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kamitv · 9 days

Note

could you write about who you think are the most touch/affection-starved of the jjk boys? the thought of them crumbling at the slightest touch and savoring every second with us makes me 🥴🥴🥴

▷ Delicate

Sypnosis . Men who fold under your touch. / Pairings . (Separate) Nanami x f!reader, Choso x f!reader, Ino x f!reader / Content . afab!reader, established relationships, fluff, begging men, sensitive men, soft sex, filth, dirty talk, etc. / wc . 4.8k

A/N: Grieving over the loss of my man right now-- Gege I hate you and the air that you breathe. This was going to include more men but due to the loss of my lover, my mood was ruined and I couldn’t finish what I had for the others… Anyway, not proof-read, hope you enjoy! ^.^ [MDNI]

★ Nanami Kento

While it may be a bit... unexpected, yes, Nanami is sensitive to your touch. Each one lingers on his skin, seeps through his clothing, and tattoos itself onto him.

He's a very stoic and, usually, stern man but when it comes to you, he's almost like putty under your touch. It's intoxicating really, the way you're always caressing his arms, grabbing his hand to hold when the two of you walk or even during sex.

You're quite the touchy woman and Nanami can't say he doesn't love that about you.

When he comes home after a long day of work, you'd rush to the door to greet him, dressed in your comfort clothes from head to toe with that bright smile of yours latched to your face. Your hands are on him instantly, helping him rid himself of his coat, his tie, hell, even his shoes sometimes if you're feeling enthusiastic enough.

It's cute really. The way you help him undress as soon as he steps into the house, asking him how his day was and reciprocating with a not-so-eventful tale of your day. He's listening to your every word though, hanging off every syllable even, but you don't notice it.

Even as you guide him toward the kitchen to show him a surprise dinner you'd whipped up, you're rambling about something concerning your cooking process and he's hearing every word but, the way your fingers slip down his arms, curl around his wrist to pull him along, release him and then press into his chest to stop him from walking-- it was truly alluring.

Nanami swears he wasn't always this sensitive to touch. He doesn't know why exactly his heart swells in while you keep your hand flat on his chest, your attention on some nearby pot as you continue to talk.

You were explaining something but he'd stopped listening, his eyes all over the side of your face and soon trailing to your arm, and then to the hand you've got on him.

Nanami's hand would be moving before he even realizes, slipping so gracefully to your wrist and moving your hand off of him just to lean down a bit and plant a loving kiss across your knuckles.

"And then I almost-," His sudden kiss would make your brain freeze, head whirling in his direction to see your husband planting peck after peck before he shifts your hand to cup the side of his face and then meets your gaze.

Those gentle brown eyes of his would be so sappy and soft with you, filled with a love you can hardly comprehend as he rests his head against your palm, grinning at you. What a handsome man you've married.

You couldn't be happier as you look at him, even with the sigh that leaves you, "Kento..."

His brows would raise ever so slightly, "Hm?"

"Did you hear anything I just said?" You'd huff out. And there's this slight frustration in your voice but he loves it anyway, completely and utterly smitten for you no matter the situation.

Nanami nods, just barely, before turning his head and kissing the inside of your palm, "Mhm," He hums casually, "You were telling me how you almost burned our kitchen down."

"Yes, and..." Your eyes narrow at the man, watching how he just kisses and kisses your palm, almost as though he couldn't pull himself away, "Ken..." Your hand slips a bit and you caress his face, "Are you okay?"

His hand, much veinier and larger than yours, would come up and cup yours over his face, "Yes, yes, I'm fine. Your touch is just so... soft."

That earns a smile from you, "Is it?" You'd giggle amid your question, eyes lowering at the man before you.

"Yes, it is," Nanami responds simply. Then he begins moving your hand to the side of his neck and his head tilts as he looks at you, stepping closer and closing the slight space between you and him, "I love how gentle it is, how loving, how caring."

"Oh?" Your smile widens and you move your other hand away from the, now forgotten, pot and it goes toward the buttons of his shirt, "Should I start touching you more then?"

"I implore you to, yes," Nanami huffs out, his body leaning toward yours.

You bring your lower lip into your mouth and tip your head a bit, one hand toying with the buttons of his shirt and the other caressing the side of his neck, "Since when has my touch had you this... pleading," You question, words coming out slow as his eyes drop to your lips.

Your husband takes his other hand and grabs a careful hold onto your wrist, dragging your hand further down his body and making you feel against his abs through his clothing as he leans closer to you. His free hand then moves to your waist and he tugs you to him, closing any and all space left.

"Always," Nanami confesses to you, "Your touch makes me weak, sweetheart." He explains with that gentle yet deep voice of his, always so soft when speaking to you.

You smile, "Weak?"

"Yes, weak," Nanami whispers in agreement with a steady nod of his head, eyes doting on every aspect of your facial expression.

The man was so in love and his poured out of his every gaze, brown eyes lingering on your lips long enough to silently tell you what he wanted. So, your hand steadily undoes the first button on his shirt, moving your other hand from his neck to assist yourself.

Your eyes on his the entire time, you unbutton at least four buttons before taking a finger and grazing his bare chest, watching how his breathing stutters from something so light.

Smiling, "This, Kento..." Your voice is small in a sultry whisper as you drag your finger down and down until you pass his torso and reach the hem of his pants, "This makes you, weak?" You as tauntingly just before you begin unbuckling his belt.

His heart rate quickens and he swallows loud enough for you to hear, sighing as his head weighs to the side a little, "Hahh, yes, my love," Nanami tells you, face inclining down to your own.

Your gaze and his meet and the eye contact is heavy with tension, your fingers working his belt loose before you're teasing him by just barely unbuttoning his pants and making sure your fingers caress the area below his abdomen.

Nanami's lips twitch and so badly does he want to kiss you but he's too busy hanging off the slow words leaving your lips.

"Who would've thought?" You utter, smiling at your husband, "A serious man like you crumbling to your wife's small touches."

He tilts his head further and his lips are practically on yours as he speaks, "Small or not... they're touches from my wife." He emphasises just before giving you but a small peck on the lips.

You hum, "I suppose."

And then you're finally kissing him, lips molding into one another and his body melting to the feel of you. Oh how Nanami loves the way your lips part for his tongue to push through, the way you kiss him back with just as much passion as he approaches you with, and how warm and savory the inside of your mouth is.

Soft smacks emit from the two of your lips sliding over one another, your husband nipping at your lower lip and quick to kiss you like it's the last thing he'll ever do. Then his hands are grabbing a firm hold of your waist, silently telling you that you're his to hold and touch however he feels.

His fingers, large, veiny, and thick, feel you through the fabric of your top, unable to pry off of you once he's got you in his grasp.

Then, into your mouth so very lowly, h's grunting, "Undress me," Nanami orders as he slightly steps forward with you.

You step back accordingly and your hands are flying back up, unbuttoning the rest of his shirt and feeling him up afterward as you start slipping the item off of his body.

"Like this? Hm?" You whisper back to him as his shirt hangs off of him, his hands gripping onto you tighter and tighter whilst he walks you backward and out of the kitchen.

His voice makes your knees weak as his mouth detaches from yours and drops to your neck while you move to finally get his slacks off, "Yes, like that. Good girl," Nanami praises against your neck, soft but hot kisses making you gasp.

With your voice all breathy and your feet and hands stumbling with the large eager man before you, "C'mon Ken, at least make it to the bedroom," You murmur, his pants loose on his hips as he bulge brushes against your front.

"I'm trying." He groans, breath simmering into the crook of your neck before his tongue is felt against you.

You can't help but giggle, "You're trying?"

"Yes," He huffs out, voice hinted with this tune you rarely hear from him too often.

You're walking back and back until you bump into a wall for a second, your bedroom door now to your right as Nanami marks up your neck messily. Then you snicker, "Mmmh, I like you like this, Kento," You comment, to which he sighs.

Then he's off your neck and moving you to walk backward into your bedroom, clearly no longer patient.

Cocking his head to the side, "Like what?" Nanami asks curiously.

You shrug and the back of your legs hit the front of your bed, "Desperate, almost," You hum, brows furrowing a bit.

Nanami helps you settle yourself onto the mattress completely before he's crawling on top of you, shrugging his shirt completely off of his body and revealing his full chiseled physique to you.

"Starved?" He asks, trying to find the word you were looking for.

You shake your head and then it comes to you, your arms wrapping around his neck and tugging him down to you before you whisper, "Craving."

Nanami gazes at you for a long moment, simply taking you in before nodding his head slowly, "Craving, yes." He agrees.

Then, another long press of his lips to yours is made and your legs are adjusted to wrap around his waist, Nanami wanting any and all parts of you on him now.

His lips shift to the left a little and he kisses the side of your mouth, then your cheek, and then he drops to your neck again, making you do nothing more than smile as his hands work to get your clothes off of you.

Your top is soon removed, bottoms followed soon after, all of which is discarded to the floor somewhere before Nanami's kissing you again and forcing your hands to be on him.

"Run your fingers through my hair," He murmurs, directing one of your hands to his blonde locks of hair. Then, he takes the other hand and moves it to wrap around his neck, "Scratch my back while I fuck you," Nanami whispers, works making your breathing unsteady while he suddenly grinds his hard cock down into you, "Try pushing me away when it becomes too much, I don't care, just want your hands on me, okay?"

His directions had you hot all over, pupils dilated already, breathing heavy from his constant kisses, and your hands quick to run along his tensed skin before you nod with an obedient, "Yes sir." Leaving you.

Nanami just barely smiles and you feel his heavy cock twitch against you, "What'd I tell you about that?"

"I don't remember," You whipser, your fingers slipping down from his hair to caress his jawline and then pulling his face closer to your own, "Remind me, sir."

There's a smile on his face as his lips finally near your own again, "You'll be the death of me one day." Nanami utters to you lovingly.

And maybe one day you will.

But tonight?

Tonight you are nothing more than a hole for him to fill as he soon grunts into your ear telling you how good your cunt feels around him, telling you how pretty you look taking his cock, and moaning out how much he loves the way you touch him.

★ Choso Kamo

You always knew he was sensitive to your touch. Look at him. No, literally, look at the man. He's not sensitive to everything but your touch is most definitely his weakness.

You once gave the man nothing more than a handjob and he was cumming all over the damn place. You're not sure if you've ever seen your boyfriend so... whiney.

Choso had his legs spread like a slut for you as you sat oh so prettily beside him, fingers wrapped around his cock and stroking him torturously slow. Your thumb would caress his bulging veins, fingers would twirl around his fat tip, tap and slip in between the slit of his cock, teasing him.

And since you were sitting beside him, your breasts would graze the side of his arm, making him flinch over and over. You had him so tense, so sweaty, so loud.

Choso didn't even know he could moan this much just from someone's hand. He's jerked himself off plenty of times but when you do it, it's like blood rushes to both his head and his cock, his vision would blur, and his breathing would grow unsteady.

Maybe it's because of how you had teased him beforehand, running your manicured nails along his inner thigh as the two of you tried to watch a movie together. Only for your hand to accidentally graze his dick, somehow groping him through his clothing and then turning to look at him.

That was when he began to sweat buckets, cock springing up under your palm at one measly little touch and his breath hitching.

Then he was whispering a gruff little, "Baby," Making you smile as you did nothing but innocently bat your lashes at him. To which he'd tip his head back against the couch and swallow, "Stop teasin'..."

You then scooted closer to him, your thigh touching his as your voice neared his ear, "I barely even touched you, Cho," You had whispered, watching how even in the dim lighting, his face grew red and he struggled to keep his composure.

Turning his head to you, Choso was quick to meet your eyes with a low and desperate gaze, lids dimming, brows tensing, and breathing heavy. "Then touch me more, please." He requested quietly, deep voice making your cunt jump with excitement.

You quickly switched hands so that you could turn your torso to him, which was when your breast pressed into his arm and your hand then moved to work his cock out.

And yes, in minutes he was cumming in your hand, making such an embarrassing mess of your fingers. Your hand was so soft, jerking his twitching cock off so perfectly.

Choso was groaning into the air like he couldn't control it, "H-Hahh, aagh, baby-, baby fuck, y-your ha-hahh, hand-," His voice... squeaks? as he says that last word, pitching so deliciously that you have to squeeze your thighs together as you watch him tense up yet again, "S-Shit, m'gonna cum again," Choso breathed out through gritted teeth.

He was so sexy all sensitive and tense for you, making you smile as you watched his face twist up and his eyes flicker every time you focused your palm on his tip.

"Again, Cho? You're makin' such a mess, baby," You coo softly, breath just barely hitting his ear and adding on to the numerous things he was feeling.

His head was spinning at this point and he couldn't stop himself from watching your, much smaller, hand jerk him off, from quick pulls and tugs to slow drags and caresses, to twisting and rolling-- Choso was both in a daze and high off of watching you stroke his aching cock.

God damn you knew how to use your hand. You knew where he was sensitive, knew what to do and how to do it.

