nothing-, nngh…”

“Uhuh,” Toji tuts, his grin transcending into a cocky smile, “Call me a pervert again ‘nd see what happens.”

Heat rushes to your face as you recall how the hell you got in this position in the first place.

You didn’t intend to walk in on your roommate jerking off and you surely didn’t intend to bounce on his cock moments later but then again, your roommate is Toji Fushiguro.

How could you formulate the word no to him once help was requested of you. ‘It’ll be quick’, he said, ‘c’mon, y’know you want me anyway’, he claimed— all as he continued stroking his cock and tempting you like crazy.

You were going to say no and then apologize for walking in for the tenth time in a row but then he groaned out your name and you felt a throb in your core, you couldn't get yourself to move. His voice was so damn low and gruff with you, grunting your name as he shamelessly jerked off not too far away from you.

Your face was burning with embarrassment and you wanted to leave his room but your feet were stuck in place and your eyes had finally dropped down to his cock. It wasn’t like you’ve never seen one before but fuck was he huge.

Thick from the base up, bulging veins decorating his shaft, tip dripping in precum and what seemed to be spit, his hand which was damn there equally as big, pulling and tugging on his dick so messily that it had you in a trance. Then he’d groan and grunt, eyes boring into your still frame as if he were jerking off to you.

And he was. You didn’t realize it until he let out a pant and moaned lowly, “So fuckin’ sexy, shit.” That was when you snapped out of your frozen stupor and lifted your gaze, meeting his and swallowing hard.

His eyes were everywhere on you, from the loose shirt you had hanging off of you and down to your exposed thighs— he was drinking you in and getting off to it. Your overly attractive roommate was getting off to you.

You didn't even know what you were supposed to say at that point because he wasn’t kicking you out of his room yet and you weren’t leaving, “Toji, I-“

“Fuuuck, jus’ come over here already,” He breathed out heavily.

You didn’t hesitate for once. Normally you’re fidgety and timid around him but for the first time since he’s moved in with you, your feet were moving on their own and you were nearing the bed he was in.

Once you were there you again had no clue what it is you were supposed to do. That was, until he moved to raise two fingers and beckoned you closer.

Mounting yourself onto his bed and slowly crawling toward him, your lashes fluttered carefully, “What… What do you want me to uh… do, exactly?”

You’re definitely not a virgin but you were basically acting like one.

Toji reaches over to you, carefully, questioningly even, before his hand reaches the side of your neck, tugging your expression closer to his. Face to face with him, your breath left your throat and your gaze instantly dropped down to his lips and how close they were to yours.

His head tipped to the side and his eyes were on your lips, looking as soft as ever as he leaned in. You didn’t pull away and he stopped barely even a hair’s length away from you.

“Do you want this?” Was all he asked and your heart was jumping within your chest, a shaky nod given to him in response. Toji wasn’t satisfied with that so he scoffs, “Use your words, pretty girl.”

You swallow hard but your answer is relatively quick, “Y-Yeah, yes-“

Then his lips were pressing into yours. The kiss was rough but oddly sweet, one of your hands moving to comfort yourself as you unconsciously placed it on his muscular thigh. He groaned into your mouth before shoving his tongue in, lapping up the inside of your mouth and swallowing you up entirely.

Toji’s body was hot and it took you a second to ease into him. Kissing him already had you whining and humming desperately against his mouth but it only worsened when his hand left his cock and began to touch you.

First it was your waist and he carefully tugged you closer to him, his lips prying from yours just to whisper, “You want me?” He asked.

His question made your heart flutter and your mind felt like it was spiraling, “Mhm.”

Toji smirks as if he already knew the answer to his question prior to asking, “Then get on top of me,” He instructs.

And that’s roughly how you got into the position you’re in now— hips bucking against Toji as his heavy cock knocked around your insides, breast jumping in front of his face, and cries of his name filling the bedroom.

Even though you were on top, Toji was still very much in control. His big hands were locked onto your hips, forcing you to fuck your cunt down onto his fat cock over and over again.

He had you delirious and cockdrunk in minutes, it was almost embarrassing.

A hand would slap against your ass and your body would jump in reaction. Then there’s Toji’s voice that made your pussy squelch around his length.

“Jus’ like that, doll. Fuck me, c’mon, you can do it,” His tone was so rough but his words were oddly sweet, despite the way he guided your hips on him and thrusted up into you so meanly.

His thick tip pounded up into this one spot inside you and you were gasping and babbling his name— trying your best to keep up with the man but ultimately failing.

Then, every time you tried to turn your head away from him, he’d bring a rough hand up to your jaw and force you to look at him. “Thought’ I told you about that? Want you t’look at me while you fuck me, pretty girl. S’not that hard, is it?” He taunted.

You frown at him and suddenly his hands go to your hips. Then your body was tipping back and he was switching positions.

Your back hit the mattress before you could process what was going on and his cock thrusted deeper into you, making your jaw drop and your eyes widen.

Your legs were going up and the most you could muster was a strangled gasp, “Fuck! T-Toji-, mmgh..”

“This better for ya’?” He teased with a cocky tilt of his head, “Can y’keep your eyes on me now?" He asked while folding your body into a mean mating press, his larger frame pressing down into yours and stripping air from your lungs instantly as his cock dipped deeper in between your sopping folds.

Dragging his hips up torturously slow, he eyes down your expression as he thrusts back in-- hard and heavy. Your entire face twists up in pleasure and he watches the way your jaw drops and a sweet moan pours out of your mouth.

"Mhm, look at'cha, y'like this don't you-- gettin' folded up and stuffed?" Toji huffs.

His voice alone had you weak underneath him, wide teary eyes peering into his as you laid there with your mouth hanging open so foolishly, "Uhuh." You utter with a nod.

"Fuck, you're cute like this, roomie," He hums as he slowly tips his head to the side, "Can't talk when you're gettin' fucked can you?" A quick shake of your head is all he receives from you and it makes him grunt, "Yeah? Hah, knew you wanted me all this time. Y'should've said somethin' doll, always givin' me those looks."

Your brows pinch together and his claim throws you off, "W-What looks?" You murmur quietly.

Toji groans and the weight of his body over yours along with his cock drilling into you has your body sinking down into the mattress, "Oh don't act clueless. I've seen the way you look at me," He points out to you with a lil' smirk on his face-- god you can't stand him sometimes.

Pouting, "I-I don't-"

"No need t'lie about it now," Toji cuts off. He knows you far too well after living with you for so long, "You can be honest," His voice is a bit gentler.

And maybe it was because he'd seen you gawk at his body thousands of times that he considered himself being nice to you right now but either way-- the look on your face was making his cock twitch inside you. You'd appeared as though you'd finally been caught doing something you weren't supposed to.

Softly, you just gaze up at him, "I..."

Toji scoffs, "You..? Go onnn," He's leaning his face down closer to yours and his cock is practically splitting you open, tip digging impossibly deeper, "Spit it out."

"F-Fuck, okay-," You finally give into him, despite not putting up too much of a fight, "Hah, y-yeah, I do check you out sometimes-"

Toji's smiling already, "Sometimes?' He challenges.

As his words leave him, your legs are dangling up over his shoulder and fuck you couldn’t move one bit. "All the time,” You gasp, a cute whine exiting your throat seconds later.

"Mhm, bet you thought about this a few times, huh?" Toji continues to chastise you as if the bed he were fucking you into wasn’t starting to creak and rattle below you.

Your brows pinch together and you give him such confused doe-like eyes, "Hm?"

Toji smirks and you feel his cockhead dragging in and out inside your pussy, "Y'know, gettin' your pretty lil cunt fucked like this,” He utters vulgarly.

Your body twitches and you can feel yourself coming close, "Fuck.”

"Mmh, keep squeezin' 'round me like that,” He encourages, heavy balls smacking against your ass, cock splitting you open and leaving you dumb within’ seconds.

"Toji," You call out, unsure of why but moaning his name anyway.

He nods before glancing to your lips, "Mhm, open ya’ mouth f’me, pretty.” You begin to do just that and he smiles, “Nice ‘nd wide, yeahhhh…” Then he’s spitting right onto your tongue, fucking you rougher, and watching the way you moan because of his actions.

"Mmgh…” You swallow down the messy wad of saliva he’d just gifted you— eyes all teary as you blearily keep your eyes up on his.

The sight of you swallowing his spit makes him absolutely feral. You could see his pupils dilating and suddenly his fucking you harder and his grunts are getting huskier. His cock was so damn thick in girth, throbbing veins rubbing all against your plush walls at such a rough pace that your legs felt like pure putty within his hold.

“S’too much, fuck-," You gasp out sharply, your hands sliding down to his chest and giving Toji the slightest push.

The feel of your nails grazing his tense skin makes him let out a low groan, "Aht aht, stop that, don't start pushin' me away,” He hums to you almost sweetly. Then he’s pressing his body weight even further onto you, his leaking tip bullying your cervix with each thrust, “You can take me." Toji whispers to you.

Your head is shaking immediately and you’re just babbling to the man, "C-Can't Toji, m'gonna cum."

"Go ahead then, cum on my cock. Get it nice 'nd messy f'me,” He rasps as his eyes roll back with the way your pussy was clamping around his hard cock. "Yeahhh, there you goo,” He coos, leaning up slightly just to look at the sight of you below him all fucked out as you reach your high, “Look s'pretty creamin' on me like that, fuck."

He’s not too far behind you in the slightest. The simple sight of you still weakly trying to get him to slow down as he fucks you through your orgasm was enough to have him emptying himself inside you within seconds. Your eyes were all glossed over, lips swollen and pouty from kisses, cheeks wet with a few tears, and body fucking perfect beneath him.

Toji may have teased you earlier about the way you’ve been looking at him ever since the two of you started living together but fuck, he knows damn well this is all he’s wanted ever since he first set his eyes on you.

A/N: Had this sitting in my drafts for a while, hope you guys enjoyed <33

[ponderingmoonlight]

How JJK Men React to Seeing You in Their Clothes

Pairings: Gojo x fem!reader; Megumi x fem!reader; Yuta x fem!reader; Nanami x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,5k

Warnings: fluff over fluff, I'm pretty sure I already wrote something like this but I can't find it anymore lol, all scenarios talk about the clothes of the said jjk men being big on you so please don't read if this isn't what you vibe with (but feel free to let me know if you want a version in which their clothes actually fit reader quite well!)

Gojo Satoru

The apartment is unusually quiet as you move through the living room, your bare feet padding lightly across the cool floor. Gojo had left early this morning to deal with some “business,” leaving you alone with nothing but a mess of his belongings scattered around. You’re not one to complain though - cleaning up after him has become second nature after spending so much time together.

As you tidy up his place, you come across one of his oversized hoodies. It’s sprawled across the back of a chair, still slightly wrinkled from when he wore it the night before. The faint scent of his cologne lingers in the fabric, and for reasons you can’t quite explain, you find yourself reaching for it.

It’s soft, much softer than you expected. You hold it for a moment, staring at it thoughtfully before a mischievous grin tugs at your lips. You slip the hoodie over your head, the fabric swallowing you whole. The sleeves are comically long, almost covering your hands completely, and the hemline reaches down to your thighs. It’s so big that it feels like you’re wearing a blanket, and despite yourself, you giggle at the sight of your reflection in the hallway mirror.

You sit down on the couch, pulling your legs up under the hoodie, and let yourself relax into the comfort of wearing something that smells like him. His signature cologne that follows him around wherever he goes, that makes your heart skip a beat every time you smell it. To be honest, you really miss him. These past weeks were so busy that you didn’t really get the chance to see him more than 2 hours before passing out sleeping. What you’d do for a whole afternoon, just you and him…

Not long after, you hear the oh so accustomed sound of the door unlocking, followed by the familiar voice of Satoru calling out, “I’m home!”

You stiffen for a moment, wondering how he’ll react, but you can’t hide now. Fuck, you never wore his clothes before. After all, they belong to him and you have no right to grab his stuff as you please.

Before you can say anything to defend yourself, Gojo steps into the living room, his bright blue eyes immediately locking onto you.

There’s a beat of silence. Then, a slow, amused grin spreads across his face.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” he teases, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed.

His sunglasses are perched on his head, revealing his crystalline eyes that seem to glow with delight.

“Did you raid my closet while I was gone?”

You roll your eyes, trying to play it cool despite the sudden warmth creeping up your neck.

“Your place was cold. Figured I’d borrow something.”

Gojo doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he walks over to you, crouching in front of the couch as he eyes you up and down. His grin widens as he takes in the way the hoodie completely engulfs you, making you look even smaller than usual.

“Looks good on you,” he murmurs, his voice lower now, laced with something playful but undeniably affectionate.

He reaches out, tugging on one of the oversized sleeves gently.

“In fact, I think it suits you better than it does me.”

You scoff, though your heart skips a beat at the way he’s looking at you, like you’re the most fascinating thing in the world.

“You think everything looks good on me.”

“That’s because it does.”

His grin is infuriatingly confident, but there’s a softness in his gaze that makes your breath catch.

“But you, wearing my clothes? I think that might be my favorite look.”

He leans closer, his nose brushing against your temple before pressing a soft kiss there.

“You can keep it if you want,” he whispers, his breath warm against your skin.

“I don’t think I’m getting it back anyway.”

Megumi Fushiguro

It’s early morning, the sun just beginning to rise over the horizon, casting a soft glow over Megumi’s small apartment. He’s still asleep, his dark hair a mess of unruly strands as he breathes softly beside you. You’ve been staying with him for the weekend, a rare break from the chaos of jujutsu sorcery.

As you quietly slip out of bed, careful not to wake him, you feel the cool air hit your skin. Without thinking, you look around the room for something to cover yourself with. Your eyes land on one of Megumi’s plain black shirts, tossed haphazardly over the back of a chair. It’s oversized, much bigger than anything you’d typically wear, but you shrug and grab it anyway.

Slipping it over your head, the fabric is soft and familiar, carrying the faint scent of him. It hangs loosely on your frame, the sleeves too long and the hem falling halfway down your thighs. You glance at yourself in the mirror, a small smile tugging at your lips. There’s something comforting about wearing his clothes, like having a part of him with you even when he’s asleep.

As you turn back toward the bed, you freeze. Megumi’s awake. His dark eyes are half-lidded, still clouded with sleep as he watches you from the bed. You can’t quite read his expression -it’s a mixture of surprise, confusion, and something else you can’t place.

“You’re up early,” he mutters, his voice still thick with sleep.

You shrug, feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze.

“Couldn’t sleep. I didn’t think you’d mind if I borrowed your shirt.”

Megumi blinks, his gaze drifting over you slowly. He doesn’t say anything right away, but you can see the way his eyes linger on the way the shirt swallows you, how it looks like you’re drowning in fabric. After a long moment, he finally speaks, his voice quieter than before.

“It looks good on you,” he finally speaks out, a little awkwardly, as if he’s not quite sure how to compliment you.

“Better than it does on me.”

You can’t help but laugh at how flustered he seems, even though he’s trying to play it cool.

“Really? I think it’s a little big.”

Megumi shakes his head, sitting up in bed and running a hand through his messy hair.

“No. It’s perfect.”

He pauses for a moment before adding, almost shyly,

“You should wear my stuff more often.”

His words catch you off guard, and you raise an eyebrow at him, surprised. Even though you know all too well that Megumi Fushiguro has a soft spot for you, you never really thought about stealing or borrowing his stuff. After all, he is the guy who slaps the back of Yuji’s head each and every day over stealing his sandwich or equipment. And now…he’s telling you straightforward that he wants you to wear his shirts?

“You want me to?”

He looks away, his usual stoic mask slipping just a bit as a faint blush creeps up his cheeks.

“I mean... yeah. It suits you.”

Your heart skips a beat at his admission. Megumi isn’t one for big, flowery declarations, but this, this small, almost hesitant compliment, is enough to make your chest warm. You walk over to him, climbing back into bed and curling up beside him like you always do after waking up.

“Well, if you insist,” you mutter teasingly, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“I might just steal more of your clothes.”

Megumi huffs, but there’s a softness in his eyes as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

“Go ahead,” he mumbles, tugging at the hem of his loose shirt.

“I don’t mind.”

Yuta Okkotsu

You’ve been staying at Yuta’s apartment for the past few days, crashing at his place while you’re both on a break from missions. It’s been nice: quiet, peaceful, just the two of you enjoying each other’s company without the usual chaos of jujutsu high looming over you.

It’s late in the evening now, and you’ve just gotten out of the shower, feeling refreshed after a long day. As you towel off your hair, you realize you forgot to grab something to wear. Your suitcase is still in the living room, and you don’t really feel like walking out there in just a towel.

Your groan in frustration over your usual absent-mindlessness, eyes landing on one of Yuta’s old sweatshirts, folded neatly on the chair by his desk. It’s a little worn, clearly well-loved, and the idea of wearing something of his brings a smile to your face. Yuta definitely wouldn’t mind you wearing one of his shirts, right? And even if he did…you’d love to see that little blush creep up his face.

Without thinking twice, you pull the sweatshirt over your head. It’s oversized, the sleeves long enough to cover your hands, and the fabric is soft and cozy against your skin.

You’re adjusting the sleeves when the door creaks open slightly. You look up just as Yuta steps into the room, his eyes widening in surprise when he sees you.

“Oh, hey-” he starts, but then he freezes, his gaze locking onto the sweatshirt you’re wearing.