His cock was wet with cum and your hand just slide up and down and up and down, the sloppy sound filling the entire space and adding onto his arousal. Cum was slipping in between your fingers, all down to his balls-- shit, he really did make a mess.

It was nasty but... he liked it that way.

"P-Princess, fuuck, please," His voice was cracking, breaking because of you, eyes tearing up as your hand only got faster and faster, "Fuck fuck, please d-don't stop." He pants out, head flying back against the couch as his thighs closed and opened, almost like he wanted it all to end and yet continue at the same time.

Watching him had your body hot, there was a pulse coming from in between your legs and you had half the urge to get down on your knees and just suck him off since he was being so damn whiney.

But at the same time, you couldn't stop your hand. Not when he was about to cum again, not when you were about to drag the sound you were looking for out of him.

"Y'like that, Cho?" Such a simple question you murmured to him and yet it broke him.

Nodding all needily and fucked out, "Yes baby, yesyesyes," He gasps, abs tensing as your hand just would stop. You wouldn't let up on him for even a second and it was killing him, "F-Fuck I like it s'much-, I like you- love you," He corrects, struggling and stumbling over all his words, "Love your fuckin' hand-"

His jaw drops and the groan that leaves him comes from deep within his throat, "Ohmygoddd, fuck," Oh he was babbling for you, thoughts whirling, voice cracking and high pitched with you.

Then his lips quivered and that's when that noice came out. Such a cute, whiney, and filthily obscene whimper slipped out of his mouth, eyes at the back of his damn skull as he came all over your hand again.

And you had the nerve to talk him through it, whispering sweet, "That's it baby," To him and making him pant and his breathing stutter, your hand still going.

Choso couldn't formulate proper sentences with you anymore, barely chanting an almost silent I love you over and over until your hand stopped and his dick finally calmed down.

★ Ino Takuma

Is this even surprising?

Of course your cute boyfriend Ino is sensitive and affectionate starved. Sometimes he tries to act like your touch doesn't faze him but the very second it leaves him, he's giving you these doe-eyes and moving to put your hand back on him.

And it's just perfect for him that you enjoy touching him a lot. You're almost always hugging him or grabbing his face to pull him in for a kiss and he loves it.

So whenever you're away for a few hours, his body aches for you. You'd have your nails done too so that was something he enjoyed feeling more than ever, loving how your fingernails would run through his hair as he laid on your thighs or even in between them, face stuffed into your cunt.

Either way, Ino loved your touches and yes he craves it when you're not around.

So whenever the two of you do meet up, you're always running up to him, throwing your arms up and around his neck, laughing and smiling about how much you missed him.

Then you'd always tug that beanie off of his head, telling him how much you enjoy it when his hair is out and teasing him about looking silly with the accessory on.

He'd shrug off your comment and then as soon as you turn away from him, his arms are draping around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder and crotch pressing into your ass.

Your body would freeze in place as you feel something familiarly hard poking at your ass, turning your head to your boyfriend who you've barely even touched so far and raising a brow at him, "Takuma..." You'd utter softly, earning a grin from him.

"Hm? Somethin' wrong?" He'd ask casually, as if there's not a painful boner in his pants all because you'd hugged him.

"You tell me," You tease, moving out of his hold and turning your body around to face your boyfriend as you cross your arms.

He quickly raises a hand to the back of his neck to scratch, chuckling nervously, "I'm not sure what y'want me to say?" He hums plauyfully.

You tilt your head and him and sigh before moving to point at his crotch, "How about you start with explaining that."

Ino's head drops to look at where you're pointing to, laughing as soon as he sees himself, "Oh, that. Yeah, no, that's uh, that's nothing, really-," His head lifts and you've gotten all close to him again, head angled upward slightly to meet his gaze and your stare making him swallow all his words down with a loud gulp.

Your hand then moves in almost slow motion and you place but a single finger to his chin, tipping his face down some more to get a good look at him and then smiling. "Y'know you can ask me to help you, right? I am your girlfriend, remember?" You whisper.

He starts nodding like he's hanging off of your words, eyes set on your lips and his breathing picked up just because you've got a finger on his chin. "M-Mhm, I uh," He blinks a few times to gather himself, "I know."

You smile and step even closer, your body just barely touching his, "Takuma," You whisper yet again, causing a shiver to slip down his spine.

He was so nervous because of you, "Lover," He hums back.

A chuckle slips past you, "Lover? That's cute."

"Y'like that one? I've been brainstormin' pet names recently," Ino tells you happily, his voice soft with you due to the lack of distance between you and him.

"Yeah, that one's cute," You whisper as your lips near his, "But uh, we're not just gonna skip past this," You emphasize as your hand palms at his erection, making his breath hitch.

Ino's brows tense and so does the rest of his body, "Y'gonna take care of it, baby?" He whispers to you, eyes softening at you as you peer up at him so tentatively.

"You want me to?" You utter back, batting your eyes at him and feeling on his cock through his clothing.

"Yeah," Ino nods out, to which you give him this look and he swallows, quick to correct himself, "Yes... please."

Smiling, "How do you want me to take care of it, hm? On my knees? With my hand?"

Ino barely knows how to even answer your question, it always makes him nervous when you take the lead, not that it doesn't happen often but most times anything sexual between you two just occurs mutually.

There's not always someone in the lead and it's usually just the two of you trying to make the other feel good. Which is enjoyable of course but when you're like this? Asking him what he wants and yet telling him what you're going to do through your gaze?

Oh he's almost the one on his knees for you.

Which is how you ended up later sitting behind your boyfriend, head peering over his shoulder and arms wrapped around him so that your pretty hands could work up and down his cock.

He hardly remembers how he got into this position with you or what he said for you to even want to do this but, here he was; face red, moans pouring out, hips bucking up into your touch, eyes lidded and struggling to keep up with watching the way your two hands groped and jerked at his cock perfectly.

Your fingers and his dick glistened with spit and precum, the sounds of you giving him the best handjob he could ever have asked for loud throughout the room.

"Oh baby," Ino whines out, eyes nearly shut as he tries his hardest not to squirm too much, "That feels so fuckin' good, holy shit."

"Yeah?" You smile, "My hands feel good?" The taunting behind your words made his cock throb in your hands, slim veins bulging against your palms and making you snicker.

Ino nods his head needly, "M-Mhmm, fuck-," He gasps, voice lagging behind as he tries his best to answer you properly.

You start kissing the side of his neck and he swears his head is spinning. He doesn't even know what to focus on at this point. Your hands on his cock? Your lips on the side of his neck? Your breasts pressed into his back?

It was all too much for him, making his knees bend just for his legs to extend out seconds later, his mouth just open with moans of your name and not-so-silent whines slipping out. Did he want it to go on forever or stop as soon as possible?

Fuck, and then there was you heavy breathing against him, almost as if you were aroused by this too-

Holy shit you were. You were probably soaked just because you're busy getting your boyfriend off using those pretty hands of yours. Ino's on cloud nine just thinking about how wet your cunt probably is, his moans getting louder and louder as second pass.

Up until he can't take it anymore and he moans your name, "B-Baby, fuck, needa' feel you, please."

"Hm?" You giggle softly, though it's noticeably more breathy than usual, "You are feelin' me though?" You point out as your hands tighten around his cock.

Ino's head rests back a bit and he pants, babbling out his desperations more clearly for you, "No baby, your pussy, come put it on me, please." He huffs out.

You cunt twitches at his words and you whisper his name, "Takuma...."

"Please?" Your boyfriend begs, gulping afterward to catch his breath for a moment, "J-Just... oh fuck, let me feel you, taste you, fuck you, anything baby, please?"

"Shit, okay, okay," Is the last thing you say before you too folded under pressure and moved.

Then you were on top of him, his eyes glossy as he watched you above him. Neither of you are sure which was more stimulating, you jerking him off or what you're doing now.

Which was rubbing nothing more than his tip against your slick hole, dragging him back and forth and back and forth in between your sopping folds. His tip was glazed in your arousal and his own, both of you moaning softly at the tease of it all.

It was somehow almost better than sex itself. You liked teasing him like this and he loved being teased. Ino was in a daze, trying his hardest not to cum at the sight of you forcing his needy cock against your pussy.

Your cunt looked so fucking delicious, so wet, so warm, he wanted to be inside you so bad and that's what was arousing him right now-- the temptation to just thrust his hips up into you and finally sink his inches deep inside you.

There was a light wet and sloppy sound that followed your languid movements, his cock slipping inside of you every now and then and making you practically start drooling for it.

It was taking everything in you not to just plop down and start bouncing on his cock like you normally would but when you looked at Ino's face and saw him panting and quietly whimpering-- you knew he was about to cum and you didn't want to stop.

Rocking your pussy over his tip over and over and over and over again until he was struggling to gasp for air, hissing out a cry of your name over and over, trying to warn you.

But instead of stopping, you whine, "C'mon, cum f'me," And then he is, and his cock is leaking in cum before he can even comprehend it, never realizing how sensitive his body was to you until now.

You always kinda knew he was sensitive and sure, you rubbing his cock against your pussy was pleasurable but it really surprised you how much he came from the action.

Smirking as he comes down from his high, you then lean to him and kiss him before whispering, "Good boy," To which his jaw drops a bit and you're angling his cock to slip inside you, "Now, hurry up 'nd please your girlfriend," You huff out.

And he's nodding without a second thought, "Yes ma'am-, fuck, whatever you want, pretty girl."

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nottsangel · 2 months

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cockwarming w rafe but he gives in before reader does?

“just sit still, a’ight? don’t wanna get you all needy f’me right away.“ rafe winks at you, holding your hips firmly to prevent you from moving, seeing who can stay still the longest. you feel so fucking tight around him— the way you’re squeezing him could make him cum instantly, but his ego forces him to put on his best poker face while his blue eyes stare at you intensely.

“you talking to yourself, pretty boy?” you taunt, making him chuckle at your confidence, accepting the challenge as he sits relaxed with you on his lap, knowing he’s going to win regardless. his hands move from your hips to behind his head as he leans backwards with the cockiest smile on his face, gazing up at you.

“i can feel you dripping down my legs, princess, making a fucking mess everywhere, shit.” rafe chuckles before slapping your ass, determined to get you to move first.

“yeah? imagine how good it would feel to thrust up into me right now, im so fucking wet for you.” you whisper the last part as you move your head closer to his ear, causing goosebumps to form all over his body as he feels your hot breath on his skin. he groans as you place soft kisses all over his neck, lightly sucking on his skin, knowing exactly where his sensitive spots are.

“i can feel you so fucking deep inside of me, rafe.” you murmur as you slowly lick from his collarbone to his ear while letting out breathy moans. “don’t… don’t say shit like that.”

he’s so close— so close to pounding into you right there and then. he gradually starts to lose control, his hands moving back to your hips, gripping the skin so firmly that it’s going to leave bruises for days. you continue teasing him, leaving love bites all over his neck and collarbone before gripping his jaw and kissing him passionately, tongues fighting for dominance as he moans into your mouth.

“fuck it.” rafe snaps, forcefully pulling you from his lap and bending you over on the couch, your head pushed into the cushions as he slips back inside of you in one quick thrust and sets an unrelenting pace right away. “i… i win.” you manage to say in between thrusts as he pounds into you, the tip of his cock continuously hitting your cervix. “yeah? we’ll see who’s winning when you can’t fucking walk tomorrow.”

#♡₊˚ for arina 🍒・₊#anon #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron concept #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you

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forlix · 19 days

Text

𝐝𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞・b.c.

— incurable playboy turned doting boyfriend was a character development arc nobody saw coming for christopher bang, including (especially) his frat brothers.

words・2.8k pairing・frat president!chris x gn!reader genres・fluff, humor, hurt/comfort, college!au, fuckboy!chris, boys being boys, kissing, implied sex so mdni warnings・substance use, talk of past heartbreak

a/n・here is "nobody believes you're dating" w/chan, requested by none other than my @rachalixie for my 2k event !! anny, i hope u love this fic as much as i love u; thank you for allowing me to write something so self-indulgent <3

In the deafening throes of one of Phi Mu Alpha’s spring kickbacks, Minho finds Jeongin and Seungmin standing in motionless silence by the kitchen counter. Both boys are gaping at something with an intensity that dips egregiously into the realm of creepy. He moves to pour himself a shot.

“What the fuck are you people looking at?”

Seungmin prods a pointer finger in the relevant direction. It takes a few seconds of scanning the scene for Minho to find what he’s referring to. He digs a knuckle into his eye, instantly confused by what he’s seeing. Maybe the gaping is justified.

The windows and doors have all been thrown open to invite the balmy April weather into the foyer of the frathouse. There’s a large crowd of people huddled around a long, foldable table stationed before the stairs; Jaehyun clutches a ping-pong ball between his fingers, singular eye squinted shut as he takes aim. The number of remaining solo cups dwindles rapidly, as does the players’ sobriety.

Something—someone—is missing.

Not to say “beer pong virtuoso” was one of the reasons Chris was elected frat president, but you’d think the guy had a career path in basketball with how he’s given the entire Greek life community alcohol poisoning by courtesy of two or three plastic balls alone. Minho has never known him to miss a shot, let alone miss out on a game.

Today, however, the reigning champion is only spectating, seated above the ongoing match on one of the steps of the main staircase.

A beautiful stranger is sitting beside him, cheek pressed to his shoulder as you peer at the match through the bannister.

You say something inaudible. The laugh it earns from Chris is bright enough to pick up from a few streets down. He leans in to murmur something in return, and you slide your hand over his nape to pull his mouth onto yours, light blush crawling up and over your ears. The way Chris melts into you can only be described as familiar, his eyes slowly fluttering shut, finger hooking delicately beneath your chin, grin going lopsided as your lips part—

“That’s enough,” Minho hisses, tearing his eyes away with considerable effort. “Aren’t you ashamed? Just fucking ogling.”

Jeongin shakes his head, grinning. “It’s dinner and a show. We’d be idiots not to.”

By dinner, he must mean the gallon of chocolate milk he’s been drinking from for the last hour. He now holds out said gallon with the intent to cheers. Seungmin picks up the entire handle and does the same.

Minho sighs, clinks his glass against theirs, and they throw back their respective refreshments in unison.

“Anywho.” Jeongin swipes the back of his hand over his mouth before going on. “You guys know who that is?”

Minho resurfaces with a wince, relishing in the bitter aftermath, then motions for Seungmin to give the bottle back straightaway. He arrived to the function late and he’s not nearly as drunk as he’d like to be.

Seungmin obliges Minho only after another heady swig. “No clue. Probably just another fling, no?”

“Mmm,” Jeongin hums in assent. “It’s Chris we’re talking about, after all.”

"Agreed. Case closed.”

There’s an air of finality in Seungmin’s voice—but Minho isn’t so sure.

Perhaps because he has never noticed that Chris had dimples until now; or because you fold so naturally into Chris' side after your kiss ends, head nuzzling against the crook of his neck and hand seeking out his to hold in your lap; or, most likely, because Chris' eyes seem to return to you when he looks at you, as if his gaze drifting anywhere else is but a momentary departure from where it really belongs. As if he comes home every time you come into his line of vision.

Whatever the reason, the idea coalesces in Minho’s mind, even as inebriation begins to fall over his cognitive faculties like a curtain, that the boys have got it wrong.

Jeongin utters his name, jolting him out of his trance. There’s another shot lifted halfway to Minho’s lips that hasn’t budged in minutes. “Whatcha thinking about?”

Minho looks at Jeongin first, Seungmin next, then back at Chris and his stunning companion. He’s not inclined to answer the question in full, but he can in truth. A coy smile crosses his face.

“Threesome?”

Jeongin laughs hard enough to collapse onto the kitchen island. Seungmin drags a hand down his face. “Come on, man.”

In the corner of his eye, you’ve gone back to kissing again, slow and sweet and secretive. Chris' gentle hold on your jaw shields you from view but fails to hide his lovesick smile. Dimly, Minho thinks that maybe his friend has met his match.

Then, he takes four shots in rapid succession—and stops thinking altogether.

Christopher Bang’s love life is like a horror movie and romcom spliced together: a fiasco of a film to which his housemates have front row seats.

The frat’s upperclassmen live in sets of four-bed, two-bath suites comprising a small common space with a kitchen and a sitting area, sandwiched by bedrooms on either side. It is in that common space that Changbin, Hyunjin, and Jisung often see or hear Chris stumbling home after a night out, entangled with a different attractive stranger every time—so often, in fact, that they’ve come to believe that he’s deathly allergic to anything bigger than a one-and-done hookup.

They can’t judge. In part because they’d be throwing stones from glass houses, but also because the man’s penchant for empty physicality is far from unfounded. His past self gave pieces of his heart to the wrong people, contracted first-degree burns from the guileless warmth he sought out. Now, his version of “intimacy” is less a connotation of closeness than it is a self-contradiction, for it should be impossible for so much distance to remain between two people in a single bed.

Chris hasn’t vocalized any of this. Nor have his housemates discussed it with each other. The knowledge simply exists in the air between the four of them like something akin to taboo, dipping in and out of acknowledgement depending on the circumstance.

This might be the circumstance of all time.

At around 11:40 A.M. on a Saturday, three doors in the suite open at once. Hyunjin and Changbin aren’t coincidence—the latter is coercing the former to go to the gym again—but they lift their eyes to the opposite side of the living room, and the slice of milk bread dangling from Hyunjin’s lips very nearly takes a fatal fall. Changbin manages to snatch it up with an extended hand.

Chris has just emerged from his room as well. Your silhouette follows close behind, your mouth stretching into a yawn as you massage the sleep from your eyes. You’re sporting a mesh green sweater identical to one Chris owns. They find Chris' accessories more interesting than his clothes, though: two hickeys peeking out from beneath his jaw and the base of his neck.

Chris sees Hyunjin and Changbin right away, and his expression goes utterly blank, not unlike their faces as they watch you close his door meticulously. You turn around and gasp.

The four of you stare at each other for what feels like multiple business days. At least, Hyunjin, Changbin, and Chris stare at each other; your eyes dart between the men on the other side of the room and the man next to you, silently pleading for him to say something. He does not for a long while.

Then, he lunges for one of the throw pillows on the couch and flings it at Hyunjin like a shot put. It ricochets off his chest and lands on the floor rather anticlimactically.

“Distraction!” Chris yells anyways, grabbing your hand and tearing towards the exit, wild grin on his face. “Go, go, go!”

Your raucous laughter lingers even after you’ve been hauled away, accompanied by an unintelligible, breathless shout of something along the lines of my toothbrush—and then the front door clicks shut, and there are two.

Changbin and Hyunjin lock eyes, struggling to process what just happened. Hyunjin is the first to move, wandering hesitantly into the bathroom that Chris and Jisung share. Nothing about the place looks out of the ordinary.

“Well, shit,” Hyunjin says out loud.

That is, aside from the two toothbrushes slotted in the holder on Chris' side of the counter.

Something moves in the bathroom window, catching his attention. Hyunjin looks over just in time to spot you and Chris dart out onto the lawn two floors below. Chris has his arm draped over your shoulders, yours wrapped around his waist. Your smile is discernible all the way from here, and Hyunjin sees a perfect mirror of it on his friend’s face when Chris glances at the frathouse over his shoulder.

Has he always had dimples?

Moments later, Changbin joins him in peering out the window. A high-pitched cackle erupts from the older boy’s lips. “Look at that idiot.”

Standing off to the left is a tiny, astonished Han Jisung, his arms full of groceries, jaw sitting squarely the grass and whites of his eyes on full display as he watches you and Chris stroll away.

Hyunjin laughs with his whole fucking body. Changbin whips out his phone and takes a picture.

When you finally breach the topic, it’s because you don’t think you can physically study for another minute—but also because, after multiple long months of fruitless sparring, your curiosity finally wins.

Your boyfriend is seated in your desk chair, feet kicked up onto your mattress with his laptop propped up on his thighs. His features have rearranged themselves into an expression of intense focus as he pores over his production homework. You can hear music blaring through his headphones from all the way here.

You uncross your legs from below you, scootch across your bed, and lift your hands to cradle his cheeks. He startles as if coming out of a trance, then begins to smile when he reads the words hi, Channie off your lips.

His headphones fall around his neck. He sets his laptop down onto your desk with a dull thunk. The next thing to drop is you when Chris seizes you by the waist and tackles you into the mattress. The somber atmosphere of your study session is shattered by your muted laughter and Chris pressing his lips to every inch of your exposed skin he can. He saves your mouth for last.

“Hey, beautiful,” he answers, but only after kissing the living daylights out of you, the syllables soft and silky with adoration. “Missed me?”

You drag your eyes from his brown irises with blown pupils to his sloping nose, from his disheveled dark locks to his cordate lips, so plush and warm against your own that you swear you still feel them there. You brush a hand over the back of his neck, your head now spinning so badly that you barely remember what you wanted to ask him.

“Always,” you say. “I was starting to feel jealous of your homework.”

He chuckles. “Shit, I’ll drop out of college right now, baby. Just say the word.”

“You’re perfect,” you hum.

“Says you,” he murmurs, nudging the tip of his nose against yours.

Your lips find each other’s again—needless to say, your study sessions aren’t known for their productivity. Some time passes before you come up for air. Even afterwards, Chris doesn’t let you go far, pulling you into his chest by the curve of your waist, nuzzling his cheek into your hairline. You only need to whisper for him to hear your question.

“Can I ask you something?”

“'Course,” he returns, and you’re close enough to sense him tighten with apprehension. “Everything okay?”

“Yes, don’t worry.” You print a kiss to the side of his neck for extra reassurance. “It’s just…I’ve been meaning to ask how your friends feel about me.”

He tightens with something else now: surprise, you’re guessing; you’re hoping. You hadn’t seriously considered that the answer could be negative, but it’s dawning on you now that the possibility of that isn’t zero.

“Where’s this coming from?” Chris inquires, his tone opaque.

You hesitate, mentally reviewing your interactions with your boyfriend’s social circle. Hyunjin and Jisung can’t make eye contact with you when they speak to you. Minho does nothing but make eye contact with you whether he’s speaking to you or not. Jeongin and Seungmin can maintain small talk for about ten seconds before they start looking like they’d rather be anywhere else. Changbin is the only one you’ve held a conversation with, and only because you were going up the same stairs at the same time and the alternative would have been mind-numbing silence.

What is the best way for you to say this?

“Well,” you begin, “I can’t help but notice that they act a little—when I’m around, they’re a bit, uh—”

“—crazy,” Chris offers. “Completely fucking bat-shit crazy.”

“Yes. Exactly that.”

Chris threads a hand through your hair, the comforting gesture doing nothing to assuage your worry. It seems there’s some truth behind your impressions. Your next words are tinged with a quiet sadness.

“I’m not imagining things, then?”

“No, angel,” he sighs. “But not for the reasons you think.”

A beat passes. Chris perceives your silence as a chance to backtrack, to opt out of this conversation if it’s one he’s not ready for. He would’ve leapt at the opportunity once.

But he realizes in that moment, with your voice gentle against his ears and your touch so doting upon his skin, how much has changed since he met you: from the color of the sky to the word home and everything in between, including his cynicism towards love and all the iterations of forever it holds.

With that epiphany comes another, then another: he wants you to know why his friends are acting insane, wants you to know about him and his past and all the wounds of his you never know you healed, wants you to spend the rest of this forever with him.

His pointer finger dusts beneath your chin, a wordless request for you to look at him, and he nearly liquifies when you do and he finds entire constellations in your eyes.

“It’s a lot,” he mumbles, though he suspects you know that already; he suspects you know about the other stuff, too.

You bring your hand to the side of his face, bring your forehead to rest upon his. Your closeness washes over him like a low summer tide lapping over sandy shores, a soothing balm spreading over scorched flesh.

“It’s you,” you breathe. “I will love it just the same.”

Chris' held breath comes out in shudders.

So this is warmth.

Minho and Felix are watching anime on the couch when a knock comes at their door, unfortunately during a pivotal moment of a pivotal episode.

Minho hits pause with a ghastly groan. Felix laughs and rises to his feet, dashing into his room to grab the two silver necklaces he’ll be loaning out for the evening. “Coming!”

Outside, Chris is standing alone, hips and thighs accentuated by a pair of tight-fitting dress pants, sculpted chest and collarbones framed by a thin, cream-colored shirt with the top three buttons undone. Most of his hair has been pushed off his forehead, leaving a few locks free to fall over his right eyebrow. He’s rolling up his sleeves when Felix opens the door, veined forearms flexing as a result of the effort.

“Well?” He asks. Minho cranes his neck to look past Felix.

Both boys start to holler and whistle like excited macaques.

“What in the Calvin Klein is this?” Felix shouts, spinning Chris around by the shoulders. “You look insane, bro. Holy fuck.”

“What’s the occasion, young man?” Minho inadvertently sounds like a gruff uncle. “Where are you going dressed like that, huh?”

Chris' laugh comes easier nowadays. What’s more, it comes in a way that reaches the rest of him, that ends in a tiny, high squeak that you really have to look for in order to hear.

Felix and Minho can't help but replicate his smile. Those clothes look good on him, yes—but happiness looks better.

“You guys are silly,” Chris giggles. Dimples indent his cheeks as he accepts the necklaces from Felix. “Thanks, man. I’ll give ‘em back tomorrow.”

“No rush,” Felix replies, grinning. “Have fun, yeah?”

“We will.” Chris starts to retreat down the hallway, hands moving to clasp the jewelry around his neck, but not before he blows the both of them a kiss.

“Be back before ten!” Minho hollers; Chris laughs again, turns a corner, and disappears.

Felix closes the door. His smile falters fast. Minho has brought his face mere centimeters away, his expression thoroughly humorless.

“Tell me only the truth, Lee Yongbok,” he deadpans.

“O-okay—”

“Is Chris in a relationship?”

“—oh.” Felix frowns. “Well, yeah.”