His face flushes almost instantly, a deep red creeping up his cheeks as he stares at you.

“Uh… is that…?”, Yuta stammers, clearly flustered.

You glance down at the sweatshirt and smile sheepishly.

“Yeah, I hope you don’t mind. I forgot to grab my clothes, and this looked comfortable.”

Yuta blinks, his face still bright red, but he quickly shakes his head.

“No! I mean, I don’t mind at all! It’s just… you look… um…”

He trails off, his eyes flicking away as if he’s too embarrassed to finish the sentence.

You giggle softly, stepping closer to him, to tease the hell out of him even more. That poor innocent boy who doesn’t even dare looking your direction when you stumble in the bathroom in the morning with noting but a shirt and panties on.

Even though you’ve been together for over a year by now.

“I look… what?”

Yuta clears his throat, still avoiding your gaze.

“You look… really cute,” he mutters, barely audible.

“In my sweatshirt, I mean.”

Your heart swells at his words, and you can’t help but smile as you reach out and take his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Thanks, Yuta.”

He finally meets your gaze, his face still red but his expression softening as he squeezes your hand back.

“You can wear my clothes anytime you want,” he says quietly, a shy smile tugging at his lips.

You grin, stepping closer and wrapping your arms around his waist.

“I might just take you up on that.”

Yuta chuckles, his arms wrapping around you in return as he pulls you close.

 “I wouldn’t mind,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“Not at all.”

Nanami Kento

It’s late, and Nanami is still out on a mission. You’ve been waiting for him to come home, but the clock is ticking past midnight, and exhaustion is beginning to catch up with you. After all, you’ve had a long and exhausting day at work yourself.

You’re curled up on the couch, half-asleep, when the chill of the evening air prompts you to grab something warmer to wear.

Your own clothes are in the bedroom, and you don’t feel like moving that far. Instead, your eyes land on one of Nanami’s neatly folded dress shirts, sitting on the back of a chair. It’s probably not the warmest option, but the idea of wearing something of his feels comforting, like having a part of him with you while you wait for him to return.

You slip the shirt on, the crisp fabric soft against your skin. It’s too big, of course, the sleeves hanging past your wrists and the hem falling almost to your knees, but it’s cozy in its own way. You curl up on the couch again, pulling the sleeves over your hands and breathing in the faint scent of him that still lingers on the fabric.

You don’t realize you’ve dozed off until the sound of the front door opening stirs you awake. You sit up groggily, blinking as Nanami steps inside, looking tired but unharmed. He pauses when he sees you, his eyes widening slightly as he takes in the sight of you wearing his shirt.

For a moment, neither of you say anything. Then, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugs at the corner of Nanami’s lips.

“You’re wearing my shirt,” he observes, his voice calm but with a hint of amusement.

You rub your eyes sleepily, nodding.

“It was cold, and I didn’t feel like getting up.”

Nanami walks over to you, his expression soft as he takes in the sight of you.

 “It suits you,” he murmurs, his voice low and warm.

“I didn’t expect to come home to this.”

You shrug, feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze.

“If you don’t like it, I can-”

“I like it,” he cuts in, his tone firm but gentle.

He reaches out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before his hand lingers at your cheek.

“I like it very much.”

You smile, leaning into his touch as you look up at him.

“I might have to borrow your clothes more often, then.”

Nanami chuckles softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek before he leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

“You’re welcome to them,” he breathes out.

“Though I have to admit, you make my clothes look much better than I do.”

You laugh softly, your heart warming at his rare display of affection.

“I doubt that.”

Nanami shakes his head, his eyes soft and filled with affection as he looks at you.

“It’s true. But regardless, you’re welcome to them anytime” he insists.

With that, he sits down beside you on the couch, pulling you into his side as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. You snuggle into him, the warmth of his body and the comfort of his shirt making you feel safe and content.

“Thank you, Kento,” you whisper, closing your eyes as exhaustion starts to pull you back into sleep.

Nanami presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, his voice low and soothing as he murmurs,

“Anytime, love.”

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[ssahotchnerr]

Hello! How are you doing?

I don't have anything extremely specific (sorry, I'm just leaving work and haven't really thought about this).

But if you want to, how about jealous Aaron who has the, very rare, opportunity to go pick up the reader from her job and see her all smiles with another coworker? In this case I was thinking that there might be a age gap between them and the male coworker is more of her age? So a bit of jealous and insecure Hotch?

If you feel comfortable with this of course!

Have a good day 😊

in comparison

cw; fem!reader, age gap, insecure :( and jealous!aaron, some angst, small suggestiveness, fluff <3 wc; 1.2k

You were exiting the building with a few of your colleagues, partaking in what appeared to be an entertaining conversation from Aaron's line of sight. The liveliness on your face was vivid, undoubtedly enjoying whatever the whole of you were collectively discussing.

You looked comfortable, relaxed, happy. You molded into the group well. One of your male colleagues in particular was inching a bit too close, a near awestruck expression on his face as a laugh escaped you. If he took one step to his right, his shoulder would be touching yours. While you were clueless, he was enamored.

Aaron felt his eyes harden involuntarily, a jealous heat swarming through his body; he wanted to march over there and assert his role as yours. However, the feeling wasn't long lasting. A profound sadness climbed up his spine, as he gained a different perspective.

It wasn't that you didn't fit into his life. On the complete contrary: you were the perfect addition.

But something about seeing you with others, with someone closer to your age, was daunting. Intimidating. It sickened him how natural the visual appeared. Reality has smacked him in the face numerous times over the years, he wouldn't be surprised if it happened again. That somehow, someway, you would prefer the latter. The one that had nothing to do with him.

As you walked towards Aaron's car, you glanced back at your coworkers, offering a wave and a smile as they jointly headed to the parking lot. His window was opened a crack, and he heard you call back towards them, "Have fun tonight!"

Aaron exhaled a breath.

"Hey." You chirped as you slid into the passenger seat, leaning over the center console to place a kiss on Aaron's cheek. He was rather stiff as you did so, causing you to lightly scrunch your nose in confusion, pulling away slowly. Something was up.

"Hey," He echoed, greeting you with an almost forced smile. The abruptness of his thoughts had unsettled him deeply - he couldn't shake them. "You ready?"

"As I'll ever be." You responded hesitantly, searching his face as you buckled your seatbelt. You added after a moment, happy to be in his company and the emotion overtaking your heart. "I missed you today."

But your words went unnoticed, as he had already reentered the void that was his unwelcome thoughts.

In result the car ride home was silent, Aaron's pout unfaltering. His mind was plagued by the image of your coworker being in his place, driving you home, or the two of you huddled together amongst a night out with friends. It caused an uncomfortable, sad pit in his stomach.

"You missed a turn."

"What?"

Your statement jolted him back to earth. No he didn't... did he? His eyebrows furrowed in a line, reassessing the current surroundings. Nothing out of the ordinary, all familiar street signs. When he confirmed he, in fact, did not miss a turn, he turned to you, only to find a knowing smirk plastered on your face.

His eyebrows quirked softly, obstructing the line drawn above his eyes. "What was that about?"

"To get your mind off whatever you're stewing about."

A smile threatened his lips, due to your witty expression and observation, "I'm not." His tone found a slightly lighter note - amusingly guilty. Anything but convincing.

"Aaron, darling, you're gonna break some teeth if that," Your playful demeanor dropped for a moment, your eyes tracing back and forth, as if you were in a trance. "Jaw of yours tightens anymore."

Your brief distraction eased a notion of his jealousy, he still had that effect on you, thankfully. He readjusted his grip on the steering wheel, his stare forward.

"So what is it?" You asked, "Did you have a bad day?"

He shook his head.

"Bad bout of cases?"

Aaron grimaced, his knuckles letting up only to secure his fingers over the wheel again, "They're always bad."

"Something I did?"

He opened his mouth to respond, but only silence came out. His hesitation caused your face to fall, your shoulders dropping and posture succumbing to the back of your seat.

"No honey, no you didn't do anything." He was quick to reassure, feeling entirely worse. "I can assure you."

Your eyes met his, needing more.

He sighed defeatedly, surprisingly not afraid to bluntly admit, "I'm jealous."

"Jealous?" You froze, but then it clicked. You gestured behind, as if your colleagues were somehow tailing the two of you. "Of...?"

Aaron bit his lip, nodding slowly.

Your expression lightened, a soft and genuine wonder in your eyes, "Why?"

"Are you okay with this?" Confusion arose on your face once more, so he clarified. "This. Us. You signed up for a lot, quickly at that."

Truth be told, the two of you had progressed at a rate neither of you expected, due to the sheer infatuation you possessed for one another. That, too, had been natural.

"I'm divorced, widowed, a father - I come with baggage. My 'going-out' are days long gone. I don't want you missing out."

"Aaron." In a way, you could laugh. It tore your heart into pieces he was thinking this way, doubting himself but he was clueless in an adorably, idiotic way. In summary, he simply never gave himself the credit he deserved. "What could I possibly be missing out on?"

"You could be spending your weekends out, socializing, with people closer in age. And yet, you're..." He came up with an example. "Making pillow forts. These are supposed to be the best years of your life. I'm terribly boring in comparison."

"Hey, I make a mean pillow fort."

He gave you a look.

Your hand grabbed his bicep affectionately, clinging onto it as if you were knocking some sense into him. "I chose this. I chose you. Jack is the addition to my life I never knew I needed. And I don't want to be out galavanting bar to night club to bar. I jump at the opportunity to deny a night out to spend it in. With you. When have you ever seen me wanting to go out and party?"

An expression of distaste flashed across your face at the concept, and Aaron's head tilted to the side as he considered your point.Yeah, that was true.

"I'm a homebody. And if there's anything I've realized over the course of the past months, you're my home. You."

Aaron let out the breath he didn't know he was holding.

"I know what I'm in for. And I embrace it with open arms. I want it." Your face was content, even more so than when you were talking with your colleagues. "I love you. And I love the life we're creating. It's so special, beyond my wildest dreams."

"Really?" A boyish, hopeful expression graced his face.

"Really. I wouldn't want it any other way. I can promise you. This- you're everything I could ever want."

Aaron's hand found your thigh, giving it a gentle, loving squeeze. "I love you too, sweetheart."

You beamed in response - you'd never get tired of the words leaving his lips.

"That one guy though," Aaron raised his eyebrows, taking a quick glance at you. Envy began creeping back, "He seemed interested. Wasn't a fan of that."

You scoffed, unbothered. "I'm into men, not boys. Which again, you are the utmost depiction of." Your delightful smirk resurfaced, admirably looking him over. "Believe me, I couldn't be more satisfied."

He wanted to play into your suggestive remarks, but he needed further confirmation. Once more. "You sure?"

"Oh, I'm positive."

Finally satisfied himself, he surrendered, "Okay."

"In fact, I can think of a few ways to show you just how much later."

[swordsandholly]

Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor anothology

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist | cw: oral (reader receiving)

Part Ten: Permission

A/N: We're SO back!

You’ve never been so happy to work an extra day.

Johnny gets the shop to himself on Sundays for walk-ins. Usually, he mans the shop by himself but you need to record the cash income from the convention in the ledger. Sure, you could do that during your usual hours the upcoming Wednesday and catch up on sleep, but you have too much nervous energy coursing through you. If you were home you would just be stewing on your couch the hole day and probably spiral into a panic attack. At least here, with a task and Johnny yapping in your ear, you don’t have to think about the fact that you made out with your boss too much.

Fuck. You really did that. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

You woke up in a cold sweat, fingers brushing over your lips as you tried to decipher if it was real or dreamed. If you really kissed John, if he really held a hand on your lower back as he walked you home, if he really gave you a second, light peck before saying goodnight. The itch of his beard lingers, as well as the warmth where his hands cupped your face. It felt so good. So fucking good.

Then the context settles in. The fact that you kissed your boss makes you want to throw up - not for any dislike of it, just the fact that your job is now in limbo. Hanging in the balance until you can talk to him on Wednesday. At least you can take the next couple days to collect your thoughts - come up with a good apology that will hopefully let you keep your job and some semblance of dignity. Somehow make sense of the fact that you’ve kissed John and Kyle and surely when they find out they’ll think you’re a floosy. Loose and easy and pathetic and gross. You couldn’t quite meet your own eye in the mirror as you tried to get ready for the day.

The current, formerly “Future You” is not very happy with the now Past You. Frankly, you’d like to deck her for leaving you in this state of a permanent heart attack.

“Och, I’m about tae melt.” Johnny mutters, appearing from his room and stretching. His shirt rides up, exposing a thick happy trail that does not help you in your current spiral.

You just hum, gluing your eyes to the physical spreadsheet in front of you as you go through the sales from the convention. Numbers will clear your head. Yeah, nothing less sexy or more distracting than trying to do math with pen, paper and a TI-84 calculator.

“We should go get some ice cream.” Johnny leans over behind you, causing you to jump. Large hands settle on your shoulders as he rests his chin on the top of your head. At least Johnny is always touchy, you don’t have to read into it. You don’t think you could handle reading into it right now.

“Uh, yeah, okay.” You murmur, letting him lead you out of the office and flipping the out for lunch sign. You’ve been so lost in your head the entire day that you can’t fully pull yourself out of it - the same spiral of fears and self-degradation swirling around in your mind. A Cat 5 tornado of your own making. So stupid.

Johnny intertwines your fingers as you make your way down the street. Your hands swing lightly as you walk. Even with the heat, it doesn’t feel like too much. You’re not sure what it is - of you’re just comfortable or if Johnny just has something about him that makes touch feel perfectly natural - but it’s never overwhelming. Even when he’s hanging off you like a leech, it’s just Johnny. He doesn’t make you talk, doesn’t pry into why you’re so spaced out. He probably just thinks you’re tired. You are tired. So tired.

You don’t realize Johnny is saying something until he gently elbows your side. “Huh?”

“What d’ye want?” Johnny asks with a concerned furrow in his brow.

“Oh, uh, I can get my own-“

”My treat.” He shakes his head, batting away the hand pulling your wallet out of your back pocket. You have no choice but to give in to him - there isn’t any point in arguing with Johnny.

“Thanks for suggesting this.” You murmur, as you sit at one of the wooden, outdoor tables in front of the shop a couple blocks down from the tattoo parlor. The tables are covered in the shade of trees and an awning, luckily, keeping the sun from beating down on you. It doesn’t stop your ice cream from melting nearly faster than you can eat it, but you don’t have the heart to complain after Johnny took you out and bought it for you.

“Aye. Seemed like ye needed some cheerin’ up. Never seen ye so sullen.” Johnny comments, casually stuffing a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth. His eyes are sympathetic, though.

“Oh.” You thought you’d been doing alright at hiding it - came into the shop with a jokes and everything this morning. Sometimes it’s easy to forget how much Johnny actually notices between all his volume and energy.

“Gonnae tell me about it?”

“No.”

“Might help.”

You shake your head. “I- I’m- I can’t.”

“Okay.” He smiles gently, giving you a once over. His eyes are so sharp. The others do it too - take your body language in piece by piece. It doesn’t burn like when Johnny does it, though. His gaze is consuming, even when soft.

He seems to let you off the hook, though. It’s impossible to know how much he does or doesn’t know - how much any of them know. It puts you on edge, the inability to ask. After all, to ask is to admit. If you admit to it, you might lose it all. Fuck why did you kiss John? Kyle you can explain away - just a fun little bet. You’re close in age, he’s pretty, you’re together a lot, you get along. Nothing to it - even if it feels like there was. Even if it feels like every time you’re near him you’re going to melt and the air gets too thick and all you want is to pull him to the back room one more time.

John… John you can’t justify like that. He’s your boss. He’s over a decade older than you. Easily. He’s been so good to you but that’s not an excuse - it’s not right. You’re jeopardizing his place in his community. You’re jeopardizing your job. The best job you’ve ever had. The best friends you’ve ever had.

You can feel Johnny glancing at you as you walk, your eyes square on the ground and fists clenched anxiously. The heat outside only makes your head spin faster. Your cheeks feel feverishly hot. The ice cream almost curdles in your gut. Everything is too loud, too hot, too heavy.

You glance up at the clock. The day’s almost over - there probably won’t be more than one or two people that file in at most. You’ve finished with your work, currently just cross hatching on a sticky note in an attempt to calm your frayed nerves. It hasn’t worked. You need a distraction. A real, proper distraction.

“Johnny.” You snap, standing in the door way to his workroom.

“Hm?” He looks up, thick brows raised.

“I want a piercing.”

He cocks his head, taking you in from head to toe. “Aye?”

“If you have time.”

“I’ve always got time fer ye.” He grins.

You almost roll your eyes, but you’re too raw at the edges to really care about his usual flirting. There’s too much weighing on your mind - too much real anxiety knotting itself around your synapses and crushing them in it’s hold. The pain will help. It’ll ground you - sharpen your senses. You can focus on taking care of it for the next couple days between sleeping the days away until Wednesday. Until you can get this shit over with.

The only answer is to quit, right?

That’s your only option.

“What d’ye want?” Johnny asks.

You shrug. “What’d you think?”

He taps his chin, eyes slowly making their way over your body. You wonder if he can see how tense you are - body so locked up your joints ache and your jaw throbs. It’s a wonder your teeth are still there with how much you’ve been grinding them.

“How about a navel?”