Minho blanches. “How—how long?”

“One year, give or take? Anniversary’s today.”

Minho is stunned. Felix is stunned that Minho is stunned.

3K notes · View notes

nanaslutt · 3 months

Text

Playing with Toji's nipples

cont: fem reader, established relationship, nipple play, edging, a wink of Sub!Toji, dirty talk, unprotected sex, cumming inside, teasing, rough sex

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Even now, after Toji had already accepted his fate, he was pouting. His massive back was pressed to your chest as you sat against the headboard behind him, your feet hooked over then under his thighs, keeping them spread slightly. Toji stared at the wall, his bottom lip slightly pouted out as he waited for you to make your move so this would all be over.

"Tojiiiii, what's the matter?" You ask teasingly, a big smile across your face as you grab his chin from behind and turn his head to look at you, tilting your head around his body to get a better look at him. Toji doesn't speak, just keeps the 'fate accepted' expression on his face. Your smile grows as you lean in and press your lips against his, making him release an annoyed grunt at the action. He knows you know how much he loves kissing, but he wants to keep his defiant facade up.

"Toji if you really hate the idea that much... we don't have to do it." You say, a bit dejectedly as your hand leaves his face to reach around his body and caress the skin of his abs, your fingers tracing the indents of the strong muscles. Toji shut his eyes and sighed, relishing the feeling of your warm hands on him. "It's your birthday princess. Said I would do what you wanted." He says, his expression softening.

Despite the act he was putting on, he didn't hate the idea of you playing with his nipples all that much, he just hated looking weak in front of anyone, and he knew better than anyone how weak his nipples made him. You pressed a kiss to his shoulder as Toji turned his head back around to watch your hands caress his abdomen. His cock was already half hard, and it was slowly getting harder the more you touched him.

You were sitting on some pillows to make yourself a little taller, that way you could actually see what you were doing over his bulky shoulders, but even then your view was a little obstructed. You had tried to introduce the idea of a mirror, but Toji had shut it down faster than you could even fully finish your proposal. The possibility of you seeing his debauched expressions during this sent shivers down his spine.

"You're so good to me Toji." You giggled, continuing to press little kisses on the expanse of his shoulders. "Oh trust me, I know." He responded cockily, shaking his head. Toji sucked a breath in through his teeth when your lips made contact with the nape of his neck. He sighed loudly, trying to keep his breathing steady when you focused your attention there, the kisses becoming harder, traveling higher up his nape, the short hairs on the back of his neck tickling your lips.

"Do you like it when I kiss you here?" You asked him quietly. Toji grimaced, "Don't use my words agaisnt me." He said, his eyes darting around the room. You smiled to yourself, knowing this was getting him worked up. You trailed your fingers down to the hem of his boxers, where his cock was now fully hard and straining agaisnt the fabric. Toji pressed his lips together, swallowing hard as he waited for you to breach the waistline of his boxers and pull his cock out, even though he knew you wouldn't.

"Don't tease me like that if you aren't gonna touch my cock." Toji said, feeling himself throb at the neglect. "Sorry Toji, if you cum without it I'll let you fuck my throat as a reward, kay?" You said, instantly making him feel better.

Tonight's proposition went like this. Toji promised you could do anything with him for your birthday, and of course, you chose to play with the one thing that was usually off-limits- his nipples. You told him you wanted to make him cum from nipple play alone. You knew he could do it, he was just too defiant to let you go anywhere near them. Only one time had you barely grazed your fingers across his nipples and he released the cutest sound, a sound too cute to come from such a big and scary man like Toji Fushiguro.

You so desperately wanted to hear it again. The desperate sound replayed over and over in your head almost every night as you went to bed. Toji reluctantly agreed after tons and tons of negotiation. Toji tried to steer you away from the idea and instead offered Shibari or blindfolded him, but you knew what you wanted and weren't going to give in for anything.

"Fuck..." Toji groaned, his cock twitching at the thought of getting to shove it down your throat when this was all over. If you had mentioned that compromise when you had first brought this proposal to light, maybe he would've been a little more receptive to the idea. "Whatever just... just do your shit," Toji said, his back muscles flexing against your chest as he leaned against you, getting comfortable. You tightened your legs over his thighs, your ankles pressed just under where his boxers ended, too close to his cock. The pressure from your ankles on his thigh alone was driving him crazy.

"Don't worry, I don't think this will take very long." You reassured teasingly, poking a jab at just how sensitive his chest really was. Toji watched with bated breath as your hands slowly started traveling up his body, away from his cock. A small patch of wetness had started to form where Toji's tip sat behind his boxers, his pre wetting the fabric all wet.

You felt his breath rise and fall quicker when you reached his chest. Toji was internally battling with himself. He couldn't decide if he wanted to watch your hands play with him, or if he needed to look away. Your hands groped the sides of his heavy chest and squished it inward, making it look like he had cleavage. The sight made you smile as you rested your chin on his shoulder, your head tipping against his. "So big..." you said, repressing a giggle.

"You think you're so funny, huh?" Toji said, licking his teeth. Though he sounded ticked off, he was grateful for the playfulness. He would never admit it out loud, but he was nervous. His skin was practically buzzing with it, so your actions now were helping him calm down. "I do actually." You replied, rubbing your head affectionately against his as you continued to massage his massive chest together, making sure to stay away from his nipples for the time being.

You kept massaging him for long enough until all the humor had died down and you just rested on his chest with a focused face, watching the way his chest moved under your ministrations. Toji was getting fidgety at this point, he would rather you touch his nipples already and make him cum than teasing him like this. Your fingers would get so close, but never close enough. He hated to admit it but he had started to crave feeling you there.

Toji tipped his head back against your shoulder, pushing his hips upwards against your legs hooked over his as he got more comfortable. "You okay?" You asked, gazing at the side of his handsome face. His eyes were focused on the ceiling as you spoke. "Just wondering when 'ur gonna do something," Toji said in a bored tone. If it wasn't for his massive boner creating such a large wet patch in his boxers, you would've really believed he was bored.

You smiled and pressed a kiss to the side of his face. "Can I take that as you want me to touch your nipples?" You said, gauging his response. You watched Toji's Adam's apple bob hard as he swallowed whatever saliva was left in his mouth. You hit the nail right on the head, but it was going to take a little more coaxing to get it out of Toji. "No." He said flatly, his eyes fluttering slightly.

You pouted and looked down to his chest before you released the fat of them and started slowly tracing your nails around his areolas, still not touching them, but a hair's length away from doing so. "No?" You repeated, looking back up at him. Toji was adamant about staring at the ceiling, not wanting you to see his expression falter.

Toji pressed his lips together again, his eyes falling shut for half a second longer than normal. If you weren't paying attention, you would've missed it. You kept up that motion, slowly circling his nipples before changing the direction, circling them the other way. Now, his breathing had picked up significantly and was much more noticeable and less suppressed than before.

"Toji..." You said softly, making a choked moan cut off in his throat. "You're dripping." You said, exposing the obvious. Toji dropped his head down from staring at the ceiling and found his cock with his eyes. His mouth dropped open ever so slightly, his arousal almost getting to the point of being too much to bear.

Your eyes never once left his face. You felt yourself throb between the legs watching how effective this type of teasing was at getting him so worked up. You'd never seen his face so flushed before, it was almost the color of his blushing chest. "Fuck..." Toji groaned, licking his teeth in annoyance. On one hand, he, really, reallllllyyy wanted you to touch his chest, but on the other hand, if he begged, you would never let him live it down.

Your words interrupted his internal dilemma. "Toji, just tell me you want it. I'm not asking you to be specific how you ask me to. Just tell me you need it... please." You begged, tipping your head against his again, trying to comfort him. Toji shut his eyes, his breath coming out stuttered and shaky each time you switched the direction of your fingers around his nipples.

With one last heavy sigh, he spoke. "N...need it." He said quietly, his entire face flushing a deep red as a look of displeasure spread across his features. A smile of satisfaction spread across your face, and you squeezed your thighs around his solid body a little harder, forcing his lower back to press against your cunt a little, giving you some relief.

"Good boy Toji," you said. You would absolutely be paying for talking to him like that later, but right now it didn't matter. Giving him no time to rebut, you finally dragged your fingertips to his nipples, raking them up and down, keeping the pressure light at first. Toji jolted forward hard, a sharp breath could be heard getting inhaled from the man in front of you. "Relax." You said, pressing against his abdomen and pulling him back against you before you brought your attention to his nipples again.

Toji's thighs flexed agaisnt your ankles, his cock twitching hard behind his briefs. You started up the circle motion again this time touching his actual nipples each time you went around. Toji's abs clenched each time you made a full circle, followed by loud gasps and choked groans. He was fighting it. "Toji you can let your voice out. It's hot." You told him before flicking his nipples up and down a little faster, increasing the pressure.

Toji shook his head, his teeth baring the open air as his face was screwed in what would appear to be a pained expression, only he was feeling far from pain right now. "I won't tease you Toji, promise." You said, increasing the pressure once more, virtually giving him no room to fight against it. Toji's hair tickled your skin as his head jerked back and forth against you, his body trying to deal with experiencing such pleasure.

You wet so wet, you didn't know how much more of this you could take. His foreign expressions and reactions were turning you on more than you thought they would. When Toji's teeth separated and his jaw fell open, the first noise that fell out of his mouth was just like the same one you heard all those months ago. "F-fuck!!" Toji groaned, his moans and whines falling freely from his lips now.

Your eyebrows were furrowed in pleasure as you watched him, he looked so hot. "God, it feels good huh?" You asked, not being able to contain your own little noises, only spurring him on. Toji felt mortified, but the pleasure he was feeling helped negate some of that embarrassment. He nodded, before his face scrunched in pleasure, his teeth occasionally baring into the room when you touched his nipples particularly harshly.

"Goddd.... C-cum, g-gonna cum." Toji groaned, doing his best to keep the whines and whimpers down. You stopped when you heard him say that, a lightbulb going off in your head. Toji breathed heavily into the air, his body relaxing against you now that you'd stopped, save for his cock which was twitching with the need for release. "What the fuck... is your problem?" Toji complained, anger seeping into his brain now that you had taken his orgasm away from him.

"Just hold on, think you'll like this a lot better," you said ambiguously, patting your palms over his pecs before you slid out from behind him. Toji looked at you with furrowed brows as you slung your legs over his lap, just under his cock, and pulled down his boxers. His eyes fluttered as his cock was released from the confines of the annoying fabric.

It slapped loudly against his abdomen, his length completely wet with his pre-cum and still dribbling agaisnt his skin. "Though you weren't touchin' my cock?" Toji asked, his voice coming out more desperate and airy than he would've liked. Stradling his cock, you grabbed it with one hand, making him wince, before you reached down and pulled your panties to the side, looking back up at him. "I changed my mind."

Toji watched with wide eyes as you lined his cock up with your entrance. His hands shot out to grab your waist for stability, his hands shaky as they touched you. Toji released a long groan when you slid down on his cock, the stretch made easier thanks to how wet the both of you were. "Holy fuuuuuck, ohmygod you're so fucking warm." Toji groaned, his head tipping back against the headboard now that you weren't behind him.

You released some of your own noises as he split you open, his cock filling you so nicely, just how you wanted. Toji knew he wasn't going to last long like this, but little did he know that's why you did this. Before you were even halfway down on his cock, you reached out for his chest and pinched his nipples harshly, rubbing them between your fingers.

Toji's eyes shot open, his legs curling in on himself as his body jerked, forcing his cock fully inside of you. "F-fuck fuck, w-what are you doing?" Toji asked, panic in his tone as he looked down at you tweaking his nipples. You felt his cock kick against your walls, already ready to spill his seed again. "Though you would like it if I milked your orgasm out of you while I play with your chest." You said smiling, doing your best to keep your words coherent, and even despite how badly you wanted to whine and cry like you normally did on his cock.

Toji groaned at your words as you started bouncing up and down, his cock jamming against your g-spot with every thrust. "F-u-uu-uuck-" He groaned, his body falling limply agaisnt the sheets as you rode him. His jaw went slack and his eyes rolled back repeatedly in his head each time you jumped up and down on him. "G-onna cumm, gonna cum, g-gonna cum-" Toji repeated, his hips weakly fucking up into yours as your fingers raked up and down on his nipples, your nails catching them and making his abs clench each time.

"I know baby I know, can feel you twitchin'. Cum inside me Toji, let it out I got you." You sounded like him when you were cumming, it would've made you giggle if you weren't so enthralled with Toji's actions right now. Usually, when he came, his teeth were pressed firmly together and he let out loud, deep grunts. Now though, his mouth was open, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes fluttered in his head as he was worked up to his orgasm.

Toji was gripping you so hard, you knew instantly you were going to have dark bruises there in the morning. Toji's legs started to spread, and his back arched ever so slightly as you went back to pinching his nipples, rocking back and forth on his cock as you bounced up and down, trying to give him as much stimulation as possible.

"A-ahhh a-ah fuuuuuck- f-ah-" Toji came with a high-pitched whine before his noises turned into groans and grunts as his cock twitched and sprayed his thick cum out inside you. "Keep fillin' me up Toji, feels so g-good fuck." You whined, feeling hot all over as you worked him through his orgasm, your tight walls milking his cock.

His balls throbbed with his release, his seed getting fucked so deep inside you thanks to the angle. His orgasm seemed to last longer than normal, probably thanks to your fingers on his chest. His abs spasmed and jerked inward with his high, his head shaking back and forth against the sheets. "St-hahhh." Toji tried to tell you to stop when he felt you fucking him into overstimulation, but his words failed to find him.

Immediately you stopped, keeping his cock snug inside your walls as you finally ceased your attack on his chest. Leaning forward you grabbed his face with your hands, cradling him as you started pressing kisses all over his cheeks, eyelids, forehead, anywhere your lips could reach.

"Toji, thank you Toji, thank you thank you thank youuuu." You repeated softly between kisses. Toji was still basking in the aftershocks of his orgasm, his arms leaving your hips to wrap tightly around your body, keeping you flush against him. "Are you okay? Wasn't too much right?" You asked, pulling back to look at his face. Toji's eyes were glossy and all out of focus, and his face was flushed red and dripping with sweat, and still, he had the audacity to look at you and say, "I'm fine. I'm not a baby like you."

You jerked your head back in surprise, your jaw falling open at his words. You just fucked him dumb and he still had the energy to be a bitch? Tsking at him you gripped his cheeks, making his lips pursed together like a fish as you shook his head back and forth. "You sure sounded like one a minute ago." You spat back, squinting your eyes at him.

You swear you saw Toji's eye twitch before your head was pressed harshly into the crook of his neck, his large hand firmly on the back of your head. "Bitch. Said you wouldn't bring that shit up." Toji pouted, feeling his face heat up at your words. You snorted before biting his neck teasingly, feeling his body harden underneath you at the action.

"You lie all the time, I can do it too." You said, wrapping your arms around his neck. Toji shook his head, feeling himself soften inside your walls. He knew you said you would let him throatfuck you after this, but honestly, Toji didn't know if he had anything left to give you. He was sure you had taken every last drop of his cum from his balls just moments ago.

"Brat. Happy birthday, hope you enjoyed yourself." Toji said, closing his eyes as he released his hand from your head, wrapping his arms around you once more. "I did, I did very much." You answered, feeling extremely satisfied and content when Toji sighed loudly at your words, his breath tickling the back of your neck.

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bookishdreamer28 · 4 months

Text

Height difference

I hope you'll like it 👐

Mattheo is obsessed with the way his body is towering over yours. He has found himself thinking of how you'd perfectly fit in his arms many times and he can't help but feel his whole body getting hot at the very thought. From the very first moment Theodore introduced you to their group, he was instantly besotted. He was entirely mesmerized by you.

Every time you wanted to grab something that was out of your reach, he was standing closely behind you just to help you, but in reality all he wanted was to feel your small frame against his. And when you look up at him all puppy-eyed, with those eyes, he knew he was down bad already. And he knew he had fallen deeply for you.

He loved teasing you cause your reactions to his teasing were absolutely worthwhile. Seeing your flustered face was something he adored.

"How you're doing shorty?" He said in his baritone voice and it took everything in you not to punch the smugness off of his face.

"Stop calling me shorty" you tried look mad and scary with your angry expression but Mattheo wanted to just grab your face and kiss the shit out of you.

"Ok then how about...pixie-"

"NO!" You exclaimed and walked away from him, not being able to stay any longer around his presence but one thing you didn't notice, was Mattheo laughing quietly behind you because he found your walk absolutely adorable.

When he gets to hug you, that's when he feels like his heart will burst out. It's the way you snuggle your head in his chest, the way your arms are wrapped around his waist, and the warmth that instantly engulfing him when he feels your heart beating against him. Everything about this feeling is perfect. You just fitted perfectly.

His most fave thing about your height difference, is when you tip toe every time you want to kiss him. He's just standing there, the corner of his lips curving upwards displaying a cheeky smile on his face as he watches you struggling while you're trying to give him a kiss.

"You know you can lean down a bit right? I can't do all the work here" you frowned as you looked up at him. He pinched you cheek softly and traced his thumb in soft circles there.

"Yeah but you have no idea how adorable you l- ouch!" You slapped his hand.

"Now, don't make me bend your head down here by force"

"I would gladly let you love" he chuckled and you smirked as you placed your forehead on your palm, sighing.

"Enough with the teasing Riddle, now kiss me" you looked up again, waiting for his lips to finally crush on yours. He felt his heart pounding like crazy against his chest.

He laughed and instead of leaning his head down, he crouched down and scooped you up into his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist and he placed one hand under your thigh and the other around your waist. Kissing you was earth-shattering. The fieeling of your soft lips locking with his, was something he has been craving for so long.

Once you pulled away, you expected him to put you down but he still held you tight against him.

"Will you put me down now?" You tried to fight back a smile as you felt his hold becoming a bit tighter, his locked on you the whole time.

"Nope, I love having you like this love" he murmured against your lips and you giggled as you once again captured your lips together in a kiss which caused your eyes to flutter close and enjoy the feeling.

Thank you for reading!!

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anantaru · 4 months

Text

— cute things they do unintentionally

including wriothesley, zhongli, neuvillette, diluc x gn! reader

꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff, established relationship, neck kisses, lots of physical affection

— wriothesley + always walks closest to the street

in the early stages of your relationship, wriothesley has shown the first, out of the many following, indications of his overall protective nature towards you— and do not misunderstand him, because obviously he wasn't making it somewhat overbearing.

he knows you are capable of doing things on your own, but he wants to be the one who does them for you instead. it fills him with joy, and the duke finds himself squeezing his eyes shut, indulging in the memories and thoughts and hope that they would never cease to invade his newfound paradise.

so to speak, it's sort of a way to show you his love in a contrasting kind of sense other than telling you his affection through words or physical touch— with his heart-melting gestures and tender warmth, wriothesley will stop to walk for a split second before softly pulling you farthest from the street as he walks closest.

it was silly— and romantic, and there's a drop of silence before you hear him hum in merriment, his eyes sparkling like the stars.

full of feeling, your cheeks were poignant of a flaming prickle, your whole body burned like fire at his touch as you eagerly listen to what story your boyfriend was telling you about, his smile bringing you the most lustrous light when you entangle your fingers into his arm to press his frame against you.

and suddenly, your lips are tingling with the desire to kiss him, his lips as pink as pink delights. what's the sweetest part about it all was that wriothesley wasn't doing any of this intentionally— in fact, it had always come down to the way he has been all of his life, protective and sheltering, benevolent to the people closest to his heart.

— zhongli + kisses your forehead whenever you meet

"hello, my love," zhongli's face lights up the moment he sees you, and it's a lot more personal by how particularly he smiled at you— because before catching your frame in midst the busy streets of liyue, his facial features were stern and a little frozen, although when he finally finds you, he smiles and it takes away his cold instantly, a slow upturn of his mouth revealing small dimples around his sides.

"i missed you," he admits, and zhongli moves closer before capturing your cheeks in his warm palms, planting a subtle kiss on your forehead as he presses you against his chest firmly— his golden eyes bright enough to make even broken glass glow and shimmer like a treasure on its own again.

you mumble out through a chain of muffled words at the slightly tight embrace of your boyfriend, "i missed you too," and listlessly wrap your arms around his waist, "in fact, i missed you more," you tease as he presses dozen of little kisses on your head.

as much as zhongli would love to hug you for what he sought out to be eternity, he knows he cannot remain like this forever, at least not while being crowded by the people of liyue— although pondering about it more deeply, he figured that theoretically speaking, he could be able to hug you from day to night without letting you go, but people might start looking at you both so that'll be a negative and turn things uncomfortable.

"you know it's impossible for you to miss me more?" he slowly pulls you off his chest before pinching your cheek, "i long for you day and night," as his grin shines in tandem with the dancing joy of his eyes, unable to tear their focus away from you.

— neuvillette + can't stop worshipping you

after a long, arduous day consisting of responsibilities, you plopped onto the giant, comfortable bed you shared with neuvillette before you felt the mattress slightly dip under the added weight of his body as he climbs over to lean one arm around your frame.

as he does this, his face instantly burns into the nook of your neck before he begins to caress it— obviously in those moments he was content with you, starting with a handful of soft, warm kisses until he could feel you smile, or notice your body heat raise.

it's pretty clear his senses were sharp, you cannot hide anything from your boyfriend, even if you tried.

you yawn out, opening your arms for his body to properly nestle in before wrapping your limbs around his frame to keep him close, "what did i do to deserve this?" you whisper sarcastically, squeezing him a little tighter into you, "is something the matter?"

neuvillette hums deeply before smothering one hand from your chest to your hips, his lips stretching into a lazy smile, creating a swirling haven on his handsome face, "nothing at all, everything is fine," he assures you with another kiss, his hot breath fanning over the dampened skin on your neck.

basking into the comfortable engage of your arms around his frame, he continues, "i have simply missed what's mine, that is all,"

"and you deserve this," you hear him mumble, "each and every day to be admired and loved,"

he places a kiss on your shoulder, the softness of his lips compelling, "i want to give you this," as he slowly continues to slide his lips over your collarbone, full of passionate crescendos.

your skin trembles and goosebumps arise on your neck as you unwind to his skilled. tender interludes, precisely in neuvillette taking care of you, shooting you a gentle smile before he searches for your lips next.

— diluc + likes to hold your hand all the time

it doesn't matter where the both of you were or what activity you participated in, because for neither diluc nor you this was something out of the ordinary anymore and began to become a necessity— like breathing, he required your touch, and his heart fluttered every time he felt your energy invade his.

your laugh was his favorite sound and your voice was the last tune he needed to hear before he'd close his eyes, always awaiting the flicker of longing in your caress.

but before you have found each other in this relationship, the master of the dawn winery has never considered himself to be an overly touchy individual, in fact, he was everything else but pleased whenever someone would become way too comfortable with him and overstep any boundaries.

what's funny about love is that how fast it can change things in someone— beyond looks, touches or shared smiles, there were feelings that only you two were able to understand.

diluc hadn't realized how easy and effortless it can be the moment you meet your soulmate, it's transparent and pure and you cannot get enough of them, it's useless to even try and you want to feel them again and again, until their warmth swathes through your skin and intertwines like dancers in a ballet.

in the beginning, it had started with quick and easy placements of his palm on your back or around your shoulders, but after a while, diluc wanted to turn it a little more intimate— he didn't say anything or mention it to you, but one day at a silent night in mondstadt, when he looked at you, really looked at you, he held your hand, his thumb tracing your knuckles in a silent confession of love and affirmation.

to diluc ragnvindr, the act of falling in love was the acknowledgement that he was in the presence of someone so special that it aches his heart, a journey with unexpected twists and turns— for the first time and in that moment, he knew that you were deserving of love to the fullest, without holding back.

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tender-rosiey · 5 months

Note

how would modern day sukuna be like a father? :o

nerves — ryomen sukuna x f!reader

a/n: no curses au, lovelies! thank you for being so patient MWUAH and of course, merry christmas to everyone who celebrates it!

when one thinks of sukuna, one thinks of a broad muscular man covered in tattoos with a sharp jawline and an even sharper tongue punching the hell out of anyone.

you never think of the same man carrying a pink glittery bag and his own little pretty princess.

“do you have your lunch box?”

“yup!”

he quirks an eyebrow, “you sure?”

your daughter nods excitedly before looking over her dad’s shoulder. she grins when she finally sees you and excitedly calls you over, “mama! ‘morning!”

a smile instantly appears you on your face as you make your way towards your little sweetheart, “good morning, baby!”

you take her into your arms—ignoring your husband—and you kiss her cheek, “you excited for your first day of school?”

“mhm!” she gasped suddenly, “mama, look at my hair! papa made it for me!” she giggles, proudly showing off her ponytail.

you look with a knowing look and a small smile at your husband.

sukuna frowns and looks away, “it was easy anyway,” he then glares at you, “don’t make a big deal out of it.”

you giggle and pad your way towards him, resting your arm on his shoulder and gently kissing his lips, “it’s a really cute deal, though.”

you lightly bounce your daughter in your other arm, “right, d/n?”

“yeah! papa is the best!” she cheers, hugging him tightly.

your husband groans, but—nonetheless—his arms are wrapped around you two, “you two are such drama queens.”

he leans slightly, mouth near your ear as he whispers, “you better give me a proper fucking kiss when we drop the brat off.”

you gasp lightly and smack his shoulder, “watch your language!” you watch him scrunch his face—most likely about to sass you—so you press a quick kiss to your daughter’s cheek then your husband’s.

you then push them through the door with a nervous smile, “okay, bye! have a great time and don’t forget that mama loves you!”