“Okay.” You agree too quickly, flopping back on the pairing table. You focus in on a water mark on the ceiling above while Johnny digs through his tool cabinet, laying everything neatly on a small rolling tray.

Johnny stops above you. You don’t even turn your head to look, fists clenching and unclenching.

You’ll have to quit.

That’s your only choice. No reference calls, no contact. Will Simon hate you? Will they all? Will they talk about why you up and left? Will they show up at your apartment to demand an answer? No. You don’t mean that much - only a blip on the timeline of their shop. The corners of your eyes burn.

Johnny’s fingers skate over your soft middle, barely touching as he passes over the button of your jeans. He pauses, glancing down at you. “Bonnie?”

“Yeah?” You reply a little too harshly.

Johnny leans over you, hands on either side of your head, blue eyes burning through your skull. He blocks out the light above. “Yer doin’ this because ye want to, yeah? Not to punish yerself?”

You shrink into the table, hackles raising. It really is so easy to forget that Johnny is an observant bastard. Loud, brash, but he still sees everything. Like how he learned your coffee order by heart without you ever even saying it to him or having it written on the cup. He absorbs things, files it away, keeps it close to his chest and hides it behind his blunt, brash daily manners. You’ll miss him.

“I- yeah, I’m fine.” You wince internally at the shake in your voice.

“Y’know, we all love ye.” Johnny murmurs.

You huff, eyes darting anywhere to get away from his. Laying on the table suddenly feels slightly trapping. You can’t get your gaze fully away from where he stands over you - so close as his thick arms cage you in. “Guess so.”

“An’ there’s nothin’ tae feel guilty or bad about.”

Your eyes snap to his face, wide and worried. Does he know? Was he told? Do you ask? If you ask, you’ll be admitting to it. If you ask, then he will know for sure. If you ask, you might ruin it all. “I don’t-“

“Ye do.” He cuts you off. “An’ ye have permission, even if ye dinnae need it. It’s okay. Ye havennae done anythin’ wrong.”

You stare, mouth opening and closing lamely. Johnny. Straight forward, loud mouth, unsubtle Johnny. Fuck, you love him for it. Doesn’t dance around what he means. Doesn’t avoid what needs to be said - from his end, at least.

“Did- did you talk to-?” You stutter, struggling between needing to know and fear to admit the truth so blatantly. Even if he obviously knows something.

“Not really. Not my business.” Johnny shrugs casually.

Not his business. So they persue separately, you think. That makes sense. Probably. It’s probably wrong to make assumptions about the dynamic, about the implication that they have some sort of free for all. Then again, you don’t really know anything about their interpersonal workings much. They live together, they’re touchy. The dynamic is a mystery to you - only adding to the piles of confusion.

“Yer thinkin’ tae hard about it.” He pokes the furrow between your brows.

Oh. Is that it? You’re overthinking? No, adults talk about these things. You don’t understand the interpersonal workings here at all. Are they together? Do they just do this? Pull girls in and push them around until they get tired? That feels too cruel for them. They’ve taken such good care of you…

“I still… want to talk.” You murmur, cheeks warm.

His face softens, a light smile tugging at his lips. “An’ ye will. Kyle’s been damn near loosin’ it with ye avoiding him.”

“I’m not avoiding him!” You snap far too defensively.

“Sure ye aren’t.” Johnny shrugs, as if to tell you he knows that’s bull. Not his business, though, he said. “Just… donnae be so scared of us, aye? We’ve got yer back.”

Your shoulders drop, sore from being tensed for the entire day. “Okay.”

“Still want tae get peirced?”

You nod, chest far less tight. As though you finally let go of a breath you had been holding the entire day. “Sure, why not.”

Your shoulders slump as Johnny makes his way through the usual song and dance - showing you the freshly cleaned tools and marking the spot for the needle. Somehow the world seems… quieter. As if all the chatter in your mind had been just as deafening to your physical ears. It’s tiring. That same sting behind your eyes that you get after a long night out. Your defenses are down, and your body is finally at rest.

“Ow!” You gasp, lifting your head to meet Johnny’s impish grin with a glare. “A little warning next time!”

“Tha’s what happens when ye donnae listen.” He teases, slipping the jewelry through. “She’s cute.”

You snort. “She better be. Y’know I should tell John on you for improper conduct.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Aye, ye an’ Price know plenty about improper conduct.”

There’s no malice in the comment, or in the grin he settles on you. For once, you don’t freeze up. Don’t send yourself into a panic spiral over what he knows or thinks or feels. Johnny made himself clear. Instead you land a light smack against his arm and huff in embarrassment.

“Stand f’me.” Johnny murmurs after cleaning the piercing, a heat in his eyes that you can’t quite gauge the source of.

You do as you’re told, slipping off the table. You have to hook a finger into the waistband of your jeans to keep them up, cheeks hot as you realize how much is actually exposed with the fully undone fly. You glance up at a far too pleased Johnny. Didn’t even say a word, the mischievous bastard.

He drops to his knees in front of you. Your brows shoot damn near into the sky. Johnny mumbles something about making sure the piercing is sitting right. You roll with it, knowing he’s probably just saying whatever to get you to keep your pants undone a little longer. Your breath quickens as a large, warm hand flattens itself over your soft belly, unabashedly groping. Not that you mind, really, even if it does make your face so hot it might melt.

Your heart almost breaks out of your rib cage when he places a small kiss next to the piercing. His hand lowers, resting beside yours on the waistband of your jeans.

“May I?” Johnny murmurs, big blue eyes blinking up at you.

You have permission.

You don’t need permission.

You have it, though.

“Yeah.” You gasp, shivering at the cold air on your skin as Johnny pulls your pants halfway down your thighs.

“Pretty, pretty lass.” He murmurs, nipping at the softness of your belly and down to your thigh. “Look at ye.”

“Flatterer.” You scoff, attempting to let the tension melt off your shoulders with the usual snide remarks you slide each others way.

“M’just honest…” Johnny mumbles absently, fingers catching in the hems of your underwear. “Ye always walkin’ around in somethin’ this skintie?”

For a moment, your brows knit in confusion. That is until he pulls back and snaps the string of your thong against your hip. Your face somehow gets even hotter and you grumble out a poor excuse of, “S’laundry day…”

Your hips twitch as he traces between your lips through the cloth. So uncharacteristically slow and methodical for Johnny as he feels you, like he’s trying to memorize it. A shamefully harsh jolt runs up your spine as he presses just slightly into your clit.

“Sensitive little thing.” Johnny grins up at you. You swear the devil has a less delinquent grin.

“It’s been a while.” You shrug, aiming once again for casual and missing by a mile.

His grin only grows, eyes bright and hungry. “Let’s get these off.”

You shimmy your hips a bit to help him get both your underwear and jeans completely down. A wave of shyness overtakes you as it settles in that you’re utterly exposed to Johnny, your friend and coworker, in the middle of your workplace just as the sun has begun to edge down close to the horizon. It’s almost too much, and you almost yank your pants back on with a stammered, fake excuse, but Johnny soothes his hands up your thighs, gaze locked onto your pussy like it’s the only thing that exists and yeah… you want that.

You have permission.

“There she is.” He cups you gently, grinding the heel of his hand against your clit just hard enough to make you gasp.

Before you can say or do anything his hand retracts and Johnny settles you with the most serious look you’ve ever seen from him. It looks wrong, almost, on that face that’s supposed to have a permanent ear to ear grin.

“If ye want tae stop, I need ye tae tell me now.”

“No.” The word leaves you before you can even register the thought - desperate and breathy.

It earns a low chuckle. The only warning you get before Johnny licks a long stripe up between your lips, letting his tongue rest on your clit for just a moment before repeating the motion as though he’s not just eating you out but truly trying to truly get a taste for you. To memorize you as he drinks you in.

“Should let me give you a Christina…” He murmurs, pulling back to look at you.

“Ah, wha-“

“Look so pretty on this fat little cunt.” Johnny gives you a light smack for good measure, grinning at the visible jolt that travels up your spine before diving back in. He hooks a leg over his shoulder, leaving you balancing on your tip toes with your hands flat on the table behind you. It’s precarious and with absolutely no room to escape the attention he’s lavishing on you. It’s almost desperate, the way he moves. The way he devours. A man utterly starved.

“Fuck-“ you gasp as his tongue piercing catches your clit. Rough hands knead at the softness of your thighs and hips, urging you to press into him, to take as much as he’s giving.

“Tha’s it, ride m’face…” Your fingers lock into his mohawk and Johnny’s slurred words become the most pornographic moan you think you’ve ever heard. He practically goes limp - body relaxed and pliant while you grind down onto his tongue.

You tilt your head forward, risking looking down only to meet those big blue eyes staring up at you with all the intensity of the sun. A shaky moan passes your lips and his eyes flutter.

“J-Johnny-” The whine of his name only spurs him on - has him pressing his tongue so deep inside you and drinking you in full.

If he has any complaints about the way your heel digs between his shoulder blades as you unconsciously pull him closer, he doesn’t make it known. His nails rake over your ass, biting and stinging in contrast to everything else. It’s so much. Heat continues to pool at the base of your spine - babbling words, please and moans spill messily from your lips.

Your climax catches you off guard as Johnny sucks harshly at your clit; lighting your body aflame with only his mouth. Every muscle inside you tenses and the sounds you let out can only be described as strangled whines.

You have to yank a little at Johnny’s hair to get him to stop when the overstimulation reaches just the wrong side of too much; he’s well and truly lost in the moment. It fuels your ego to dangerous heights - the idea that this gorgeous man became that intoxicated just from your pussy.

There isn’t even time to say anything before Johnny is standing and connecting his lips with yours. You taste yourself on his tongue, his lips - somehow this is the first time you’ve found that pleasant. With heavy breaths you watch him wipe around his mouth his his palm, only to exaggeratedly lick and clean what’s left off his hand. Fucking sinful.

“Nasty man.” You sigh, too blissed out to be truly critical. Johnny winks and you roll your eyes.

“S’about quittin’ time.” He says, tilting his head to look up at you through thick lashes. “Should get ye home.”

You frown, still trying to come back to earth as you glance down. “Don’t- do you want-?”

He looks you over, your mouth goes dry as his hand drops from your hip to adjust himself. The implications of the outline through his thick denim has your head reeling and your breath quickening. Johnny chuckles at you, surely seeing it written plain across your face. You might as well start drooling and panting like a dog.

He buries his nose into the crook of your neck to nip at your skin. “Another time. Want tae savor ye.”

You shiver, unable to stop the smile that quirks up the corners of your lips. You have permission. You don’t need it, but you have it.

A/N: Sorry if this is a little rough, I'm getting back into the swing of things. It's finally time for things to get fun, tho ;)

Also please give some love to this AMAZING fanart from @eurydicescurse

[lymtw]

"Can I try it?"

Toji's voice snaps you out of the heavy focus you have on your reflection as you apply your lip gloss. You twist the cap back on the plastic tube that presents its Rosé colored contents and turn to look at him. "Hm? You want some?" You ask, extending it towards him.

He shakes his head and pushes it back towards you, stepping closer. "Looks better on you, doll. This another flavored one?" He asks, eyeing the sparkling prominence of your lips. You nod, a giddy smile on your face, which only serves to attract his attention to the feature more.

"It's apple flavored," you chirp.

"Ah. You look really pretty, mama," he says, loving the way your face glows with his compliment. You smile before turning back to look in the mirror. "Hold it." His hand goes to your arm. "Let me look at you a little longer."

"Give me a second. I feel like it's messed up," you say, going into one of your vanity's drawers, where you keep your makeup wipes.

Toji tugs on the back of your shirt, trying to grab your attention. "Put away the wipes and come here. If there's something there, i'll get it."

You sigh, dramatically, closing the drawer before simply turning to look at him, annoyance riddled on your face, because you can feel the excess lip gloss on your skin.

His eyes trail along the area of your mouth, and a grin surfaces on his face when he spots the small, glossy splotch, just below your lips.

"You look silly," he teases, entirely fascinated by the pretty, barely messy sight.

"Thanks," you respond, sarcastically, to which he hums, a wordless, yet, equally sarcastic 'you're welcome'. "You didn't mention it when you first looked at me. A little rude, don't you think?"

His hand reaches for your waist and he pulls you closer to him. Once you're right in front of him, he wraps his arm around your lower back and keeps you pressed flush against him, so he can look down and stare on at your lips.

"Honestly, I didn't even notice until you mentioned it."

You know better than to swoon over the sound of his voice and that longing gaze he has set on you.

"You always say that. It's like you want me to walk around looking like a mess." You crane your neck to look at your vanity, mentally set on wiping the gloss off yourself, because Toji is just staring at the smear.

He's trying not to laugh at how grumpy you are about this. "Ma-" he pauses, a chuckle escaping him. "Just-" He blocks your view of anything other than him. If you turn your head, he follows. "Doll, let me get it for you."

You roll your eyes and begrudgingly look at him, again. "If you're gonna do it, do it, already. This takes a maximum of three seconds, normally."

"Alright, alright. Stop turning away from me," he says, scarred lips still quirked up with amusement. You stand still for him, watching as he brings a hand up to cup your jaw. The gentleness of his touch and the intimate proximity has your heart racing. That and he's taking forever, just staring at your lips. It's a simple swipe of his thumb, what could possibly be taking him so long?

He leans in and juts out his tongue, dragging the tip of it beneath your bottom lip to get the sweet, artificial apple flavor off.

"Ew, Toji!" You snicker, turning away with a laugh. Your hand flies to his chest, creating almost nonexistent distance between you and him.

"What are you saying 'ew' for?" He playfully chides, clicking his tongue. "Face me. Stop moving." You don't even have a chance to turn your head, before he's doing it for you, thick fingers pressing into your jaw to get you to look at him. "You didn't even let me get all of it. Made me smudge it even more, instead."

He's lying. Not about not getting all of it, but about the smudging part. There's barely any lip gloss outside of your lips, anymore. It's the smallest speck, but he'll make it seem like it's messier, just so that he can keep you in front of him for longer, while getting to taste the sweetness of your lips.

"Okay, then get it off. Not with your tongue again. I'll laugh, and this will take much longer than it already is."

"Fine." He smirks, watching the twitch in the corners of your lips as you wait in anticipation for his next move. He leans in, again, and you let out a huff and roll your eyes expecting his tongue, only to be surprised by his lips pressing against the small streak of that sweet, misplaced product on your skin. His quick "cleansing" kisses move up to the corner of your lips and then go higher, before moving along your cupid's bow. Once he's in the middle, he starts going back down, lower and lower until he ends up centering his lips with yours, giving you a proper kiss. It doesn't end with just one kiss. He's picking up every bit of the tacky product on your lips, now, ignoring the fact that he was only supposed to get the excess product. His hands go to your waist, keeping you firmly against him as he carries on with the kisses. He swipes his tongue over your lips, completely clearing them of any sweetness, the gesture causing you to laugh between kisses.

When the supposed tidying came to an end, your lips were wet and shiny, but without a trace of the sweet product that was smothered on them before. Toji watches your flustered expression, mischief lingering in his gaze at your speechlessness.

"It really does taste like apples," he says, earning a deadpan expression from you.

"You overdid it. It's all gone, now." It's hard to stay serious when you see him licking the remnants off his lips. You can see the gears turning in his head, like he's preparing to diffuse your faux irritation.

"No, it's not. You still have some," he says, looking behind you at the practically full tube of lipgloss.

"I can't feel or taste it on my lips, anymore, Toji. What do you mean I still have some?" You say, clearly not thinking the same thing as him.

He takes your hand and drags you over to your vanity. "Put some more on," he says, picking the bright colored tube up and putting it directly in your hand. "Wanna do it, again."

"Toji-" you start, unable to hold in your laugh when you see the random specks of glitter that remain stuck to his lips.

He grins at your the sound of your laughter, before going on to defend himself. "I asked if I could try it, and you offered, so..." He prolongs the word for a couple seconds, unable to find the ending to his sentence.

"So, what?" You prompt, your smile lingering.

"So, I got it indirectly." He smirks. Out of impatience, he takes the tube out of your hand and twists the cap off, before offering it to you, again. "Now, put some more on."

"You're just gonna wipe it off," you argue, shaking your head.

"Only if you mess it up. I can do it for you, if you want. I'm very precise."

He's so eager to do this, that you can't help but sigh and give in. "Fine. You don't have to use so much of it, though. You're precise, but you've also got a heavy hand."

"Yeah, I do," he says, a smug grin on his face. You playfully smack his chest, feeling somewhat disappointed in yourself when your laugh slips out at the dirty innuendo.

You stand still, allowing Toji to take your chin between his fingers with one hand, while the other squeezes the tube and brings the lipgloss applicator closer. It makes contact with your lips and he starts spreading it around, evenly. His attention flits between your lips and your gaze, which isn't on him, because having him examine you so closely will lure your giggles out if you focus too hard on it. Toji can see color blooming on your cheeks and feel your skin heating beneath his fingers, so he decides to push it even more.

"This color looks really good on you, doll. One of my favorites. So pretty," he mumbles, as he continues to layer your lips with even more sweetness, definitely more than the necessary amount. You can feel the thickness being dragged back and forth, repeatedly. "You know you can kiss me whenever you want, but if you're wearing this, i'll lean in first, every time. I'll even chase you if I have to." His voice is smooth, like he's hypnotized by how stunning you look while wearing something so simple to apply.