“I love you too, mama!”

of course, you would’ve loved to accompany your daughter to school, especially on her first day, but the darn office just happened to call for you right now.

sukuna knows that, and so does your cute daughter, so there is a reason why they were both so reluctant to leave.

anyway, back to the present.

your husband’s frown is still evident as he is robbed yet again from a ‘proper’ kiss. he picks your daughter up easily and then throws her in the car.

she, as always, finds it funny and starts laughing her little butt off. sukuna rolls his eyes, and gets into the car himself.

he puts on the playlist that your daughter made herself, and finally starts the car. the ride is quiet, if you don’t count the singing and screaming of your daughter.

of course, sukuna can’t do anything about it—even if he knows that he doesn’t want her to stop in the first place.

the school isn’t that far away anyway, so they reach it in no time. your husband skilfully parks in front of the gate and takes his seatbelt off.

he doesn’t hear hurried unbuckling of a belt or nonstop squealing and fidgeting, so he looks at his daughter, “what’s up?”

she fidgets with the hem of her shirt then speaks up, softly, “I am—scared.”

he furrows his eyebrow, turning his entire body towards her, “huh? why? you were so excited with your mom earlier and you were screaming my ear off about it yesterday.”

“I know,” she murmurs then frowns, “…but what if people don’t like me?”

sukuna is stunned for a moment. he isn’t the one to normally deal with your daughter whenever she needed deep or meaningful emotional advice.

that was what you did, especially since you are able to read your daughter pretty well.

but he tries his best cause he would be damned if he isn’t the best father. his hand is placed on her head, albeit a bit roughly.

she whines, “papa, my hair!”

he takes a moment, “I…” he starts then quietens down for a second, and even then, you’re daughter is looking intently at him.

he then looks at her again, “they will love you. you’re a good kid."

your daughter’s eyes widen at her dad’s unfiltered compliment. she beams, quickly unbuckling her belt and throwing herself into his arms.

her smile is so wide it almost hurts her, but her heart feels so full because of her dad’s praise that she couldn’t care about anything other than him.

he slowly starts patting her head, “and if someone bothers you, I will just beat them up.”

“mama said no violence!” your daughter scolds and almost on cue, your face appears on the screen: you’re calling!

looks like you managed to squeeze in some time to check up on her. your daughter swiftly presses on answer and chirps, “hi mama!”

“hi baby! why are you not in school yet?” you question, eyes darting towards your husband, questioning.

“papa wanted to get some food first, so we just arrived!”

sukuna is—internally—flabbergasted. this liar. he is about to interject, but then he ponders about it for a moment: maybe she doesn’t want you to see her hesitant about the whole school thing.

maybe she wants to appear strong—with no weak points—in front of her mother. then he breathes out a chuckle, at least she takes after him in something.

“sukuna! she could’ve been late!” you huff then sigh, “good thing that you guys moved early anyway.”

your eyes then focus on your daughter, “how’re you feeling?”

“excited!”

“any nerves or anything?” you ask knowingly, but she shakes her head.

she hugs sukuna tighter, “I was a little nervous, but papa made me feel better!”

you grin, “did he now?”

he notices the teasing glint behind your eyes and looks away to avoid your gaze. your daughter giggles at her dad’s behaviour, and so do you.

and your husband has never felt more teamed up on than now. she hears the bell rings, “oh! I gotta go now!”

“bye papa!” she kisses her dad’s cheek, “bye mama!” then kisses the phone’s screen. you blow her a kiss back, and she dashes out of the car, ready to start her day.

even while walking towards the building, she turns again to her dad and waves at him happily.

sukuna nods and she grins, switching her focus back on the school. his focus is on her intently, until you speak up, “I am proud of you.”

his gaze snaps to you, expecting a teasing smirk, but instead you’re smiling warmly at him. his heart contracts in a way that makes him feel weird, and he can’t find it in him to give you a snarky reply.

he groans, “she is my daughter as much as she is yours, y’know.”

you hum, “of course, she is,” he hears rustling on the other line, so he assumes you’re checking some papers before turning to him again, “she takes after you in more ways than one.”

“yeah, I noticed,” he says quietly, and you laugh.

he notices from the corner of his eyes his daughter laughing excitedly with a bunch of others girls, and he lets out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding.

you tap on your desk a little, “you nervous?”

“if someone hurts her, I will kill them.”

“I figured."

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do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

#sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna ryomen x you #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk x y/n #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #sukuna ryomen fluff #ryomen sukuna fluff

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navybrat817 · 6 months

Note

I wish I had a smitten Bucky. Just sees me and wants me. 🥺

I know the feeling, nonnie.

Check Yes or No

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky instantly falls for you, but waits to ask you out.

Word Count: Over 2.1k

Warnings: Fluff, could be seen as instalove on Bucky's side, attraction, slight insecurities, minor time jump, Alpine being the best, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I can't send Bucky your way, lovelies, so I hope you enjoy this short, surprise fic! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky wasn't looking for love the day he met you, but it found him anyway.

“Hey, Buck,” Steve greeted from his seat when he walked into the conference rooms and nodded to the spot beside him that you occupied. “I’d like you to meet our newest transfer. She’s also moving into the Tower.”

He was a changed man the moment your eyes met. Breathtaking was a word to describe you given how he had forgotten to breathe. He had witnessed many sunrises and sunsets in his life, a kaleidoscope of colors painted in the sky to both soothe and awaken the soul. They paled in comparison to the beauty before him.

One glance and he belonged to you completely.

“Hi, Bucky. It’s nice to meet you.”

While he wasn't sure if Heaven existed, you speaking his name was like hearing the voice of an angel.

“I’m Bucky.”

Of all the things he could've said, reiterating his name was what his mouth went with.

Instead of giving him a weird look or brushing him off when he scowled at himself, you smiled. “I look forward to us working together.”

Bucky couldn't tell you what the meeting was about that day, but he remembered the details about you. The way you leaned forward in your seat to pay extra attention when someone else spoke, also giving him an ample view of your chest before he reminded himself not to stare. The slight crease in your forehead when you jotted down an important note. And the soft giggle you let out when Steve cracked a joke.

He suddenly wished he was funnier.

“Have a good rest of the day, Bucky,” you said when the meeting ended.

Bucky didn't have to try to smile with you. It just came naturally. When you smiled back, it was easy to imagine what it would be like if you were his girl.

“You, too,” he replied, giving himself a mental victory for not screwing up his words this time. “Wait!”

You paused and looked at him expectantly. “Yeah?”

Bucky realized he had no reason to keep you from leaving. He just didn't want you to go. “Do you need help moving your stuff in?”

“I actually got my things moved in late last night, but thanks for the offer,” you replied, checking the time with wide eyes. “I'm so sorry. I have to go. I’m in 2L if you need anything!”

“Bye,” he called after you, turning in his chair to watch you go.

How did he miss you already?

Though Steve had a knowing look in his eyes, he graciously kept his mouth shut as he left the room. He reminded him an hour later that he wouldn't break any bylaws by asking you out. The punk somehow knew that you weren't seeing anyone.

Which made him happy.

While he appreciated Steve looking out for happiness, he still had to get his head on straight.

“Once I completely trust my own mind, maybe I will,” Bucky said, even though the stuff was already out of his head. He owed it to himself to take his time. And you.

Imagine his surprise when he found a note from you on his door the next day.

Hey, Bucky! Lunch on me today? Check YES or NO.

The lopsided grin on his face wouldn't go away when he read it again. You must've been interested in him enough to ask about him. How else did you know his apartment number? Why else would you ask him to lunch?

He nearly shouted “YES” in the hall before he came to his senses and simply checked the option before he returned the note to your apartment door.

When he met up with you later, he told himself it wasn't a date. It couldn't be, right? It didn't keep his heart from stopping when you answered your door. Dressed down and casual, you looked like an angel went to Earth just for him.

“Hey, Bucky,” you smiled. “Ready to go?”

He hadn't said much on the way to the cafe since he was too busy hanging on to your every word, but it was like he had known you for ages as you carried on the conversation. Your questions weren't invasive and you didn't seem to mind the occasional short answers. It was also the shortest meal of his life, over too soon for his liking, and he also refused to let you pay for his meal.

He wanted to show you that gentlemen still existed.

“Lunch again next week?” You offered.

“Sure,” he answered, his head spinning from giddiness.

But it wasn't a date.

It was time to change that.

Today was the day. Six months from the day he met you. Six months of chatting with you between missions and slowly getting to know you over weekly lunches. Six months of falling for you more and more each day and he finally worked up the courage to ask you out.

But falling was the easy part. Confessing was an entirely different story. He would either crash to the ground and hope his wounds would later heal or you’d catch him as he fell. No matter what, he wouldn't let his nerves get the better of him.

“Just like we practiced, okay?” Bucky asked.

“Meow.”

Alpine nuzzled her head against Bucky’s with a gentle purr when he huffed. She was his little partner-in-crime through and through. Like you, even though you didn't realize it, the little white ball of fur helped save him. He was fairly certain he wasn't supposed to bring her to this floor, but any reprimand would be worth it.

Besides, the Tower, office, anywhere they operated should allow them to have their pets with them, especially for emotional support.

“I'm counting on you,” he teased, placing the folded up piece of paper in her mouth. “Go.”

He peeked around the corner when he set Alpine down. The sun illuminated you from where you sat in the lounge, curled up in your normal spot on the sofa. You liked to relax there occasionally to read. He wondered what book you had with you today.

Thankfully, no one was around to disturb you.

Except for him.

“Alpine, is that you?” You asked when you looked up, closing the book as the cat approached you. While the feline was cautious of some, she warmed up to you immediately when you met and solidified that you were the one for him. “Whatcha got there? Where’s Bucky?”

His name spilling from your lips was still one of his favorite sounds.

He held his breath when Alpine jumped up beside you, opened her mouth, and dropped the paper in your lap. He immediately began to second guess himself when you unfolded it with a furrowed brow. Why did he think this was a good idea? Why didn't he just ask you like a normal guy?

To be fair, he hadn't been normal for some time.

“Will you go out with me? Check YES or NO. Love, Bucky,” you read out loud with a huge smile, which was enough to make his heart race. You giggled a moment later when Alpine bumped your hand, the soft noise making his stomach do a funny sort of flip. “Okay, okay. Let me get my pen out of my bag.”

Bucky exhaled a little as he moved to stand in the doorway. You didn't toss the paper away, so that had to be a good sign. He carefully kept himself from showing any outward emotion when you met his gaze, but his knees nearly gave out. His palms also began to sweat when you gave him a half smile.

Just when he thought you couldn't look more beautiful than you had the day before, you proved him wrong.

He ran a hand through his hair and hoped he looked halfway decent since he hadn't brushed it. But you commented a few weeks back that you liked it long when you saw an old photo, so he wanted to grow it out. He lost count of how many times he imagined your fingers in his hair

Maybe one day.

Watching you grab your pen, it was like he was drowning. The tide pulled him under as you made a mark on the sheet. His lungs burned when you handed it back to Alpine. He couldn't come up for air. He couldn't breathe.

Until you smiled again.

“Thanks, Alpine,” you said.

His cat gracefully walked back to Bucky and he swore he caught you trying not to giggle as she climbed up his leg. His heart hammered in his chest when he took the slip of paper from her mouth. Meeting your tender gaze, he couldn't bring himself to open it though.

After he told himself he wouldn't let his nerves get the better of him.

“Not going to see what my answer is?” You asked as he carried Alpine into the lounge.

“I want to,” he replied, sighing as he took a seat beside you. His cat was perfectly content to lay in his lap. “But I’m questioning if I did this the right way.”

The note you gave him for a simple lunch request may have been a small gesture in your eyes, but it meant the world to him. He thought by asking you out this way that he could give you something meaningful in return. Something that only the two of you shared.

That was all he wanted.

You turned toward him, your knee touching his. The small touch sent heat down his spine. “Open it and you’ll find out.”

He nodded, thankful that his vibranium hand didn't shake as he lifted the sheet. “Wait, let me say something before I do.”

The corner of your lip tugged as you tried not to smile. “Bucky-”

“I like you. I really like you. I have since the day we met. And I'm going to like you tomorrow. And the day after that and the day after that,” he admitted in a rush, catching your sharp inhale as he looked into your eyes. “But I know my past isn't easy to deal with. If you just want to be a teammate or colleague, that’s okay. Just. Being a part of your life in some way is more than enough.”

Alpine lifted her head and looked between the two of you, as if she was waiting with baited breath to see what would happen next.

Bucky felt a crack in his heart when you didn't speak or react, his body slumping slightly into the couch. It was okay. He took a chance and told you how he felt. He wouldn't force you to reciprocate.

“Bucky?” You asked above a whisper, reaching over to help him unfold the paper. He gasped when he saw the checkmark beside “YES”, blinking rapidly to make sure you picked that box. “I really like you, too.”

“You do?” He exhaled, grasping your hand with renewed joy. He was careful not to squeeze too hard. Hurting you was the last thing he ever wanted to do.

“Yeah. Pretty much since the day I met you,” you admitted, glancing in your lap before you met his gaze again. He saw stars in your eyes. “And your past isn't your fault, Bucky. You aren't something to ‘deal with’, okay? You’re a good man. I can give you a whole list of reasons if you need it.”

Physically, Bucky’s body was in peak condition. Your confession, however, caused all of the air to leave his lungs and made him weak in the best possible way. A familiar warmth moved through Bucky’s veins as he breathed again and it dawned on him at that moment that he hadn't felt cold since you walked into his life.

Not once.

Your faith in him gave him strength. Your mere existence gave him the courage to try. And he didn't have to go it alone.

“Wow,” he breathed, relieved and elated as he gave you a small smile. “How about tomorrow night?”

“It’s a date,” you smiled.

“Great,” he smiled back. A date. He couldn't wait to see the look on Steve's face when he told him that he finally asked you out.

“And I think the note was purrfect,” you teased at Alpine before you scrunched up your face. “I ruined the moment, didn't I?”

Bucky brought your hand to his mouth, kissing it as gently as he possibly could. He could hear your heart race. So was his. “Not at all.”

He knew it was too soon to say he loved you and it was likely too soon for you to feel that way about him, but he felt hope in your smile that you would one day.

For now, he had a date to plan all because you checked “yes”.

We know it'll be the best date ever, right? Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

3K notes · View notes

hoshifighting · 4 months

Text

Cherry Picked

Synopsis: To get closer to university, you decide to move back to your childhood home. That's when you bump into Seungcheol, an old friend you haven't seen in ages. Surprisingly, he still remembers how much you loved the cherries he used to pick for you from his backyard when you were kids.

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: Ex neighbors, ex childhood friends to lovers, smut, oral (f. and m. receiving), ass slapping, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, cum swallowing, praising, pleasured tears, Seungcheol is such a sweet guy (he gives cherries in your mouth), wap and etc.

The decision to move in with your grandma came from the practicality of being close to the university you were about to start. As you settled into your chosen course, you realized that the proximity of your grandma's house would not only provide a familiar and comforting place but also ease the transition into this new chapter of your life.

The idea of being near the university meant more than just convenience. It was an opportunity to reconnect with the cherished memories of your childhood, with the added support and love your grandma could offer. As you stood on the familiar sidewalk in front of your grandma's house, memories of childhood vacations flooded your mind. The pretty white house, with its charming garden and welcoming porch, stirred up emotions as the taxi came to a stop. It was a neighborhood filled with nostalgia.

Taking your baggage from the taxi, you looked around at the fancy houses lining the street. Children played on the sidewalks, and elders observed the comings and goings of the neighborhood, a scene that hadn't changed much since your middle school days.

You walked up to the front door, memories echoing with each step. With a deep breath, you touched the ring bell, anticipation bubbling within you. The door opened, and there stood your grandma, her eyes lighting up with joy. She enveloped you in a tight hug, the warmth of her embrace and the familiar scent of good food in the air immediately comforting.

"Oh, sweetheart, it's so good to see you again!" she exclaimed, holding you at arm's length to get a good look at you. "Come in, come in! I've been waiting for this day."

You stepped inside, and the atmosphere of the house embraced you like an old friend. The scent of home-cooked meals wafted through the air, instantly transporting you to the countless happy moments spent in this very place.

"I've cleaned up your room, dear. I wanted everything to be just as you remember it," your grandma said, leading you down the familiar hallway. The floor creaked slightly beneath your feet, adding to the symphony of memories.

As you entered your childhood room, a flood of emotions washed over you. The room, though tidied up, held remnants of your past – the posters on the walls, the cozy bed, and the worn-out but cherished belongings. It was as if time had stood still.

"Thank you, Grandma. It feels like I've stepped back in time," you said, a lump forming in your throat. "I've missed this place."

She smiled warmly, patting your cheek affectionately. "You're always welcome here, my love. Now, freshen up, and we'll have a nice dinner together. There's so much to catch up on."

As you settled into the room, the nostalgia continued to weave its magic, creating a comforting cocoon that wrapped around your heart.

As you sat down for dinner with your grandma, the aroma of home-cooked meals filling the air, she couldn't help but bring up the topic of your love life. With a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, she asked, "So, any boyfriends in the picture, dear?"

You chuckled, poking at your food. "No, Grandma, no boyfriends at the moment. Just focusing on university and settling in."

She raised an eyebrow playfully, "Oh, come on! Someone as beautiful as you must have admirers."

You blushed at the compliment, "Well, maybe, but no serious contenders."

With a mischievous grin, she leaned in a little closer. "You know, now that you're back in the neighborhood, maybe you'll find someone interesting. I did see Seungcheol, you know, Mrs. Choi's grandson from down the street. He looked so cute the other day."

You tilted your head in confusion, surprised by the sudden matchmaking suggestion. "Seungcheol? Really, Grandma?"

She chuckled, nodding. "Yes, really! He's a nice young man, and he's been doing some work around the neighborhood."

Amused by your grandma's matchmaking efforts, you couldn't help but burst into laughter. "Grandma, you're something else. Maybe I'll bump into him and say hello..."

She joined in your laughter, the sound echoing through the familiar walls of the dining room. "You never know what the neighborhood might have in store for you!"

The morning sun painted a golden hue over the neighborhood as you tiptoed down the stairs, determined not to disturb your grandma, who was still enjoying her peaceful slumber. After a good night's sleep and a hearty breakfast, you felt refreshed and ready to explore more of your childhood haven.

Entering your bedroom, you set about tidying up a few things. As you moved some items around, your eyes fell upon a dusty old box tucked away in a corner. Curiosity piqued, you opened it to find a treasure trove of dolls and toys, relics from your own childhood.

A smile played on your lips as memories flooded back, and an idea sparked. The sound of children playing in the garden next door echoed through the open window, and you recalled the two little girls you had seen the day before. With the box of toys in hand, you made your way down to the garden.

Leaning against the fence, you called out to the two girls who were engrossed in their own imaginative play. They turned to you, their expressions a mix of curiosity and surprise, but soon broke into gentle waves as they approached.

"Hi girls!" you greeted them warmly, holding up the box of toys. "I found these old dolls and toys in my room. Would you like to play with them?"

Their eyes widened with excitement, and genuine smiles spread across their faces. You crouched down, placing the box on the grass and inviting them to explore its contents. The girls eagerly delved into the box full of dolls, their joy infectious.

As you were about to bid them farewell and head back inside, they called out, "What's your name?"

You chuckled at their innocence. "I'm Y/N," you replied.

They exchanged glances before one of them asked, "Y/N, do you want to play with us?"

You hesitated for a moment, the memories of your own carefree days flooding back. With a warm smile, you sat down on the grass, joining the two girls in their imaginative world. The laughter, chatter, and the timeless joy of play filled the air as you momentarily lost track of time.

As you sat on the grass, enjoying the laughter and playing with the two little girls, the crunching sound of approaching footsteps caught your attention. A shadow fell over you, and a friendly voice rang out, "Hi, pretty girls. Your mom is calling you for lunch."

Looking up, you were met with the sight of a handsome young man holding a basket full with cherries. You quickly got up, brushing the grass off your shorts, and apologized, "Oh, sorry. I didn't realize how quickly time passed."

He smiled warmly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "No worries at all. It looked like you were having a great time."

Glancing over at the two girls heading into the house for lunch, you returned your attention to the boy in front of you. As you looked into his eyes, you immediately recognized the gummy smile and the familiar warmth it brought. The basket of cherries triggered a flood of memories, and it dawned on you that this was Seungcheol – the same Seungcheol who used to deliver cherries to your grandma's door when you were younger.

"Seungcheol?" you asked, a nostalgic smile playing on your lips.

His eyes widened in pleasant surprise, and he returned the smile. "Yeah, that's me. You remember?"

"Of course!" you exclaimed, a wave of memories washing over you. "You used to deliver cherries to my grandma's house all the time when I was younger. It's been years."

Seungcheol chuckled, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. "Wow, small world. I remember your grandma always appreciated those cherries. My grandma used to send them directly from her backyard."

As you both started walking towards the house, cherries in hand, Seungcheol continued, "I still help my grandma with the cherries. It's a tradition now. Anyway, it's good to see you again. Your grandma mentioned you're back in the neighborhood."

"Yeah, just moved in," you replied, a smile tugging at your lips.

Your attention shifted to the basket of cherries Seungcheol held, the fruit looking ripe, round, and tempting. — Cherry is still your favorite fruit, but you don't know if he remembers— Seungcheol noticed your gaze and offered, "Want some? They're fresh."

You smiled gently "Oh, no, thank you. I'm good."

Seungcheol grinned, seemingly understanding, and said, "Alright, I'm going to deliver these. I'll leave you right at your door. It's literally the next house."

As you walked together towards your grandma's house, he carried the basket of cherries with ease. The short distance allowed for a brief conversation.

"So, how's everything been since you moved back?" Seungcheol inquired, his casual tone making the conversation feel effortless.

"It's been good," you replied, a genuine smile playing on your lips. "Just settling in, you know? It feels nice to be back."

Seungcheol nodded in understanding. "Well, we're all happy to have you back. The neighborhood has missed you."

As you reached the doorstep, Seungcheol stopped, turning to you with a small bow of his head. "Well, here you are. If you ever need anything or just want to catch up, you know where to find me."

With a friendly wave, Seungcheol continued on his way, leaving you standing at the familiar doorstep of your grandma's house.

[...]

The doorbell chimed, and your grandma, bustling around in the kitchen, called out for you to answer it. You eagerly made your way to the door, and as it creaked open, there stood Seungcheol, a vision of a hardworking young man with a basket of cherries in his hands.

Dressed in a white shirt that clung to his muscular arms and chest, with gardener jeans bearing the traces of dirt and a smudge on his face, he looked like he had been tending to his grandmother's backyard. The baskets he held were filled with an abundance of cherries, their vibrant red hue catching your eye.

"Hey there," Seungcheol greeted, a warm smile on his slightly flushed face. "Remember cherries being your favorite?"

You beamed, genuinely surprised by the thoughtful gesture. "Yes, they still are. How did you remember that?"

He tilted his head, a hint of shyness coloring his cheeks. "Oh, you know, memories just pop up sometimes." Seungcheol handed you the larger, more beautiful basket of cherries, and your heart skipped a beat.

"Wow, thank you so much," you exclaimed, the surprise evident in your voice. "Are these for me?"

He nodded, his smile widening. "Yep, especially for you. I hope you like them."

Your heart warmed at his gesture, and you thanked him sincerely. Watching him head towards his house, you closed the door behind you. Turning to your grandma, who had observed the exchange with a knowing grin, you both burst into laughter.

"Oh, Grandma, Seungcheol brought cherries," you shared, holding the basket close to your heart.

She chuckled, a twinkle in her eyes. "Well, isn't that sweet? Looks like someone remembers your favorites."

As you savored the cherries Seungcheol had brought, your grandma, with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, reminded you of her plans for the next day.

"By the way, dear, tomorrow I'm going to a senior's dance with Mrs. Choi," she said, a playful smile playing on her lips. "Do you mind being alone for the evening?"

You couldn't help but chuckle at her teasing tone. "Oh, not at all, Grandma. I'll be just fine. You go enjoy the dance. It sounds like a lot of fun."

She nodded, her smile widening. "Good, good. You know where everything is if you need anything. And who knows, maybe Seungcheol will be around to keep you company."

Your cheeks warmed at the suggestion, and you playfully rolled your eyes.

As the next afternoon rolled around, you glanced out the window and noticed Mrs. Choi and your grandma making their way to a taxi. Seungcheol, being the courteous young man he always was, helped them into the cab with a gentle demeanor.

Hidden behind the door, you couldn't help but smile at the scene unfolding before you. Seungcheol's kindness and attentiveness were evident, and the sight warmed your heart. It seemed like some things never changed, and Seungcheol continued to be the sweet, considerate person you remembered from your childhood.

You took a moment to appreciate the simple beauty of the moment – the friendship between the grandmothers and the helpfulness of Seungcheol – Seungcheol turned around, catching your eye, and offered his signature gummy smile. He approached you, a bit of dirt still clinging to his gardener jeans, and started a conversation.

"Hey there," he greeted, his warm gaze fixed on you. "My grandma asked me to keep you company while they're out. I hope you don't mind."

You quickly responded, "Oh, no, it's not necessary. I don't want to bother you. You have your work to do."

Seungcheol chuckled, shaking his head. "No bother at all. In fact, it's my invitation. Come with me, and you can watch me pick the cherries."

You hesitated for a moment but couldn't resist the genuine warmth in his invitation. "Well, if you insist. I wouldn't mind watching you in action."

With a playful grin, he gestured towards his grandma's backyard. "Great! Let's go."

You followed him to the back, finding a cozy spot on the little stairs that provided access to the rear of the house. Seungcheol, with his basket in hand, started picking cherries from the lush trees.

As the comfortable silence settled between you and Seungcheol, you took a moment to bask in the warmth of the sun, closing your eyes and relishing the feeling on your skin. When you opened your eyes again, the scene had shifted. Seungcheol was now busy washing the cherries inside a bucket.