You laugh, unable to contain it any longer, then suddenly, you feel the gloss drag out of your lip line, again.

"Aw, damn. You made me mess up." He picks the cap up off the vanity and covers your lipgloss. You mentally facepalm, and your eyes lid when you look at Toji, who doesn't look the least bit upset about you ruining his masterpiece. "Don't worry, baby. I can clean it up for you."

[caffeinatedvigilantewriter]

So Danny and Ellie are in a predicament.

Ellie has been freshly deaged to a 18 month year old. Sam, Tucker and Jazz are dead and gone.

Danny who is 23 ish is running from the GIW and Fentons ends up in Gotham when he gets caught

Last minute he shoves Ellie into an alley and leaves a note if to someone finds her

And he’s gone, taken.

Damian is now 23 and Batman. Bruce and Alfred have passed away (Bruce’s heart couldn’t take years of being Batman and Alfred got too old)

Everyone else… to put it lightly… aren’t on speaking terms.

Dick is in Bludhaven, Cass is in Kong, Jason is with his outlaws, Tim alternates between the Titans and WE (but doesn’t talk to Damian outside of the company). Duke and Steph are in collage.

Damian is alone.

Back to Ellie. Damian is on patrol and finds a crying baby in an alley at 1 am.

At first, he’s angry. What kind of parent leaves their child like that?

Then he finds the note

He takes Ellie in and raises her alone in the manor while being Batman and trying to find her dad.

Leslie- who’s now retired- helps in babysitting Ellie when he’s busy with being Batman or WE but hes always there to tuck her in every night.

Eventually, Duke- tired of the family’s pride and stubbornness ruining their family- comes home for Christmas break (around 6 months after Damian found Ellie)

He arrives while Batman is on patrol, hoping to surprise him and instead has his shit rocked by a 2 year old with Lazarus green eyes the moment he walked in the Batcave.

Damian arrives and explains everything.

Duke switches to online collage and resumes living in the manor.

Signal is back on the streets and Ellie gets an uncle.

Tim is the next person who catches on.

He realizes Batman’s patrol routes are shorter (Damian didn’t want to leave Ellie alone at night) and Batman sometimes abandons patrol in the middle to leave (Ellie was crying and Leslie couldn’t calm her down)

And so Tim pays him a visit and he sees Damian napping with a two year old on the couch and is like :0

So, instead of doing the Logical thing and waking him up he leaves and calls the rest of the family.

While Duke laughs in his face, the others plan to all appear next week at the manor and interrogate Damian as to why he adopted a kid.

Coincidentally, that night The GIW have cracked down as to where the ghost baby is and they break into Wayne Manor while Damian is on patrol.

He doesn’t get back in time.

Everyone else arrives a week later to find Damian in the batcave, looking like he was close to a passing out from exhaustion.

Duke returns from patrol and explains the situation and everyone bands together to help Damian find his daughter

They didn’t find her, but they find Danny.

After busting him out and telling Danny that Damian was the one who took care of Ellie for months

He eventually heals his wounds in the safety of Wayne Manor.

However, because Damian was the one to raise Ellie for months and the other not only ignored his calls but didn’t even stop by to check up on him he doesn’t trust the others as much.

So Damian ends up caring for him.

And over the course of the three months it took for them to locate Ellie, they begin to fall in love.

Cue the rescue mission the moment they find Ellie.

Damian and Danny eventually get together and GIW gets dismantled. Everything is fine and dandy…right?

[luveline]

Can you write where the reader walks into James room and he's crying and its the first time shes seen him cry so she comforts him pls xx

thank you for your request! fem, 1.2k

James’ house is a sanctuary to everyone he’s ever met. There are scratches on the wall by the door where Sirius has thrown it open, long deep welts of ruin under a drunken hand, two best friends laughing to the bedroom where they share a bed. You’re used to Sirius by now, an extension of James you love and make room for, but waking up to the heir of the most noble family in London sleeping off a hangover with his face buried in your boyfriend's shoulder still surprises you. His snores never change. 

Then there’s Remus, the sweetheart, tracking dirt into the living room because he so often forgets he’s wearing shoes, distracted by a book or a thought he shares in half smiles knowing James will listen. 

You’re everywhere. In photos like the rest of them, in your coat on the hook, your clean washing on the stairs, your shoes in the bedroom cupboard. There’s a red smudge of your lipstick on the wall at the top of the stairs where James wiped your bottom lip and then used the wall to hang over you, kissing. He keeps meaning to paint over it, you know. He says the same thing every time you bring it up, a laughing, “I’ll get to it, you thing!” 

You’re used to smiles and sounds here. You aren’t acquainted with this. Sniffles from the bedroom, long, stringing gulps of air and the answering sob. It makes your chest flip. James hasn’t cried in front of you in a year of dating and two years of knowing him. James doesn’t even get pissed off unless it’s for somebody else. Something awful must’ve happened. You rush to find out what. 

In the bedroom, James is just sitting there falling apart. Just, sat on the bed, his head in his hands and his shoulders shaking like an awful jagged up and down, like he’s hurting; the shock of it is in every inch of movement. James is beautiful in everything, skin and hands and dark, dark hair, but he’s hurting now as he drags fingers wet with tears through frizzing curls. He must have heard you coming up but he can’t stop, lifting his chin, an apology twisted in his mouth that he doesn’t say aloud. 

“Lovely, what happened?” you ask, sure you’re gonna fall through the floor. “What happened? What–”

You aren’t giving him time to answer. You need to know. 

“No, it’s alright–”

“It’s not alright,” you say, standing in front of him with stiff arms. “What happened, James?” 

“It’s okay.” He cries a little, sniffs, looking up at you with swimming eyes. “It’s alright, I’m just– it’s just– well, it’s just everything, I suppose, but it’s…” He looks down, his mouth twisting again in an apology you don’t want to take. He shakes himself. 

“James, what’s everything?” 

“Silly stuff.” James takes your hand. Telling, that a boy who’s spent his entire life looking after the people he loves would attempt to comfort you with tears still hot on his cheeks. 

You look down at his long fingers. 

James plays piano. He learned your favourite song for you before he’d ever asked you out, and when he’d played it for you, he’d played so beautifully you felt sick for days, felt sick every time you thought of him, but in the moment he’d laughed at your teary eyes and pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head. Lovely girl, he’d said, laughing, I won’t play it again if you’re gonna cry like that.

You figure he must want comfort as he gives it, wrapping your arms around him to steer him toward a soft kiss, his hair like strands of satin under your lips. “Nothing that upsets you like this could ever be silly.” 

He pushes you away. Not without love, but pushing away regardless. He stands in the space you leave and wipes his cheeks with the backs of his hands. It’s nearly like he’s dancing. Just the way his arms move. But then he drops them and turns away from you, your heart plummeting to your stomach. 

“James.” 

“It’s not like that. I was hoping I’d be done before you got home. Should we go out for dinner or something?” 

“James–”

“What?” he asks, smiling, at odds with his sad eyes. “Love, it’s really fine, I’m fine.” Love. You let out a long breath, chest a cold ache slowly warmed by his gaze. There’s care for you in every eyelash, but it still shocks you when he hugs you. “It’s okay. Sorry I scared you.” 

James. “Fucking hell, Jamie, I’m not scared, I want you to tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it for you.”

He chokes on breath. “I’m fine,” he says. He doesn’t believe it himself, a crack running straight through his words. “Sorry,” he says, sickly, kissing the top of your head as you’d kissed his. 

Clearly he’s not going to let you be the one domineering the situation, but that’s okay. He can kiss your head and hold you on the edge of too tight. You slip a hand under the edge of his T-shirt to stroke his back, until your hand is numb to it, and he’s sagging against you heavily. 

“You’re really not fine, I can see that much.” 

He’s quiet, but you can tell there’s something he wants to say. 

“But that’s okay,” you say, hand clasping his back . You pat a steady rhythm there as he sighs. “It really is. I don’t know why you think you have to be finished crying before I get home, but that’s not true. You can cry. You can cry buckets. Please don’t pretend you’re not upset because of me, I’d feel so bad.”

Something hot and wet touches your forehead. “M’sorry.” 

“Nothing to be sorry for.” You pull back to pat his cheek. 

James stares at you. Tears well in usually warm eyes and get caught in the wet hedge of his lashes. You try to wipe them away before they can fall —you don’t wanna see your sweetheart crying. 

“Don’t frown,” he says softly. 

“I’m trying not to. Here, let me,” —you wipe his cheeks with your sleeve, voice a muttering thing as his skin pinks beneath your touch— “just get that there for you. Your eyes are red, Jamie, I hope you haven’t been upset for too long.” 

“No, uh. No, not too long.” 

“Can you please tell me what’s wrong? I’d like to know.” 

James’ face presses to your neck in seconds. He pauses, and then he sobs. That’s more like it. You stand there in the bedroom until your legs are stiff, and then you only move to lay him down in bed to be your little spoon. “It's not fine,” you say, your arm around him, the other playing in the swirl of his parting, “but it will be. You’re really too handsome for all these tears.”

“You think I’m handsome?”

He sounds sweet when he’s trying to make you laugh. You reach over him to kiss his hot cheek.  

[lilacgaby]

title: family matters

pairing(s): husband!toji x reader, son!megumi x reader

summary: megumi wakes up with a nightmare, toji doesn't want to move, so he solves his own problem.

your face was smushed up against toji's chest as you slept deeply. your arm slung around his waist and your legs tangled in his as you breathed him in.

he was awake though, playing with your hair as he let the sounds of your muffled sighs against his chest and the white noise of the fan slowly drift him to sleep...

until the sound of the door creaking made him jump slightly, quickly moving to soothe you in case he startled you.

megumi shuffled in, rubbing his eyes as he walked to the corner of the bed. "dad?"

toji sighed as he layed his head over to look at him, you usually handled this kind of stuff since he felt awkward. "what is it kid?"

"i'm scared." megumi admitted, his voice sounding choked like he'd already been crying.

"y' all right. we're right here 'gumi, so there's nothing to worry about." toji comforted, having his full attention on megumi. he reached his hand out to hold his shoulder and shook it.

"nothing will happen to you or your mom as long as im here. got it?"

megumi sniffled and shook his head in a nod. "'kay.. but can you come tuck me in?" he asked, grabbing toji's arm in a pulling motion.

"no way kid. your mom is sleeping right on top of me, and 'm not moving 'til she wakes."

"dadd." he whined, tugging his arm with all his might to try and get him to move. "you have to, it's what mom does!"

he knew it well, how you'd immediately get out of bed any night he came to lay in his and soothe him to sleep, most nights he'd wake up alone and find you holding megumi as you slept in his bed.

"well i'm not your mother. you're a big kid already, you can do it yourself."

"but i want you to do ittt." he started to shake his arm, which was jostling you in return.

"hey stop it kid, ya wanna wake your mom up?"

"nooo. hurry up!" he said, finally letting go and stomping his feet.

"i'm not moving kid, so tough luck."

megumi pouted and decided to..

flip him over. as he started shoving toji over with all his might, you obviously fell under him first. with toji's weight completely on you, you woke up disoriented and confused.

megumi, now with a bunch of room for himself, jumped in and held your arm to his chest, smiling victoriously.

"what-- what's going on?"

"this brat is so stubborn, he's just like you. go back to sleep."

"huh..?" you were being lifted up by toji and so was megumi. he settled you in the middle with him and megumi at your sides.

"good night. don't say i don't love you brat."

you fell asleep confused but comfortable, and megumi only stuck his tongue out at toji before going back to sleep with you.

toji was now playing with your hair while watching over the two of you, the sight of your chests rising and falling with every breath you took comforting him.

he hung his arm around you, holding your hand. laying his head on yours, he placed a hand on megumi's hair, ruffling it slightly.

his heart felt warm as he fell asleep, dreaming of you. oh and his son was there too.

he woke up to the sounds of rustling as megumi woke up, early as possible. he started to tap on your shoulder until toji moved his hand away from you groggily.

"what?"

"i'm hungry."

"for crying out loud kid, no!"

...

he got up to make pancakes for you three, extra whipped cream for megumi as he handed them out.

megumi was sat in your lap happily munching away as you paired yours with a cup of coffee, still half asleep.

toji ruffled megumi's hair, making him let out a small "hey!" as he moved over to kiss you, making megumi scrunch up his face.

toji moved to sit beside you at the counter, his hand supporting his head as he looked over at you two.

"you're a headache y'know that?"

"don't be mean to mom." megumi said, his mouth full.

"i wasn't talking about her, kid!

[pedroscurls]

Hugh x younger gf (always age appropriate, 30s-55).

Hugh and reader hosting a bbq with friends and reader in super horny as she sees Hugh's sweat glow under the light of the fire

sneak away with me

summary: you sneak away with hugh during a party. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader word count: 2.2k warnings: smut (unprotected p in v sex, creampie, manhandling, dirty talk, oral - m receiving, doggy style, light spanking) a/n: ugh, i need this man bad. thank you to this anon for requesting this. i know i have more requests to get to, but i just needed some good hugh smut for my delulu mind (btw - this isn't proofread, so apologies for any typos!!!)

You can’t help but stare at Hugh. He’s talking with Shawn and Ryan at the grill, laughing with a drink in his hand and a spatula in the other. He’s wearing a white t-shirt, his arms flexing with each movement and you have to bite your lower lip at the sight of the fabric stretching around his muscles. 

The heat of the grill radiates off of him, a sheen of sweat trickling down the side of his neck as it disappears into the collar of his white t-shirt. He’s smiling and laughing – nose scrunching with each chuckle. Hugh seems so relaxed, so calm, but you… You can’t take your eyes off of him. You ended up tuning out the people you’re standing next to, eyes solely focused on Hugh. 

You and Hugh had decided to throw a casual barbeque with a handful of close friends, and especially after the success of Deadpool & Wolverine, you knew that Hugh needed this. To just relax and be around a group of people that keep him grounded. 

His eyes move towards you, flashing you a large smile as he brings his martini glass to his lips. Hugh’s eyes never leave you as he gazes at you from afar, from the rim of his glass. He knows that look you have on your face. He can see the way your eyes are ogling him, making it clearly obvious (to him) that you want him. Need him. 

Hugh excuses himself from the conversation and makes his way towards you, never once breaking the gaze. You want to walk towards him, want to just jump into his arms, but instead, you let him come to you. 

The people you were speaking with slowly walk away, giving you and Hugh some much needed personal time once he’s standing next to you. His hand rests on your lower back as he turns his head to give you a kiss at your temple, lingering for a moment to whisper. 

“You’re starin’, y’know that?” he says against your ear. 

“How can I not?” you respond, moving a hand to rest on his chest. “Do you see how good you look? And then to top it off, you’re standing in front of the grill all slick and sweaty and–”

Hugh’s low growl interrupts you mid-sentence. His lips are still near your ear as he subtly dips down to nibble at your earlobe. “This party is gonna go on for a few more hours and–”

“Take me upstairs,” you interrupt him. “They can mingle for a while. Ryan and Shawn can handle the grill.”

“You can’t wait for a few more hours?” Hugh asks, pulling back to look down at you. 

You’re gazing up at him, batting your eyelashes in his direction as you gnaw at your lower lip. “If you don’t take me upstairs, I’m gonna go up there myself and take care of it on my own,” you threaten.

Hugh’s gaze darkens as his hand dips lower to rest just above your backside. “Oh, baby, you and I both know you won’t be able to take care of it yourself.”

Your eyes narrow. “Well, you can stay down here and I’ll excuse myself from the party for a moment.” You turn on your heel, beginning to walk back inside the home you share with Hugh before he reaches for your wrist to pull you to him. You glance around, noticing that your guests aren’t even paying attention to you and Hugh. 

“Get on up there,” Hugh whispers, voice low and husky. “And when I get up there, you better be on your knees.” 

“Or what?” you ask, biting the inside of your cheek. 

“Oh, you’ll find out. Now, get on up there.” Hugh releases his grip on you and watches you walk back inside the house as his eyes drift down to your backside. He feels his manhood stir awake, beginning to press itself against the fabric of his jeans. He gives it a few more minutes before he walks over to Ryan and Shawn, asking them to watch the grill for a moment.

“Oh, we saw the way she was looking at you,” Ryan winks. “Go get her, tiger.”

Hugh rolls his eyes and walks back inside the house, ascending the stairs and skipping a step to get to the second floor quicker. He approaches the bedroom and opens the door, seeing you lying back on the mattress instead of on your knees like he asked you to. 

“What are you doing?” Hugh asks, shutting the door behind him as he reaches for his belt and begins undoing them. “You’re not on your knees and I thought I said–”

“Wanted to lie down,” you interrupt him, leaning up on your elbows as you watch undo the button of his pants and then unzip the zipper. 

“Get on your knees,” Hugh demands, walking towards you.

“Can you say please?” you tease, biting your lower lip. You know you’re playing a dangerous game, but you’re horny and you need him to split you in half. 

Hugh growls and shakes his head as he pushes his jeans and boxers down in one motion. His cock springs at attention, already leaking at the tip. 

“If anyone’s gonna be doing the begging, baby, it’s gonna be you.” Without waiting for you to respond, Hugh straddles your midsection, grabbing your hands and pinning them above your head. His cock brushes against your lips and you’re pinned to the bed, Hugh hovering above you. “Be a good girl for me and open up.”

You feel your walls clench, already wet from earlier. You can’t play this game any longer and part your lips for him. He holds your wrists against the bed with one hand, using his free hand to grasp himself at his base and directs the head of his cock past your lips. 

“Suck,” Hugh demands. He’s careful not to put any weight on you as his knees are at either side of your chest, cock slowly sliding into your warm and wet mouth. When he feels your lips wrap around him tightly, his eyes slowly begin to flutter. He pushes his hips forward, forcing you to take more of him as you stare up at him with an innocent look in your eyes. “There’s my good girl,” he coos, letting out a quiet groan as he feels your tongue swirl around his length. 

His hips slowly begin to move forward, releasing himself to grab a fistful of your hair. He groans, eyes falling shut as his head tilts back as he guides your head along his manhood. 

“Fuck,” he groans, his grip around your wrist tightening. You’ve always loved doing this for him, seeing him completely at your mercy, even though you’re the one pinned to the bed. You hollow your cheeks as you pull back from his length and then lower your head back, feeling him begin to hit the back of your throat. You let out a quiet gag, tears stinging your eyes as Hugh moans. 

He pulls away abruptly, looking down at you as his cock is slick with your saliva. He moves down your body, forcing himself between your legs as he releases your wrists. Hugh leans down and brushes his lips against yours, growling lowly. 

“I’m gonna fuck you now,” he smirks. “And then maybe you’ll be a good girl for the rest of the party.” 

You whimper, rubbing your legs together with anticipation. “And then you’ll fuck me again later?” 

“Oh, baby,” Hugh grins. “The night is only beginning.” 

Then, he climbs off the bed and grips your waist, turning you onto your stomach with ease. He then moves his hands to your hips, forcing you on all our fours as he lifts the ends of your dress to reveal your lower half, growling to himself at the lack of underwear. 

“You’re not wearing any underwear?” Hugh asks, gripping the base of his cock as he runs his head along the length of your sex. 

You moan, gripping the sheets as you try to push back against him, yearning for him to just slide into you. “N– No…”

“Ah, so you had this planned all along, hm?” Hugh says, pressing his tip to your entrance. “You’re lucky I love you,” he continues, hands gripping your hips as he slams into you without warning. He fills you to the brim, leaning over you as his lips hover against your ear. “Even though you are being bad.” 

“Y– You love it,” you say through quiet moans, trying to remain quiet even though everyone’s outside and away from earshot. 

“You’re right,” Hugh chuckles darkly. “I do like it when you’re bad. Gives me reason to punish you.” He pulls back, fingertips digging into the flesh at your hips as he wastes no time in thrusting into you repeatedly. The sound of skin slapping against one another echoes off the walls of the bedroom and you’re still forcing yourself to remain quiet, hands gripping the bed sheets. “Lemme hear you, baby,” Hugh encourages. 

His thrusts doesn’t let up. He fills you so perfectly, pulling out to his tip only to slam himself back into your warm depths. You know you’re going to be sore after this, but you don’t mind. It will only serve as a reminder of sneaking away with Hugh while hosting a barbeque with friends. 

“Oh god,” you moan aloud, eyes shut tight as you feel yourself begin to tremble. You know you’re close, know that you’re about to reach your high and Hugh knows it too. He then grabs your arms and crosses them behind you, gripping your wrists to hold them against your lower back as you move your cheek to rest on the mattress, backside high in the air for him. 

With his free hand, Hugh delivers a light slap to your ass. He groans to himself, the feeling of your walls tight around his length, milking him with each thrust brings him closer and closer to the edge. It excites him, knowing that he can fill you up with his seed. He likes knowing that you’ll end up squirming long afterwards, a clear sign of his spend pooling out of you. 

“Oh, fuck, baby,” Hugh moans, the sound of his skin slapping against yours mixed in with the sounds of your moans and the wet squelching noise coming from how wet you are. It’s almost filthy and it only drives him further. 

“H– Hugh,” you whimper, your walls beginning to clench around him as you feel your body tremble. “Oh fu–” Hugh releases your hands and grips your arms, pulling you upright to be flush against him. He moves an arm around your frame, gripping your breast over the fabric of your dress as his lips are near your ear. 

“God, baby,” Hugh growls against your lips. “Gripping me so tight, fuck,” Hugh’s hips begin to falter, his other hand reaching down to rub your clit. 

Your entire body is already so sensitive, still riding your climax and you try to claw at Hugh’s wrist, trying to push him away as the sensations become too much.

“Hugh–” you moan. “Baby, I can’t, oh god–”

“Gimme one more, love,” he says softly, breathless and panting against your ear. His grip around your breast tightens as he applies pressure to your clit, moving it in circles and at a pace to time with his thrusts. 

You reach behind you, lacing your fingers into his hair and gripping it tightly as your body shakes against him. You let out a loud moan as your walls tighten once more around his length and you feel him loosen his grip around you, moving his hands to your hips. His hips stutter and you feel his warmth shoot inside of you, filling you to the brim. 

He rolls his hips a few more times before he pulls out, watching his spend slowly begin to drip out of you and down your inner thigh. He growls at the sight and then watches as you move to lie on your abdomen, trying to catch your breath. 

Hugh walks to the bathroom to grab a warm and wet towel to clean you up. You shiver against his touch, looking over your shoulder at him with a lazy smile. 

“You better wear some underwear when we go back out there,” Hugh chuckles. “Or else this is gonna go everywhere.”

“Mmm, I like it,” you smile.

“I like it too, baby.” Hugh smiles, leaning down to peck your lips. “Love knowing that you’re filled of me.” 

You bite your lower lip and look up at him, slowly moving to lie on your back as you gaze into his eyes. “I love you, Hugh.”

“I love you too, baby.”

“Do we have to go back out there?” you tease with a quiet laugh.

“Just a few more hours and then it’ll just be me and you,” Hugh promises.

You nod and then stand up once he’s finished cleaning you up, walking to the closet to pull on a pair of panties underneath your dress. When you step out, you see Hugh pull up his pants and boxers, buttoning and zipping it back up as he loops the belt around himself. 

He looks over at you and smiles, walking towards the door and taking your hand with him. 

“Ryan’s definitely going to give you shit,” you laugh, descending the stairs with him and going back out to the backyard to join everyone else.

[onlyhyunjin]

𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒!

(♡) - my personal favorites (🔞) - CONTAINS NSFW CONTENT

NEW BEGINNINGS - @ikeuverse (flirting with your brother's brother-in-law wasn't in your plans after returning from studying abroad. it wasn't something you were going to stop either since heeseung was the epitome of beauty. but when there's another woman's name in the story. what happens? you don't want to be caught between a betrayal… or so you thought.) (♡)

MARRY ME - @ikeuverse (ever since you met lee heeseung, he told you that the two of you were going to get married. all the time, at every opportunity, he reinforced it until one day, drunk, you accepted. was he dreaming or did it really happen? it wouldn't be so bad to fall for his jokes for once.)

TIDES OF REGRET - @pprodsuga (in the year since heeseung first rejected your love confession, you've tried everything to get over him. a trip to europe makes you realize you miss your former best friend more than anything, and it makes heeseung realize he's got it all wrong.) (♡)(🔞)

HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER - @i2sunric (your daughter asks heeseung to tell the greatest love story of all and he takes the chance to narrate how he met you, the love of his life.) (♡)

JUNE BLOSSOMS - @soobnny (synopsis. as the month of may ends, you wonder what june holds for you and heeseung (especially with no more need to fake date.)

LATE SUMMER LOVIN' - @4am-enha (you desperately want to spend your last summer here in town with your friends, only to find out almost all of them are away on vacation. that is, all of them but heeseung. the one friend you’d never really been that close with.)

BITE ME - @drunkhazed (“I’m kind of confused still.” You admit, anxiously shuffling to sit without making eye-contact. Heeseung chuckles plopping down by your side, arm slinging back over your shoulder to keep you pressed against him.)(🔞)

COFFEE & CREAM - @ham-st4r (one chilly night after a long work shift, you’re unfortunately forced to walk home. Cause you left your bag at work, half way through your journey you stumble across a homeless man who you naturally offer money to, and he though he refuses. You give it to him anyway, and down the road, you’ll find that those two dollars changed not only his life but yours as well.) (🔞)

IT'S CUPID, STUPID - @mygnolia (To hell with Lee Heeseung, you couldn't find someone you hated more than the boy who's by your side no matter what. You figured that maybe the summer before university would be the best way to finally let go of him, and to leave the hate you have in your childhood- but no. What do you mean you have to spend ALL summer with him?)

FUCK BUDDIES - @dimepdf (y/n and heeseung and fwb after heeseung win in his football match y/n gives him the best reward)

TEETH - @gyuuberryy (you were not thrilled about the move in of your new neighbour. mostly because he was so strange and seemed to be hiding something dark. and partly because you couldn’t stop yourself from getting closer to him because of your unwanted attraction. you were determined to expose his dark secret and get rid of him once and for all. but, it was proving to be a difficult task because he was just so irresistible..and needy.)

PLAYER RANK: PLATINUM - @simpjaes (You’re not sure what’s worse, your sister’s boyfriend or your sister’s boyfriend’s friends. What you thought would be a great deal in living with her throughout college turns into a major game of cat and mouse, where you’re unsure if your moral compass is pointing in the right direction solely because you suspect someone is wearing a giant sex magnet to throw it off.) (🔞)

RUDE - @4wkjun (heeseung has never loved anyone as much as he loves y/n. y/n’s father has never hated someone as much as he hates heeseung. but it doesn’t matter, heeseung’s gonna marry y/n anyway.)

I OFFER YOU MY EVERYTHING - @heegyukeluv (You never cared about sex, until you did. You grew too afraid of it, scared of disappointing the other person or showing your inexperience. But then you met Heeseung, the hot basketball captain that stole your heart and became your biggest fantasy. ) (🔞)

VERBOTEN - @heesbaby (a bad stroke of luck saw lee heeseung, your dads coworker, moving into your small apartment until he found his feet again. emotionally unavailable and a workaholic, you were going to try your absolute hardest to make him loosen up. even if it meant breaking a few of the house rules he'd set out.) (🔞) (♡)

10 DAYS TO FALL IN LOVE - @luvyeni (you and heeseung used to be bestfriends as children — he even told you he'd marry you one day. but then you went to highschool and things changed , he dyed his hair and started hanging out with a new group group of friends. through all that his love never changed for you — has yours changed for him?)

RENT A BOYFRIEND - @jayujus (in which jeon y/n is desperate to find a boyfriend ASAP because she needs a date for her family's mixer. her best friend, ningning, introduces her to a website perfect for this situation!)

CHERRY CHAPSTICK - @angelwonie (ever since you met lee heeseung, he told you that the two of you were going to get married. all the time, at every opportunity, he reinforced it until one day, drunk, you accepted. was he dreaming or did it really happen? it wouldn't be so bad to fall for his jokes for once.)

[oddinary4bts]

To Give a Helping Hand | ch 3 (jjk)

☆summary: when you finally come over to his place, Jungkook realizes he'll need more of you.

☆pairing: idol!Jungkook x female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI)

☆genre: smut, idol!au

☆warnings: unedited, curses, alcohol, an NDA (brief mention), explicit content: grinding, fingering, oral sex (female receiving), edging, begging/praise kink, spitting, jerking off, unprotected sex (don't be stupid), creampie

☆word count: 3.7k

☆a/n: i was horny i guess lmao hope you enjoy! this is unedited so beware for typos and stuff that doesn't make sense haha love y'all <3

☆☆☆☆☆

There’s something about you that Jungkook can’t quite figure out.

Maybe it’s the way you signed the NDA when you got to his place, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling with playfulness. Maybe it’s the way you teased him, threatening to spill his secrets with a wink that went straight to his dick. Or maybe it’s the way you told him he can’t tell anyone about you either.

It can be our secret, mmh?

Your words have been resonating through him since he made you dinner And he only did so because he wants to spend some time with you, to get to know a little before he actually fucks you, and all that shit. He’s just trying to be decent. But ever since you walked into his apartment with that skirt of yours - showing your indecent, strong legs, and thighs he wants to be crushed by - Jungkook has known he’ll get his dick wet tonight.

Hell, he knew it even before that, but the sight of you has been making him feel feral. It’s nothing new - he’s been feral for you ever since the first time he saw you at the gym, with that stupid Cooky keychain he hated then.

He doesn’t hate it anymore. In truth, he doesn’t even give a shit anymore. Maybe it’s because you have him wrapped around a finger, and he’s ready to make you see stars.

“Thank you for the food,” you say as you sit back in your chair, toying with the glass of the wine you brought. 

He tilts his head to the side, offers a small smirk and says, “Anytime.”

Your eyes glint. They glint like jewels in the sun, and it strikes him deep. “Does that mean it’s time for me to repay you?”

Fuck. His blood shoots down to his dick, and Jungkook stirs in his chair.

“I think we’re on uneven grounds, mmh?” he lets out.

You cock an eyebrow. “How so?”

“I haven’t seen you come yet.”

You smile a small, secretive smile, looking at your wine. “Does that bother you?”

“It does.” He shifts in his chair, leaning closer to you. He suddenly hates that you’re sitting on the other side of the table, but he’ll be patient tonight.

He wants to savour you until the sun comes up.

“So tonight is all about me?” you tease.

He can’t help the small laugh he lets out. “Oh, I think we’ll both find our pleasure.”

It doesn’t take you long after that to get up, walking around the table. Jungkook pushes his chair away from the table, and you straddle his lap with the quiet confidence he likes about you, lowering yourself on him until he’s sure you can feel his dick on you.

And he feels you, feels the warmth radiating off of you, and he already knows his climax will hit harder than it ever has.

“So,” you purr, circling your hips. “What do you want to start with?”

His hands find your waist, and he gently rubs you with his thumbs. “Why don’t you take your shirt off?”

You’re a brat. You’re a fucking brat, because you pout, saying, “Can’t do it for me?”

He’ll go insane tonight. Thoroughly, completely insane.

What will be left of him in the morning?

“You want to play this game?” he says, voice low.

You blink innocently. “What game?”

Jungkook gets up, carrying you with him. Your eyes widen in surprise, but you recover quickly, wrapping your legs around him. And he meant to carry you to his room, but your lips find the side of his neck, and you suck hard.

“Fuck,” he hisses, and he immediately directs himself towards the wall, pinning you against it. “You’re impatient.”

You lean your head back against the wall, looking at him through your lashes. “Maybe a little.”

It spurs him into action - Jungkook captures your mouth in a languid kiss, parting your lips with his tongue to taste you. He can taste the food and the wine on you, but also a taste that is so distinctly you that he sighs in relief.

He’s a man starved when it comes to you, and he doesn’t know what to make of it.

Jungkook grinds his hips, rubbing his length on you. You whimper in his mouth, your hands pulling on handfuls of his hair, and he hisses in pain, though it only turns him on more. Still, he kisses you, sucking on your lower lip and teasing it with his teeth. He doesn’t bite down too hard, doesn’t want to hurt you, but when your tongue toys with his piercings, he knows he needs to have you now. So he makes sure he’s holding you up with one hand, and then slides the other one between your bodies. 

He makes quick work of pulling your skirt up, and then his fingers deftly push your underwear aside. One digit parts your folds, tests your wetness, and his dick twitches in his pants at just how slick you already are.

“Who’s impatient now?” you purr.

He feels an inherent need to shut you up, and so he dips his finger inside of you up to the first knuckle, swallowing the needy moan you let out. And then he’s pulling his hand away, bringing it up to your face, and he pulls away from the kiss to push his finger in your mouth.

Your lips wrap around the digit, your eyes blazing bright, and you suck on it, your tongue teasing the pad. It reminds him of how your mouth felt on his dick the last time he saw you, and he grinds into you again, loving the way your eyebrows bunch together with pleasure.

He can’t wait to hear you moan his name. That, more than anything, pushes him to pull his finger out of your mouth, and to then carry you to his room. You busy yourself on the skin of his neck as he does so, and he grunts when your tongue teases the earring he’s wearing.

“No hickey,” he reminds you when you go back to sucking on his neck.

You stop, pulling away just enough to meet his gaze. “Don’t worry, I’ll be nice.”

He’s reached the bedroom by then, and Jungkook puts you down on his bed. He takes his shirt off while you make yourself comfortable on the bed, and he throws the piece of clothing on the floor before climbing on the mattress. You immediately spread your legs for him, and he pushes your skirt up to reveal the black lacy thong you’re wearing.

It barely even hides anything, and he can already tell that you’re slowly soaking the fabric.

Jungkook doesn’t miss the way you’re eyeing his chest, lust and desire swirling in the depths of your gaze. Your eyes, glistening earlier, have turned darker, and he can’t help but admire you for it.

You’re beautiful. Beautiful in a savage, strong way that he can’t even describe. Maybe it’s your muscles, or that quiet confidence you carry yourself around with. Or maybe it’s just the way his body reacts to you - his lust for you is wild, feral, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Jungkook bends down to kiss you, hand sliding to your wrist when you run your hand through his hair. He pulls your hand over your head, pressing it into the mattress right as you wrap your legs around his waist again. 

“Be nice and don’t touch me, mmh?” he tells you.

He doesn’t wait for your answer. He’s already sliding down between your legs, readying himself to finally get the taste of you that he’s been craving. And there’s something sinful about your skirt, about your black lacy thong, so he decides to keep your clothes on, hooking one finger in your thong to pull it aside.

You’re gleaming with your slick juices, your pussy flushed red with arousal. Jungkook just knows you’ll feel divine on his dick, but first he wants to lap you up.

And so he does, leaning forward to push his tongue between your folds. Your taste is heady, inebriating, and he grunts as one of your hands shoots to his head as if you’re trying to push him closer.

“Nu-uh,” he tuts, kneeling between your legs. He grabs your hands, puts them over your head, and then says, “Don’t move.”

He doesn’t break eye contact as he slowly unbuckles his belt, and then takes it off. Doesn’t break eye contact as he ties you up with it, making sure to not make it tight enough to hurt, but still tight enough to restrain your motions. 

Your breath is ragged when he sits back on his heels, tilting his head to the side as he smirks. “Now, if you move again, I’ll tie you up to the bed too, m’kay?”

You flash a lustful smile. “Maybe I’d like that.”

It turns him on far too much, his dick rock hard in his pants. He rubs himself, watches with manly contentment as you look down at him and bite at your bottom lip.

“Careful, baby,” he says. “If you’re too much of a brat, you’re not getting anything tonight.”

“As if you can resist me.”

He can’t. He knows he can’t, so he abstains from replying, instead choosing to make you regret your words. Indeed, he goes back to your pussy, pushing your underwear aside once more to blow a breath on your clit that makes you squirm slightly. He loves it, loves everything about how your body responds to his. Even more so as he dives in, circling your clit with the tip of his tongue before sucking on it lightly. You moan, somehow shy, and he looks up at you to see your jaw as your head is thrown back.

But you’re obeying, hands gripping at the pillow over your head, and Jungkook knows he’s got you right where he wants you to be. So he unleashes himself, feasts on you until your moans grow louder, his name intertwined with your pleasure. His dick hurts in his pants from lack of stimulation, and he starts palming himself as he eats you out, as your juices cover his chin.

Circles after circles around your clit lead to it growing sensitive, flushed with so much arousal he knows you’re teetering close to your orgasm. But he won’t give in yet, won’t let you come even though he thinks the sight will entrance him, will make him worship you like a goddess.

So instead, Jungkook pulls away, blowing another breath on your clit as you whine.

“Fuck, why’d you stop?” you complain.

He smirks, waiting for you to look down at him. 

“You think I’m just going to let you come like this?”

You clench your jaw, chest going up and down rapidly as if you’ve just sprinted down the street. “You’re a little shit, aren’t you?”

He bends down, bites at your clit lightly yet it makes you cry out in pleasure, and your hands shoot to his head. 

“What did I say about touching me?” he warns.

“Jungkook…”

“Hands up, baby,” he tells you, kneeling between your legs. “I think we have to tie you to the bed.”

You obey, yet Jungkook resists from restraining your movements further. Hell, he might want to edge you, but he also wants you to be a brat, to tell him how much you want it.

So he kisses you wild instead, lets you taste yourself on his lips as his hand lets go of your wrists where he’s pinned them over your head again. He trails his way down your side, lifting your shirt so that he can graze the skin of your stomach lightly, and you let out a breathy sound that he thinks might have been his name.

“What?” he asks.

“Touch me,” you say, eyes fluttering open to meet his. 

Your gaze is sex-crazed, a clear indication that he indeed denied you an orgasm, and Jungkook sits back on his heels. 

“Where?”

“Are you always like this?” you ask.

He nods. “Only with pretty girls like you.”

He doesn’t think you like the mention of other girls - he’s been with plenty of them, but evidently that’s not something you’d want to hear. So he decides to stop teasing, to finally let you ride the wave of your climax.

If only so that you stop looking disappointed. And so Jungkook brings his hand between your thighs, collecting your juices on two fingers before slipping them inside of you. 

You’re tight. Or maybe your walls just fight against him for a moment, relaxing the second he starts rubbing on your velvety spot. Your hips raise from the bed, your back arching as you moan loudly.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you cry out.

“Feels good?”

“Yes.” You wet your lips, gaze meeting his. “Eat me out at the same time?”

He tilts his head to the side, the predator and you its prey. “Why should I?”

“I’ll suck your dick after.”

His dick twitches in his pants at your crude words, but Jungkook ignores it. “What makes you think I want that?”

“The fact that -” Your words are interrupted by a loud moan, your walls momentarily clenching around his fingers as he pushes them in and out of you quickly, his thumb rubbing on your clit. “That you came down my throat last time.”

He bends down to whisper against your lips. “Open your mouth, baby.”

You look like you want to fight him, but he knows you’re nearing your high. Indeed, your gaze has lost its focus, your cheeks are flushed red, and your breathing is ragged, so much so that he wonders if he should give you a break before fucking you.

When your lips part, Jungkook doesn’t hesitate before he spits in your mouth. You moan in answer, your walls fluttering on his digits.

“Fuck,” you curse. “I’m so close.”

He knows it. He knows it, because you’re growing impossibly tighter, and your eyes are screwed shut now, your eyebrows almost touching. So he gives in to your earlier desire, going back between your legs to wrap his lips around your clit.

He only has to suck on it once, teasing it with his tongue, for you to crash into your high, and you moan as you come, your walls pulsing on his fingers. You taste divine, like the ambrosia of the gods, and Jungkook laps you up, guides you through your orgasm. And it lasts a while, wave after wave after wave crashing into you until your thighs are shaking, instinctively closing around his head.

Only then does Jungkook pull away, looking down at your ruined panties as he slips his fingers out of you.

“Holy shit,” you let out, and the breathy laugh that follows makes Jungkook pause, eyes widening as he looks at you.

“Yeah?”

You nod. “Fuck. Yeah. That was…”

He toys on his piercing, everything in him waiting for the praise. But it doesn’t come, and his dick hurts in his pants, and all he wants is to bury himself deep in your hot wetness. So he moves away enough to remove his pants, and then he fists his cock, stroking himself as he waits for you to look at him. When you do so, he slowly takes off your underwear, never breaking eye contact, before kneeling between your legs again. 

“You think you can take me now?” he asks.

You look down at him, and your hands reach for him. As much as he wants you to touch him, he thinks he’s already close - if you were to suck him or jerk him off right now, he reckons he might come on the spot. So, once again, Jungkook pushes your hands over your head, but this time, he holds them in place before gently nudging your clit with the tip of his cock.

“Can you?” he asks.

“Can I?”

You sound confused, which he assumes might be because you’re fucked out from coming hard. So he kisses you once, pushing his tongue in your mouth lightly before he pulls away.

“Can I fuck you?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” you purr, and he loves that the brat is back.

Even more so as he rubs his dick between your folds, collecting your juices.

“You’re dripping wet, baby,” he says. “You always get this wet?”

You meet his gaze, biting at your lower lip. “What if I do?”

He starts pushing in, and you surprisingly hold onto the defiance, your smirk never fading. His, on the other hand, melts as he feels you for the first time, and you’re even better than anything he could have imagined.

“Then,” he lets out, pushing in inch by inch. He pulls back out for a second, and then pushes in again. “I better fuck you good until all you want is my dick, mmh?”

“Please.”

It’s the begging. It unravels the last of his restraint, and Jungkook pushes all the way in, grunting as he hits your cervix. He pulls out slightly as he surveys your features, aware that he might have hurt you, but you don’t look like you care.

No, your hips lift from the bed, trying to meet his, and so he starts pushing in and out, slowly at first if only to make sure you’re adjusted to his size. And when you moan his name for what might be the hundredth time but feels like the first, Jungkook increases his pace, increases the strength of his thrust until his headboard is banging into the wall.

He takes you in, takes the sight of you as you mewl from your pleasure, your walls sucking him in so good he thinks he sees stars. You’re heaven personified, his own nirvana, at least for the time that he’s fucking you.

Everything else fades away - his life, his fame, the NDA you signed that’s still on the counter. All there is is you and him, and the way that your bodies move like one. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this way while having sex. Hell, he reckons twenty years from now, he’ll still be thinking about this moment while he’s fisting his cock.

But for now, Jungkook tries to focus on the present. Tries to focus on the way you respond to his every motion, your walls clenching around him. His balls grow tight, a knot forming in his lower back as he tries not to come. It’s hard, but he manages to refrain from coming by slowing down, establishing a deeper rhythm that makes your eyes flutter open.

“I really want to touch you a bit,” you whisper.

It’s not said out of lust. There’s something else in your eyes, and Jungkook wonders if you feel like he does.

If you, too, will be thinking back on this moment twenty years down the line.

“Let me…” he trails off as he stops moving, and then he unties your wrists. 

Your arms immediately wrap around him, holding him close, and Jungkook likes it. Likes the way you lightly trace his back with your nails, and he winces as you slightly dig into his shoulders as he starts fucking you again.

“No marks,” he reminds you.

You whine, yet it morphs into a moan as he starts pounding into you again. His balls are tight, heavy, and he knows he’ll have to let himself go soon, yet he wants the moment to last just a little longer. Maybe that’s why he pulls out, flipping you on your belly. Why he takes a moment to massage your ass cheeks as you glance at him over your shoulder. Your hair is a mess, but it’s beautiful, in such a simple, feminine way that it stabs Jungkook in the chest.

Or that might be the way you’re looking at him - it’s hard to tell, and Jungkook decides to chase the vulnerability away by pushing inside of you, up until he feels your ass against him. And then he’s fucking you again, relentlessly, sweat dripping from his forehead. It falls on you, but you don’t look like you mind, and though it’s burning his eyes, he doesn’t care either.

All he cares about is the way is dick grows infinitely hard, and soon his motions grow sloppy. He focuses for a time, tries to hold it in, but then you say, “You’re so good, Jungkook”, and the praise sends him over the edge.

Jungkook slams all the way in, holding your waist tightly, and he comes deep inside of you, painting your insides white as your pussy clenches around him. He sees stars - galaxies and nebulas - and his body folds on itself until he’s got his forehead pressed to the side of your face. He thinks he might have moaned your name, moaned a silent prayer to your beauty, and the orgasm washes through him, erasing everything until he’s just a blank canvas.

It takes a long time for him to come down from his high. For his breathing to return to normal, for his blood to stop singing the song of you. Meanwhile, you’re just breathing in sync with him, your hand on his cheek - when did it get there? - as your thumb strokes idle lines on the side of his face. It’s intimate, and oh too vulnerable considering that you’re a fan, so Jungkook straightens, finally pulling out.

He watches his cum dripping out of you, the sight nearly enough to make him go feral again, but he takes a deep breath, reminding himself that, as much as he wants you, you’re still just a fan.

He’s never going to date you, is he?

But he can’t deny the attraction, or the way your body answers to his perfectly. So when you get ready to leave, later, Jungkook pulls you into a short embrace, kissing you slow as your hands rest flat on his chest. And then he pulls away so that he can meet your gaze as you look up at him.

His heart feels warm - he thinks his whole chest might slowly be catching fire. So, even though you’re just a fan, even though you probably shouldn’t, he whispers, “Can I see you again next week?”

Prev

☆☆☆☆☆

hope you guys enjoyed this... horny chapter haha jungkook finally got what he wanted with her... but he already wants more hehe let me know what you think of this chapter!

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

Taglist:

@pamzn | @chimchimmarie | @llallaaa | @backseatana | @xmspurple7x

@jadestonedaeho7

[leaawrites]

Coincidence (MV1)

Max Verstappen x fem!reader

Summary: a rare moment of peace is disturbed by none other than his ex-girlfriend.

Warnings: angst, indicating cheating (emotionally), this is all fiction, none of this is real and I don't mean to attack anyone by this.

Wordcount: 0.5k

Masterlist, Short n'Sweet Series

A text was all it took for everything to change again.

With her head on his chest, finally breathing for a second, one text had the ability to make her run again. Max was focused on the movie playing on the screen, that he didn’t even notice the vibration of his phone on the coach, his hand mindlessly playing with the hem of her shirt. He didn’t notice the second message. He didn’t even notice her budging him to gain his attention.

It wasn’t up until she had enough and moved a bit to take the phone herself that he looked away from the TV. Watching her take his phone and unlocking it. It was never a problem for them in the time they were dating, using the other’s phone for texting their parents or friends or googling whatever. It was always just about which one was nearer.

“Who is it?” Max asked, moving his fingers up and down her chest.

Looking at the contact name and message for a second longer to make sure she read everything correctly, she finally answered, “Kelly. She says P misses you.” At the mention of her name, Max took the phone from her hands. She wasn’t too sure if it was because of Kelly or P. She hoped the latter, but with the way he would still step away from her whenever they met Kelly at a party was making her doubt herself more and more.

What a coincidence that she missed him now when Y/n finally had him for herself in a long time. No racing, no meeting, just them. And her.

Lifting her head up, Max stood up, walking out of the room and dialing her number in the process of leaving his girlfriend.

Max talked for longer than usual on the phone, all while Y/n was left by herself, the TV only being a background noise to not make the thoughts get too loud.

“I’m gonna meet P and Kelly for brunch tomorrow,” Max announced, walking past her, kissing her head and continuing his path into his gaming room.

All of their freedom stolen once again.

She sat there, watching the screen but not the show. She was watching her life flying past and soon enough she was laying next to him in bed, wide awake. Hearing his voice vibrating on his bedside table, her name probably lighting up the screen. Whatever it was, Y/n was sure she wouldn’t be one knowing. Whatever effort she put into the relationship to make it work and keep it safe and hidden from the media, it would all be over once he came back the next day from brunch. He would only be half of the person she used to know and love.

The next morning Y/n without Max by her side. The bed was cold and empty. He must’ve been gone for quite some time already. He hadn’t even asked if she wanted to join them.

Turning on her phone, the first thing she saw shouldn’t be surprising.

Headline: Formula 1 Star Max Verstappen seen out and about with ex girlfriend Kelly Piquet and her daughter Penelope. Is there an old romance brewing once again?

She couldn’t blame them. Barely anyone knew that they were dating, Max wanting to keep it private for her own safety.

What a coincidence.

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

You and Boone fighting over the passenger’s seat in Tyler’s truck

Pairings: Boyfriend!Tyler Owens x Girlfriend!Reader with the chasers

Summary: You and Boone fight over the passenger’s seat in Tyler’s truck.

Warnings: Fluff, language, one mention of sex (18+), kissing, pet names

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creator.

“I call shot gun!” You say, running out of the gas station before Boone could.

“I already called it!” Boone says from behind you.

You were about halfway to Tyler’s truck when Boone caught up with you. It took everything in you to out run him. It felt like you were running a marathon to get to Tyler’s truck before Boone.

You reached your hand out to grab the handle of the passenger’s side door, but Boone beat you to it. You glared at him, panting heavily.

“I win! That means I get to sit in the shot gun seat.” He says like he just won a trophy.

“That’s not fair!” You whined like a child.

“Life ain’t always fair, little miss.” He says with a chuckle.

You narrowed your eyes at him. You tried to push him out of the way of the passenger’s door with your body, but it didn’t work. Boone is much stronger than you are.

“Move your ass, Boone.” You say, trying to sound intimidating.

“No.” He simply says.

You kept your eyes narrowed at him and glared at him in a way that scares him.

“I’m not giving up this seat so stop looking at me like that.” Boone said.

You whined loudly and crossed your arms over your chest. Tyler seen Boone guarding the passenger’s door of his truck from you. He walked over to you two to see what was going on.

“What’s going on?” Tyler asks, looking from you to Boone.

“I called dibs on the passenger’s seat before Boone, but he out ran me and got to the truck first.” You explained.

“I won fair and square, girly.” Boone says proudly.

You uncrossed your arms and tried to push Boone out of the way with your body, but it still didn’t work. Tyler pulled you away from Boone by wrapping an arm around your waist and pulled you against the front of his body.

“Boone, seriously. Give me the seat.” You say, resorting to begging.

“No.” He says again.

You huffed loudly, tilting your head back against your boyfriend’s chest. Tyler leaned down and kissed the tip of your nose, making you smile. That’s when you got an idea to get the passenger’s seat. You lifted your head, looking at Boone with a mischievous smile on your face.

“I know a reason why you don’t want that seat.” You say.

“Oh yea? What’s the reason?” Boone asks, playing along and thinking you’re messing with him when actually you’re not.

“You’re not gonna want it after I tell you what me and Tyler did in that seat.” You said with a smirk.

It didn’t take Boone long to know what you’re talking about. His hand fell from the car door handle and moved away from the passenger’s door.

“Y’all ever heard of a bed?” Boone mumbles. “I don’t want it now.” He says, walking away.

Boone walks to one of the other vehicles to ride with the other chasers on the team. You giggled, smiling proudly to yourself. You turned around and kissed Tyler. Tyler’s hands found their way to your hips, pulling you against his body.

“You had to bring up the fact that we fucked in my truck, didn’t you, darlin’?” Tyler says with a small chuckle.

“It got Boone away from my seat.” You stated. “After all, I am your passenger princess.” You say with a smile, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I think you mean passenger cowgirl. It has a nicer ring to it.” He says, kissing you.

“Even better.” You say with a smile.

🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️

Glen Powell characters tags: @cevansbaby-dove

-Bucky’s Doll

[gutsby]

Cowboy Killers

Pairing: Cowboy!Joel x Reader

Summary: On a mission to find—and fight—your best friend’s lying, cheating boyfriend at the bar, you end up throwing your drink in the wrong face and landing in a sticky situation with Joel Miller, who never plays fair.

Warnings: 18+. Drunk-Assholes-to-Enemies-to-Lovers. Oral (m!receiving). Road head. Age gap. Daddy kink.

Note: My favorite sub-genre of country music is ‘I’m Gonna Fucking Kill My Husband,’ and I think Miranda Lambert’s ‘Gunpowder & Lead’ is a perfect representation of that.

Word count: 4.1k

Forgive and forget.

Forgive and forget.

Forgive and—

“I’m about to lay this motherfucker out,” you announced.

Across the line, your friend laughed.

“Yeah? You see him?”

Of course you saw him. Who else would be wearing a Carhartt flannel and jeans in ninety-four degree heat? Not a soul in this world but your friend’s own lying, piece of shit, hopefully-soon-to-be-ex boyfriend, you guessed.

The game that Old Fuckstick Miller had decided to play tonight was a dangerous one—he was dumb as shit, and you were drunker than a skunk. He was dating your best friend, and she was not present at the Tipsy Bison to see the barefaced clusterfuck taking place before you now.

She was home, over thirty minutes away. He had told her that morning he would be working late, and not to wait up. You were here, at the bar, approaching one A.M. with a Redbull Vodka clenched in either fist and a Texas-sized frown on your face, seeing the very same man with his hands all over a woman that wasn’t your friend. You’d wanted to puke as soon as you saw them. You knew you could never trust a man who claimed to be an Austin native and couldn’t name a single George Strait song.

Your friend had only been dating the guy for a month, and you’d just seen his face in pictures up until now, but from what you could see less than twenty feet in front of you—slightly blurred from all the drinks you’d had—this guy was him. A dick. There, cheating on your best friend.

And no man would get to do that and walk out unscathed if you had anything to say about it.

Your grip tightened on either one of your fizzy drinks and, barely managing to cradle the phone between your head and your shoulder, you gestured over to another friend.

“Dave. Take it,” you said, words slurring a little.

Dave York cocked an eyebrow but said nothing as you passed him one of your RBVs and shimmied off the barstool. By the time he was able to pose his question, your ass, your phone, and your one remaining drink were already wobbling the other way. Vaguely, you heard him:

“Where ya headed, hon?”

You turned and raised your drink, then seriously doubted he would be able to hear you over the blare of the music, but yelled back anyway, ‘I’M GONNA KILL SOMEONE!’

The age-old pro-forgiveness aphorism continued to thump in your brain as you made your way over and began to contemplate every feasible method of murder.

A gun in the face would’ve been too simple—and besides, you’d never owned or shot a firearm in your life.

Poison could be fun, but from the way you were approaching the man now, you seriously doubted he’d ever let you get within a mile of his drink. You nudged the phone closer to your ear and took a sip from your own.

“Closing in,” you told your friend simply.

She’d already given you the go-ahead to execute the confrontation and beat his ass any way you pleased after the fact. Now it wasn’t so much a matter of ‘if’ but ‘when’ you’d finally get to encroach on this little loved up scene at the other end of the bar. The man had had his back turned to you, and the stunning redhead hanging off his neck, likewise, had no idea what was coming. You smiled.

“Promise you won’t go to jail this time?” your friend said.

“Will you bail me out again if I do?” Your grin got bigger.

“Well, duh.”

“Good deal. I’ll be the shitfaced inmate with ‘Fuck Men’ tattooed on her forehead. Wait for Travis County to call.”

“I love you, psycho.”

“Love you more.”

You ended the call.

And you were fully ready to end this man’s life when you saw him lean in to kiss the woman’s neck—that was sick.

You weren’t thinking straight. You weren’t seeing straight

You yelled out, ‘He-e-e-ey, honey!’ without blinking.

The couple turned.

As soon as the man had done a full 180, you flung your drink in his face and made sure the cup struck his nose.

“You cheatin’ FUCK!”

He flinched, sprayed by your vodka-infused energy juice.

The music overhead was loud, but not so deafening as to prevent the bar from hearing your shriek. From the front of the room, a band was playing ‘Gunpowder & Lead,’ and you couldn’t help but feel the song had been fate.

“What the f—” the adulterer started, evidently stunned.

You knocked the Shiner Bock out of his hand and spat:

“Working late, are we?!”

And spilled another patron’s beer reeling back.

“Got a little caught up on the way home?”

Gesturing toward the green-eyed beauty to his left. At first, the girl fixed her stare on you as if you’d sprouted another head, but then, by turns, she was tilting it to him.

“You have a girlfriend?” she hissed.

Cheater McFuckstick was wiping his beard with his hand

Shaking his head.

“Hell no, I ain’t never—”

“LIAR!”

Channeling your inner Representative Wilson circa 2009, you let your mouth fall open and stared at the big, burly man like the Congressman had once done to President Obama all those years ago. The semi-stranger in front of you was far less composed than his political counterpart.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” he snapped.

You felt your cheeks heat up.

“Is she your girlfriend?” would-be mistress said, shrill.

“NO!” you and been-knew asshole yelled together.

You saw the man’s nostrils flare, and at the same time, the woman beside him departed. Quickly. A few people around you cleared the way, while others still stared, gawked, and murmured amongst themselves. The Miranda Lambert cover band continued on without a hitch, though you could tell there had been a stir in the crowd. They probably thought the worst of it was over.

They thought wrong.

“You’re a dick,” you seethed, unrelenting.

You almost expected the man to turn and leave.

You thought wrong.

“You’re a cunt.”

And the man chucked a stray whiskey sour in your face.

The $15 spirits splattered on your skin like the meanest insult of all. His aim was better. Though he didn’t let go of the cup, as you had with him, he did make sure to coat the whole of your twisted look with the liquor, and once it landed, he had had the nerve to do something else, too.

He brought the glass to his lips then drank what was left.

“How’s it feel?” he sneered.

You stood in wet, sticky silence for half a second; arguably, you’d earned that cocktail to the face.

On the other hand, who the fuck did he think he was?

You grabbed a random can of Keystone Light and flung it at his chest to give him a hint—and catch him off-guard.

“You’re a bitch, Tommy Miller!”

“Wh—”

“Maria’s my best friend, you absolute f—”

“What—”

“—and you cheated on her for what? All so she—”

“What did you just call me?!”

“A BITCH!”

“No, the NAME!”

“TOMMY MILLER!”

“I’M JOEL!”

Oh.

Oh.

You and Joel were shortly escorted out of the bar.

Joel’s name, and a trace of bourbon, were still fresh on your tongue when you found yourself stranded in the middle of the Tipsy Bison parking lot two minutes later. You leaned into a car beside you and held your stomach.

“Someone drop you on the head as a baby?” Joel barked.

Presently, for you, the world was tilting sideways, and your head was throbbing at a nauseating tempo.

“Go around slingin’ drinks at any old man you—”

Green. Green must’ve been the color of your face as you braced your hands on your knees and assumed a stance as if to scream at the ground. Rather than expecting any noise to ring out, though, you had only to squeeze your eyes shut and hold onto a hunch for something much less pleasant. And viscous.

Reeking mostly of Red Bull and regret, if you had to guess.

Joel took a big step back, and then he took another.

“Da-a-adgummit, girl, what the—”

He turned away just in time to miss the sight of you emptying your guts on the ground, but not quite fast enough to be spared the sounds of you retching. They were loud. Joel Miller was known to be a largely imperturbable force around these parts, but even he was made to feel queasy hearing that. Out of habit, he clapped his hand to his own gut and stumbled off. He stared at the bar, then at his car, then at the gravel crushed under his feet for what felt like the longest time. Then his gaze lingered to his lower half, and he thought:

‘Please, please don’t gimme no daughters. Please.’

He was forty-five. The time for making babies and raising daughters to be anything like a woman of your ilk was probably long past him. All the same, he kept his gaze on his crotch and sighed. Balls, you better not betray me.

When he heard the crunch of rocks, he turned around.

“HEY!”

Oh, no. No. Not tonight.

You were staggering to your car, keys in hand.

“Hey!” Joel called again, jogging after you.

It seemed the second shout had done him no more favors than the first. You were fumbling to get the key inside the door, and you looked as determined as ever.

Over your shoulder, you tossed back, careless:

“You ain’t the boss of me, Tommy Miller.”

You got the key to turn. You opened the door. You were just about to climb inside what looked to Joel to be the ugliest Dodge Ram pickup he’d seen in his life, when he grabbed your arm.

“It’s Joel,” he growled. Pinching your elbow tight as he tugged it back, “And you ain’t driving anywhere tonight.”

Somewhere in front of him, tilted away from his line of vision, you must’ve been grinning, because the next thing he heard from you was the scoff of a laugh.

“Oh yeah?”

Joel flipped you around to face him.

“Yeah,” he snapped.

Feeling a bit like a kid for mimicking your tone.

What were you, twenty-two? Twenty-three? You couldn’t have been a patron of a place like Tipsy Bison for very long, or else he would’ve recognized you tonight.

Then again, you struck him as the type to have had a fake ID since you were fifteen, so he really couldn’t know.

“I’m twenny-wuh-un,” you slurred up at him, exaggerated, once he’d made you step down from the running board and onto the ground. Answering his last unspoken question with the same, sleepy grin as before. Then lifting one of your hands to wag a finger in his face, “I can drink legal anywhere I want to in this country.”

“Not there,” Joel nodded to the interstate.

You looked to where he’d gestured and whistled. Standing and staring, like he had done to his crotch.

“Well fuck me-e!” you said next, dragging out the sound a childish amount, “You the law or somethin’, Mr. Joel?”

“Ain’t no cop.” Joel rolled his eyes.

You kept smiling. Then you turned on your heels.

And instead of trying to climb back into your truck, you sauntered off—in what direction, Joel couldn’t tell. You were more so bumbling about, turning in circles like the world’s most scantily-clad, semi-intoxicated ballerina. And then you stopped. You put your hands on your hips.

“‘Cause I’m the law,” you resumed in a slow, deliberate drawl. The twang you used was mostly feigned, “And you cain’t beat the law. Don’t nobody get away with that, not even a bunch’a Alabama smart alecks, believe you me.”

Joel didn’t know what the fuck you were talking about. The man was Texas born and bred, and you knew it.

He communicated as much by pinning you with a wide, bewildered stare, and something in that seemed to amuse. You stared back, making your eyes bug out too.

“It’s a quote from a movie,” you said, after a beat, “You’ve never seen Fried Green Tomatoes before?”

Joel couldn’t say that he had.

Joel reckoned there was a lot more than just movies he didn’t share in common with you. Miss Twenty-One. Barely a year past the age he’d been when he’d moved out of the house and tried to make a living on his own.

This woman, this girl he saw twirling out in front of him now probably couldn’t pour piss out of a boot with the instructions written on the heel if he’d asked you to. Joel shook his head and moved his feet, frown etching deep.

“Alright, princess. Up.”

You didn’t seem to understand, until he’d lifted you. Up.

You were thrown over his shoulder and carried to a truck much nicer than yours in less than fifteen seconds or so.

“Stinks in here,” you said as soon as he’d set you down.

Then, sniffing the air—and grinning:

“Aw, hell, Miller…you smoke?”

Joel wished he’d said no.

Wished he’d rolled his eyes and told you to pipe down, stop asking him questions. It would’ve made the drive a whole lot easier, and more peaceful. Nowhere near as painful, either, if he were being perfectly honest—the strain in his jeans had already gotten to be more than he could bear, and all you’d asked for was a pack of smokes.

“They call ‘em Cowboy Killers,” you said, matter-of-fact.

“I know what they’re called,” Joel grumbled in reply. Flicking the radio on and hoping to find a tune that would drown out the too-lovely, cloying voice you’d assumed as soon as you thought you might win a cigarette off of him. More chatty now than ever.

And for one, blissful moment, Toby Keith had you beat. The calm was fleeting. As soon as ‘Who’s Your Daddy’ started to drift through the car’s old speakers, you reached across and turned the knob to the left.

“Gross,” you muttered.

“What?”

“Got a light?”

“Blow me.”

Joel’s harsh, clipped tone was deliberate. The way he’d made himself mean—meaner than he’d been around a woman in a long, long time—was a choice. He couldn’t let your faux sweetness win him now. Not after you’d thrown two drinks in his face, mocked his truck, and foreclosed any possibility of getting laid by way of all your publicized infidelity philippics and shit-talking. Giving in to your charms from where you sat in the passenger seat now would only sink him further in his own esteem. Simply put, Joel’s ego couldn’t take it.

“Okie doke,” you said presently. Shrugging.

“Now keep your—HEY!”

Joel nearly swerved his truck off the road and into a ditch. Your deft little hands had slipped into his lap—and started palming his crotch through the denim.

He’d just managed to right the vehicle before jerking a look your way, staring at your hand, then your face:

“What the fuck was that?!”

“You said ‘blow me,’ Joel!” you huffed, and you seriously appeared as distraught as he was, “Sorry for listening!”

Joel grit his teeth with all the force of a cold steel trap.

“You’re fuckin’ nuts.” He gripped the wheel even tighter.

“I’m aware.”

“Where the hell do you live, anyway?”

You told him.

Your hand slipped down to the seat beside him.

And just as Joel let out what felt like the tiniest sigh of relief—he knew where that was, and the address sounded vaguely familiar—he yelped again. This time, he managed to keep control of his truck, but it was hard.

Your fingers had returned, and they were kneading the bulge under his jeans. Joel flushed from head to toe.

He didn’t have so much as half a mind to make you stop. He didn’t want to see you slink back over to your side of the car. But you were twenty-one, and he was forty-five. And you were both under the influence to some degree. And he was driving, for fuck’s sake. Shit like that only worked in dreams—not on a highway in a town like this.

He turned the radio dial to 75. At length, he heard it loud:

‘WHO’S YOUR DADDY? WHO’S YOUR BA-A-A-ABY?’

He saw you cringe.

“C’mon, Joel,” you groaned, “That’s…yuck.”

The fingers of the one hand kept digging, rubbing, but the other reached out and turned the music down again.

Joel shifted in his seat, feeling the pleasure start to bloom from the pit of his stomach, but not wanting to let you off that easy. Briefly, he looked from the road to you.

“What? You got a problem with Toby Keith?”

“I got a problem with anyone sayin’ ‘daddy’ like that.”

You unzipped his fly. Popped the button of his jeans from underneath the soft shelf of belly hanging over it, and held him, finally. You could only cup his erection through his boxers at that point, but the friction was enough to send a shiver through the whole of the old man’s body. He hadn’t been touched like that by a hand that wasn’t his own in…he couldn’t remember how long. He sighed.

“That why you’ve got your hand down the pants of a man old enough to be your father?” Joel quipped.

He couldn’t help it.

Your hand only gripped him tighter. From the passenger seat, you’d leaned over and started crawling. Scowling.

Your knees swiftly planted themselves on the old, upholstered cushion of the bucket seat, and you slipped a touch beneath the waistband of his underwear. With a hand that was smooth and soft and eager to please, you wrapped your fingers around that base and leaned in.

“You sound like you want me to say it,” you whispered.

Under your hand, he pulsed. His gaze stayed on the road.

“Don’t make no difference to me, sweet pea,” he said, and was amazed how even he was able to keep his tone:

“But those ‘Cowboy Killers’ you wanted…”

Your fingers curled tighter. Your head sank lower.

“…they don’t come cheap, y’know.”

Oh, you knew. He saw a smile snag at the corners of your lips as you brought them to his lap, and he had to force himself to look at the road again. It was empty and dark.

The tarmac stretched out for days. The fields rolling past warned sternly, ‘Don’t let her win,’ and something more in between each tree seemed to invite deliberation—remembrance, maybe. Joel was far too focused on the feel of your mouth to give the woods a second thought.

You’d worked the first inch between your lips in a slick, obscene sort of kiss; you made room for just the head and then toyed with a bead of precum leaking out of his slit. You licked it, squeezed the shaft in your hand, and hummed while the first real moan rumbled through him.

Joel turned to putty with just that flick of your tongue. He didn’t have to see your face to know he was losing.

On the wheel, his grip grew tighter, and he choked out:

“Ain’t your fuckin’ lollypop, kid.”

Then, dropping one hand to push down on your head—make you take him to the back of your throat in one go.

“Daddy wants you to suck him like a big girl, hear?”

At the base of his cock, he felt you gag. From the bottom of his heart, Joel knew there was no sound sweeter than that. He ran his fingers over your skull and tapped gently.

“If you want those smokes,” he told you—and really, with all the warmth and moisture of your mouth enveloping him now, he’d had to try to sound rougher than he was, “You’re gonna do what daddy says and suck him right.”

You gagged again, then squeezed his denim-clad leg with the hand that wasn’t wrapped around his member.

Joel yanked you by your hair and made you look up.

Your cheeks were already smeared with spit and tears. Much to his surprise, he found your eyes alight and soft.

Suffused with desire, too, from what he could see.

“Yes, daddy.” You grinned up at him.

Joel knew if he let your gaze stay on his a second longer now he’d either crash his car, blow his load, or fall in love—and he simply refused to let you succeed on any of those fronts, so he shoved your face back down.

You sucked him obediently. Greedily. Mouth growing more pliant and wet by the second, as if your jaw and salivary glands had contrived to get him as close to release as possible, as quickly as they were able.

Joel took a left onto a road he had only a dim recognition as being connected to yours, and he got that feeling again. You were bobbing your head, taking him further, flattening your tongue along the bottom of his member when his pleasure swelled inside him. At the same time, he felt a sense of dread. His hands were shaking on the wheel. He didn’t dare steal a look down to the sweet, soaked, perfect little mouth sucking him dry, because he knew that feeling would only strike twice as hard. He had to cum, or make you stop, or bring his truck to a halt.

As it was, he felt five tiny crescents sink into his thigh as you gripped him tighter, and a noise bubbled up in your mouth. Your breathing went shallow, and your lips stretched wide—you were trying, and succeeding, in deep-throating his thick, throbbing, much-too-old-for-a-girl-her-age member down close to your windpipe, and Joel could feel it. He hit his blinker, not thinking, and saw a sign that marked your street. Trepidation hit him again.

Fully, this time, in a feeling that was more like terror.

He didn’t have another second to question it, either. By the time he had the old, lone farmhouse in his sights and his heart nearly halfway up his throat with fear, your own throat pulsed, and opened the last two inches to him in. Your nose found their home in the rough, grey, wiry hairs at the base of his belly, having swallowed him whole, and Joel quickly sensed the start of what he knew too well.

He came down your throat in one, two, three, four, five long spurts, and didn’t let his foot off the gas even once.

He saw your house, approaching closer now, and paled.

No fucking way.

You’d wanted to skip the whole way up your drive.

Spit still drying on your cheeks, cum resting comfortably in your belly, and a smile as bright as the sun on your face as you waved to the F-150 pulling off toward the road, you’d never felt more alive—or smug—in your life.

“Is your dad…Lucien Flores?” Joel had asked no more than a second after his dick slipped out of your mouth.

“The one and only.”

Somehow, his face got even paler. His jaw visibly clenched, and his palm hit the top of the wheel. Hard.

It was then that you’d learned your father had hired Joel Miller on as a full-time ranch hand sometime last week.

He’d remembered the address, vaguely, but didn’t connect the dots until he’d pulled up in front of your house and damn near punctured your windpipe with his pulsing dick from how fast he’d jumped up—and cum.

His spend had almost shot through your nose with the force of it, but you didn’t mind. Once he’d revealed the wild, gory, and admittedly hilarious details of his newfound employment, you were too busy laughing your ass off to care if he’d torn your throat in two with his dick.

“So you really are a cowboy, then,” you’d said, giggling.

Joel had scowled. Rolled his eyes. Practically turned the color of a tomato when you leaned in and kissed him.

Now you were waving to him from your front door.

Joel’s truck was slow to go. The taste of him was fresh.

And there, weighing light in your back pocket while you said goodbye was a brand new pack of Marlboro Reds.

2:21 AM

You were safely in bed. You checked your phone.

Aside from fourteen missed calls, you saw:

1:09 AM – Maria

DUDE

1:09 AM

TOMMY JUST CAME HOME

1:09 AM

THAT’S NOT HIM AT THE BAR

1:13 AM

IT’S JUST JOEL!! HIS BROTHER!!!

1:13 AM

ABORT ABORT ABORT

1:42 AM

DAVE SAID YOU BEAT JOEL UP???? CALL ME

1:54 AM – Dave York

Ur gonna fuck that old dude aren’t u

[judebellswife]

Shattered Trust, Mended Hearts

— REQUESTED by ANON / REQUEST status: OPEN

— pairing • jude bellingham x soft!reader

— summary • Jude Bellingham, consumed by jealousy and fueled by rumors, believes his girlfriend is cheating on him. In a moment of anger, he refuses to let her explain, kicking her out of their shared apartment. Tragedy strikes when she gets into a life-threatening accident, leaving Jude overwhelmed by guilt and regret. With her in the hospital, he reflects on his mistakes and learns that love and trust are fragile but worth fighting for. Realizing that she never betrayed him, Jude is forced to confront his own insecurities. Together, they find a way to rebuild their broken relationship, restoring what was lost in a sea of misunderstanding and pain.

— warnings • Heavy angst, miscommunication, car accident, hospital scenes, mention of injuries, emotional turmoil.

"Jude, please, just listen to me—"

"I’ve already heard enough!" Jude's voice roared through the apartment, his anger palpable, bouncing off the walls like daggers. He stood in the kitchen, fists clenched, chest heaving, trying to contain the flood of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. His dark eyes, usually so warm when they looked at you, were cold and distant, as if he couldn’t even recognize you.

You stood frozen near the door, the keys you had just placed on the entry table trembling under your fingers. You had no idea what you were walking into. Coming home after a long day at work, all you wanted was to relax with Jude, maybe watch a movie, talk about your day—but instead, you were met with fury.

"Jude," you whispered, your voice shaking, tears already welling in your eyes. "Please. Just tell me what’s going on."

He scoffed bitterly, turning away from you as he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Don’t act like you don’t know," he muttered, his back to you now as he stared out the window into the rainy night.

You blinked, confused. "I—I don’t know what you’re talking about."

Jude whipped around, his expression dark. "Oh, don’t play innocent, Y/N. I know about you and Ryan."

The mention of Ryan's name hit you like a punch to the gut. Ryan was a colleague from work—someone you'd had to collaborate with closely for the last few weeks due to a project, but it had never been anything more than that. He was friendly, sure, but you never saw him in that way. You never even thought Jude would be suspicious. "Ryan? Jude, he's just a co-worker, we—"

"A co-worker? That’s funny, because that’s not what everyone else seems to think!" Jude's voice was dripping with bitterness, a tone you had never heard from him before. "Do you think I’m stupid? You think I don’t see the way you’ve been acting? Coming home late, spending more time with him than with me—"

You shook your head frantically, trying to approach him, but he stepped back, his face twisted in hurt and disbelief. "Jude, no, it's not like that! I swear, it’s just work! There’s nothing going on between me and Ryan, you have to believe me!"

But Jude wasn’t listening. He wasn’t hearing you. All he could see, all he could feel, was the poison that had been festering in his mind for days, the doubts and insecurities that had been fueled by whispers and rumors. He was blinded by his pain.

"You think I’m an idiot? You think I haven’t heard the rumors? Everyone’s been talking about it, Y/N. About how you and him have been seen together, laughing, having lunch, all those 'late nights' at the office. I bet they weren’t all about work, were they?"

You were shaking now, tears streaming down your face as you tried to reach out to him. "Jude, please. I would never—"

"I don’t want to hear it!" His voice cracked, loud and raw, and it silenced you. His anger was too much, too overwhelming. You had never seen him like this before—this angry, this distant. And it broke your heart to see the doubt in his eyes, the mistrust.

"I thought I knew you," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, almost more painful than his shouts. "I thought we had something real. But maybe I was wrong."

Your chest constricted painfully, your breath hitching as you reached for him one last time, desperate to hold on to something that was slipping away. "Jude, please," you whispered, your voice breaking. "Don’t do this. I love you."

But Jude’s gaze hardened. "If you loved me, you wouldn’t have lied to me."

The silence that followed was deafening, your heart shattering into a million pieces as he turned his back to you again, his next words sealing your fate.

"Get out."

You stood there, frozen, your mind racing as you tried to comprehend what he had just said. "What?"

"Get. Out," he repeated, his voice quiet but firm, as if he couldn’t even bear to look at you anymore. "I don’t want to see you right now."

Your world came crashing down in that moment, the weight of his words too much to bear. You opened your mouth to say something, to beg him to listen to you, but no words came out. You felt numb, completely broken.

With trembling hands, you grabbed your bag and stumbled toward the door, your vision blurry from the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. As you reached for the doorknob, you turned back one last time, hoping—praying—that Jude would stop you, that he would realize how wrong he was and call you back.

But he didn’t.

He stood there, rigid and unmoving, his eyes focused on the floor, his expression unreadable.

And so, you left.

The rain was relentless, soaking through your clothes as you stepped out onto the dark street. You wrapped your arms around yourself, shivering both from the cold and the overwhelming despair that consumed you. You couldn’t think straight. You couldn’t breathe. All you could do was walk, your feet moving without direction, aimlessly wandering the city streets, your mind still reeling from everything that had just happened.

How had things gone so wrong? How had the love you shared with Jude turned into this nightmare?

You pulled out your phone, trying to dial your friend’s number, but your hands were trembling too much to type properly. You managed to hit send, but as you crossed the street, you didn’t hear the roar of the car coming toward you until it was too late.

The blinding lights flashed before your eyes, and then— Nothing.

Jude sat on the couch, his hands covering his face as he let out a shaky breath. He had kicked you out. The realization sank in slowly, the weight of what he’d done pressing down on him like a heavy, suffocating blanket.

I kicked her out.

The anger that had burned so fiercely in him just moments ago was gone, replaced by a sickening sense of guilt and dread. The apartment felt too quiet, too empty without you there. And now, sitting there alone in the dark, he couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling that something was terribly wrong.

His phone buzzed in his lap, dragging him out of his thoughts. It wasn’t a number he recognized.

"Hello?" His voice was hoarse, tired.

"Is this Jude Bellingham?" a woman’s voice asked, calm but urgent.

"Yes," he answered slowly, his heart beginning to race. "Who is this?"

"This is St. Mary’s Hospital. I’m calling about your partner. She’s been in an accident."

Jude felt the floor drop out from beneath him. "An accident? What—how bad is it?"

"She’s in critical condition. We need you to come to the hospital as soon as possible."

Jude’s legs felt like lead as he sprinted through the hospital’s sterile halls, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he reached the emergency ward. His heart pounded violently in his chest, panic rising with each step.

A nurse led him to your room, where the sight of you lying in the hospital bed, hooked up to machines, left him frozen in place.

His world shattered in that moment.

You were so pale, so still, and the beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound in the room. Jude sank into the chair by your bedside, his hands shaking as he reached out to take yours.

"I’m so sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking as tears filled his eyes. "God, I’m so sorry, *Y/N*. I didn’t mean any of it. I should’ve believed you."

He squeezed your hand gently, bringing it to his lips as his tears fell freely now. "Please wake up," he begged. "Please. I need you. I—I love you. I was so stupid. I should have trusted you."

The guilt gnawed at him, tearing him apart as he watched your chest rise and fall weakly with each breath. How had he let things spiral this far? Why hadn’t he listened? Why hadn’t he let you explain?

For three days, Jude didn’t leave your side. He barely slept, barely ate. He couldn’t think of anything else but you and how wrong he had been.

When your fingers twitched on the fourth day, Jude’s heart leapt in his chest.

Your eyes fluttered open, groggy and disoriented, the bright lights of the hospital room making you wince. Everything felt heavy, your body aching, and it took you a moment to remember what had happened.

"Y/N?" Jude’s voice was soft, but urgent, pulling you back to reality. You turned your head slowly, finding him sitting beside you, his face pale, eyes red-rimmed and swollen from crying.

"Jude…" you whispered, your voice hoarse.

Jude reached for your hand, his fingers trembling as he held yours tightly. "I’m so sorry," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I was so wrong, *Y/N*. I was so stupid. I—I didn’t trust you, and I should have. I should have believed you. None of this—none of this would’ve happened if I hadn’t been such an idiot."

You blinked, trying to process everything, your heart aching at the sight of him so broken. "Jude…" you whispered again, trying to find the right words. "It’s okay."

"No, it’s not." He shook his head, tears spilling down his cheeks as he pressed your hand to his lips. "It’s not okay. I almost lost you because I was too caught up in my own insecurities to trust you. I should’ve known you would never… I should’ve known better."

You looked into his eyes, the raw pain and regret there clear as day, and despite everything—despite the accident, the pain, the heartache—you still loved him. You had always loved him. "Jude, I love you," you whispered, managing a small smile despite the tears in your own eyes. "I never wanted to hurt you. I would never cheat on you."

He let out a shuddering breath, leaning down to rest his forehead against your hand. "I know," he whispered. "I know now. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, I swear. If you’ll have me."

You squeezed his hand weakly, your voice soft but filled with emotion. "Of course I will. I’m not going anywhere."

Jude let out a soft, broken laugh through his tears, leaning in to gently press his lips to your forehead. "I love you so much," he whispered against your skin. "And I’m never letting you go again."

[gojo-licious]

Bunny's Debut

Summary: You have started Halloween preparations by trying on your bunny costume!

Warnings: 18+, mdni, fem! reader, pus drunk Satoru, oral (f receiving), lots of praise, spanking (kinda), (& tell me if I forgot something!)

“How do I look, Sato?" You ask innocently as you try on your bunny costume. The faux leather fabric hugs your butt a little more firmly than you had expected.

The hairband with floppy bunny ears stirring atop your head to complete the look.

“Show me baby! I’m waiting patiently. “ Satoru replies enthusiastically as he hurries into the bedroom, eagerly to get a glimpse of your new outfit. "But isn’t it a little too early to be trying out Hallowee-" He immediately halts every movement as his eyes lay on you.

"Doesn’t it look cute?!“ you ask excitedly as you pose to give him a better look from different angles and playfully wiggle your butt with the bunny tail on it. "I thought I could be a bunny and you could be a wolf or farmer! Cute right!“

Satoru can barely think as he looks at you. The way the fabric of the clothing item clings to you and how confident and playful you are being is making it impossible for him to form a coherent sentence. "Bunny, you look so gorgeous, my precious angel. Come closer so I can get a better look."

There is a crazed look in Satoru’s eyes as he watches you walk closer to him. Every step makes his heart beat rise. As you get close to him, his hands find their place on your waist and he pulls you in further.

"Baby, you need to stop torturing me like this. At least give me a warning or something.“

His hands wander lower and lower until they are comfortably placed on your butt. He playfully pulls on the bunny tail.

"I really, and I mean really, like this on you. You dressed up so pretty for me.“

"Who else is going to be my big bad wolf. " The playfulness in your voice sends blood rushing to Satoru’s cock.

He lets out a groan. "You really are a little brat, huh?" Satoru leans in to capture your lips. He wastes no time and pulls the zipper of your costume to loosen its hold your body. He leans back a little to get a look at you, but you chase his lips and press against him harder. His hardened cock presses against you and makes him whimper at the friction.

"B-baby. Let me breathe." He reluctantly pulls away, acting like he needs you more than air. This time instead of going for your lips, he targets your neck as one of his hands decide to reach for your exposed tits. He pinches your nipple lightly, making you moan out.

„Toru~“ You whine out in frustration and hoping he will give your neglected pussy some of his attention. Your hips move on their own to try and eliminate some of your impatience that way, but the second your leather covered clit comes in contact with Satoru's muscular thigh, all thought leave your head, leaving you a hazy mess.

„What is it baby?“ he teased, knowing well that you are trying your best to keep your eyes open and attention on his words. „Does my pretty girl need something?“

You choose to ignore his words and continue to chase after your pleasure. „Hey now.“ he spanks your butt to get your attention. „I would like my girl to answer my question. I wanna help her out~“ he continues on playfully as he sees you getting annoyed at the fact he pulled you out of your lust-filled-haze.

„Fine!“ you reply a little annoyed at him, knowing damn well he stopped you on purpose. „If you want to be soo helpful, why don’t you come eat me out then!“ you state with a little attitude in your voice as you walk to your bed and slip the costume off.

„Of course I will, baby. You did get all dressed up for me!“ Satoru quickly gets on his knees, not minding your attitude and pushes your thighs to your chest. He expects you to hold the posterior as he dives into your cunt. Satoru places a kiss on your clit thought your panties before pushing them to the side.

He lets out a moan at the sight of your pussy. „Baby, you can be annoyed at me all you want, but your pussy is so happy to see me.“ He laps at you in a hurry, like he was starving and had to wait for weeks to get to you again.

Satoru has a way with his mouth. But only you knew how good he was with his tongue. He buries himself between your thighs and bumps his nose to your clit to entice cute moans out of you that are only meant for his ears.

„Baby, you gotta be louder for me. I can barely hear you over how wet you are. Can you do that for me?“ Satoru asks before he harshly sucks on your clit before soothing it with his tongue and elicits a loud moan that you don’t even bother holding back.

„Good girl. I know you could do it.“ He mumbles as he goes back to fuck you with his tongue. The slurping, lapping and moaning into your pussy is too overwhelming and making your head spin.

„O-oh, you- you need to slow down, Toru!“ You shift your legs so that you can hold both of them to your chest with one arm and with the other hand, you can pull on Satoru's hair in an attempt to give your pussy a break from him.

„Nu-uh.“ Satoru spanks your ass harshly. „Baby, you can’t take her away from me. Not when you’re about to cum on my face.“ He spreads your cheeks apart to get a better angle and goes right back.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you can barely make out any sensation other than Satoru's mouth on you and his breathy moans that send sparks of pleasure through your body.

"Are you about to cum, pretty girl? Yeah? Aw, don’t hold back now. Give me everything you got.“ He chuckles as you clench down on his tongue once he pressed it all the way in.

As expected, your whole body starts to shake in pleasure. You have to go back to using both of your hands to hold your legs to your chest as your orgasm washes over you.

„Good girl!“ Satoru places a soft kiss on the back of your thighs as he stands up. He leans over to capture your lips in a messy kiss as he rubs small circles on your clit.

„How about I fuck my bunny standing up, hm? The big bad wolf is strong enough to hold his pretty girl in his arms."