His movements were light and deliberate, but your attention was quickly drawn to the definition in his arms. The gardener's jeans showcased his strong legs, and as he washed the cherries, the muscles in his forearms flexed with every careful movement. A sheen of sweat glistened on his skin, running down the side of his ear, and his chest was accentuated by the tight white shirt.

You found yourself captivated by the unintentional display of his body. The sight of his veiny hands moving gracefully as he washed the cherries seemed to mesmerize you. The play of sunlight highlighted the contours of his arms, and you couldn't help but follow every movement, unintentionally getting lost in the scene unfolding before you.

Without noticing, your legs were pressed together and your lip bitten between your teeth, panties getting ruined by how wet you are.

As you lost yourself in the unintentional admiration of Seungcheol's physique, you were oblivious to the fact that he had noticed your subtle reactions – the rise and fall of your chest, the slight furrowing of your eyebrows. Little did you know, he had seen it all.

Breaking your reverie, you looked up to find Seungcheol walking towards you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. In his hand, he held a single cherry, and a playful smile adorned his face.

"Y/N," he said, holding the cherry between his fingers. "Open your mouth."

You widened your eyes, a sudden self-awareness hitting you as you adjusted your posture. Seungcheol, undeterred, gracefully squatted in front of you. With a gentle yet confident gesture, he presented the cherry, and you complied, opening your mouth to accept the fruit.

Seungcheol delicately placed the cherry on your tongue, and your lips wrapped around it lusciously. The subtle hum that escaped him at the view sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but blush at the unexpected intimacy of the moment.

Seungcheol sat down next to you, drying his hands with a towel, and his mischievous side took over. Leaning in, he whispered teasingly into your ear, his voice low and filled with playful intent.

"So," he began, his tone a playful drawl, "do you always look at guys washing cherries like that, or am I just lucky today?"

You breathe sharply, trying to compose yourself, so you don't seem more desperate than you already are. Seungcheol's playful teasing continued, his tone filled with humor as he leaned in a bit closer.

"Or maybe," he added with a sly grin, "you've got a secret cherry fetish? Admiring the way we handle them, huh?"

You couldn't help but laugh at Seungcheol's teasing remarks, his playful banter adding a layer of humor to the unexpected moment. "Oh, you caught me," you responded, feigning a dramatic admission. "I'm a cherry enthusiast, secretly critiquing everyone's cherry-picking technique."

Seungcheol joined in your laughter, the shared amusement creating an easy camaraderie between you. "Well, lucky for me, I've got the best cherry-picking technique in the neighborhood,"

"Is that the only thing you're good at?" you asked, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

Seungcheol's expression shifted, his playful smile replaced by a more provocative look. He licked his lips and raised an eyebrow, his gaze holding yours with a hint of intensity. "Is there something else you think I should be doing?" he asked, the air between you suddenly thick with a newfound tension.

"Is there something you want to show me?" you asked, your voice laced with a teasing invitation.

Seungcheol's eyes darkened with a hint of desire as he bit his lower lip, the provocative expression sending a thrill down your spine. His response was a low, husky murmur, more teasing than ever, "Oh, I've got a few things in mind sweetheart."

"Yeah?" you responded, a playful glint in your eyes as you continued to eat him up with your gaze.

Seungcheol's control wavered, and with a sudden impulse, reached out, pulling you onto his lap. The move was confident and electrifying, instantly closing the distance between you.

Seungcheol's response was a husky "Yeah," laden with desire, and without further hesitation, he closed the gap between you. His lips devoured yours in a heated kiss, a culmination of the teasing banter and charged glances that had been building throughout the afternoon.

The taste of sweet cherries lingered on both your lips, adding a sensual undertone to the passionate exchange. Seungcheol's big arms encircled your waist, pulling you closer, the proximity intensifying the electrifying connection between you. The world outside seemed to fade away as the kiss deepened, the shared desire threading through the intimate embrace.

Seungcheol grabbed your hair, exposing the delicate skin of your neck. The sudden roughness sent a thrill through your body, and you squirmed on his lap in response, making him groan.

His lips found your neck, and with a mixture of kisses and bites, he left a trail of sensations that sparked pleasure and desire. The intensity of the moment heightened as he explored the sensitive skin, each kiss and nip fueling the growing heat between your legs.

Seungcheol's hands, still firmly gripping your hair, traveled down to your ass, his fingers squeezing the soft flesh with a teasing grip. The rough denim of his gardener's jeans added an extra layer of friction, making your pussy throb.

"Seungcheol," you breathed, your voice a mixture of longing and anticipation, "more."

His lips, still grazing your neck, paused for a moment as he looked up, a wicked glint in his eyes. "More, huh?" he teased, his fingers tightening their hold on your ass. "What do you want, exactly?"

"Fuck me? Please?" You ask almost begging, your hips grinding on his clothed cock.

The boldness in your response seemed to ignite a deeper flame within Seungcheol. His eyes darkened with desire, and a low, guttural moan escaped his lips at your explicit request. Without further words, he took immediate action.

His hands, still firmly grasping your arms, guided you to stand. Seungcheol, driven by the hornyness, led you towards the inside of the house. Pressing his bulge on your ass, as he grabs your tits over your shirt, making you mewl.

Seungcheol's hands skillfully unclasped the buttons of his gardener. The fabric surrendered to gravity, finding its way to the ground, leaving him only in his shirt. With a swift motion, he discarded the shirt, casting it aside without a second thought.

With a swift motion, he pushed your shorts and panties down, and in the quiet of the room, you swore you heard a faint, tantalizing sound, perhaps a soft tearing as fabric met the fervor of the moment.

But to be honest, out of all the problems– your pussy clenching around nothing – a rip in your shorts was the least of it.

The way Seungcheol looked at your sopping cunt, spreading your folds with two fingers admiring how soaked you looked, the action made you leak. "Hmm, looking so wet for me, I should pick cherries in front of you more often…" He smiles, giving an open-mouthed kiss on your clit.

Your legs flinch, and immediately involve his two arms around your legs, tugging you down. "Shit! Yes Seungcheol!"

He sucks your clit bobbing his head, his mouth forming a pout around the bud while his tongue slipped inside of your pussy sometimes. As a welcome, the last thing you expected to receive when you arrived in the city was to have your childhood friend eating you out like a starving man, while holding your legs tightly.

Seungcheol tried to keep you pressed on the bed, but your hips bucked against his face and your legs trembled around his head, so in a way to keep you quieter, he slapped your thigh, making your body jolt. "A-ah!" Well, he supposed it would keep you quiet.

But you arched your back, moaning his name deliciously while your hands gripped the sheets.

"Oh? You liked that?" He gives you a surprised glance. And you nod, your cheeks flushed.

His hands caress the skin before giving you another slap, another and another…

“Y-you’re gonna make me come if you keep doing that.”

He grins, before starting to lap your clit fast, your head immediately spinning because of the different stimulations. And your orgasm comes without warning, the strength of his arms can't prevent your legs from wrapping around his head.

Arousal fat drops run down your cunt, making his face and lips glossy. As Seungcheol got up, the air in the room seemed to shimmer with the residue of your orgasm. Your breathing was heavy, each inhale a reminder of the intensity.

The sight of Seungcheol's milky skin, now fully at your disposal, rekindled a surge of energy within you. Almost immediately, you couldn't resist the urge to reciprocate, driven by a fiery desire that demanded more.

With a burst of enthusiasm, you wrapped your hands around his neck, surprising him as you playfully knocked him onto the bed. His laughter filled the room, a harmonious melody to the charged atmosphere. Undeterred, you leaned down, your hands now venturing towards the hem of his underwear.

Tugging at the fabric, you slid the underwear down his leg, revealing more of his bare skin. His hard cock jumps from the piece of cloth, the head flushed and the slit already leaking the glistening precum.

Sensually, you wrapped your tongue around his cock, a slow and deliberate motion from the base to the tip. The moment reached its peak as you provocatively put the whole dick inside your mouth, your lips touching the base of his pelvis. Seungcheol's body squirmed in response to the sensual display.

The room fell silent, except for the sound of Seungcheol moans and the slurping of your mouth on his cock.

Seungcheol's hands thread through your hair. His touch guided you as you continued to enjoy the length of his dick. His chest rose and fell in rhythm with the growing intensity of the moment. Soft whimpers escaped his lips, each sound a testament to the desire that pulsed through his body.

"Fuck… You're taking me so well." His breath hisses when his tip presses on the tight clutch of your throat.

He loves how messy you're taking his cock, your drool mixing with his pre cum, dropping to his pelvis. As he bucked his hips, you gagged around his cock, the combination of sensations driving him to a new height of pleasure. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and the room echoed with the sounds of his moans.

"Fuck hmm, fuck, I'm coming!" He warns, the dick twitching inside of your mouth. The warm spurts of cum hits your tongue while his grip on your hair tightens, making you groan.

The room hung in a momentary silence as you released your mouth from his cock, revealing your tongue glistening with his cum. With deliberate intent, you closed your mouthh and swallowed, the action met with a defeated moan from Seungcheol.

Hel grabs you and pulls you into a deep, passionate kiss. His hands gripped your ass, making the flesh jiggle under his touch. The embrace was both fervent and possessive as your tongues entwined in a delicious struggle, you felt the heat of Seungcheol's cock recomposing against your thigh.

Seungcheol, with a sudden assertiveness, rolled your bodies on the bed, placing you underneath him. Like a masterful dance, he flipped you effortlessly, your chest now pressed against the mattress. You felt his strong hands holding your hips up, and you instinctively wiggled your ass against his already hardened dick.

His husky voice whispered in your ear, "You look amazing like this. I'm so hard already" The words hung in the air, carrying with them a sense of appreciation and desire.

In response to Seungcheol's appreciative words, you teased, "Yeah? So why don't you do something about it?"

"I didn't remember you being this bold," he remarked, his voice laced with amusement.

Your playful giggle reverberated in the room as you pressed your hips against Seungcheol. The renewed contact elicited a hiss from him, a reaction to the wet feeling between you.

Seungcheol teased, a smirk playing on his lips, "Admit it. I've officially ruined cherries for you. From now on, every time you see one, you'll think of me."

Raising an eyebrow, "Why are you so sure of it?" Before he could even respond, he silenced you abruptly, slamming his dick inside and effectively shutting up your words, even as you screamed in response.

Seungcheol, now teasing you in return, whispered in a husky voice as your body trembled on the sheets. "Looks like cherries aren't the only thing I've ruined for you," he teased, a wicked glint in his eyes.

Oh, of course. Your pussy really looked ruined now.

You, caught in the swirl of sensations, tried to retort, but he continued his playful banter. "Maybe I should find more things to claim," he mused, his hands exploring your body with a deliberate touch. "What do you say?"

"Oh my g-god! Fuck you!"

The sharp response you gave to Seungcheol only seemed to fuel his desire. Without missing a beat, he slammed his hips hard again, asking mockingly, "What?" The rhythm of his movements became relentless, a series of repeated slams that left you gasping and screaming, the room filled with the sounds of pleasure and desire.

He continued the forceful thrusts, each one pushing you further into a state of ecstasy. The wetness that enveloped his dick, your slickness dripping on his bed, but you couldn't care less, not when his dick was buried deep inside your cunt.

Seungcheol, merciless in his actions, mocked playfully as your voice became silenced by pleasure, "Not talking anymore, huh?" Your eyes filled with pleasure-induced tears, and your face buried in the pillow, the sensations becoming overwhelming as he brought you mercilessly to the edge.

The room seemed to pulsate with the wet sounds echoing from your pussy, the intertwined moans of pleasure grew louder with each passing second. Every thrust hits your sweet spot, until the familiar sensation starts to be present. And Seungcheol could teel, for sure, since your pussy clenched hard around his cock, making him whimper even louder.

Seungcheol, in the midst of the passionate encounter, asked you to let go completely, urging you to release your pleasure. "Cream all over my cock sweetheart… Oh my god, you look so good baby!" he whispered, a genuine appreciation in his voice.

As you complied, cumming all over his pretty cock, he couldn't help but express how good you looked. Sincerity laced his words as he admired the sight before him – your hair falling beautifully on the bed and on your face, your arched back, lips parted, furrowed eyebrows expressing ecstasy, moans escaping your blissed-out face.

Seungcheol moaned in pleasure at the captivating view in front of him, praising you as he felt himself getting closer. "You're so beautiful like this, lost in pleasure. I can't get enough of you."

As Seungcheol's abs tightened, you felt the surge of intensity as he filled you up with his cum. You took everything, your face buried in the pillows, a mixture of pleasure and raw emotion washing over you. His hips stuttered in the final moments, the room filled with the sounds of shared ecstasy.

As Seungcheol withdrew, a moan escaped your lips at the sudden emptiness, your body feeling both spent and satisfied. The aftermath of the intimate encounter left you sprawled on the bed, a mix of pleasure and exhaustion.

Seungcheol, after the intense and intimate exchange, finally laid beside you. As you both lay there, catching your breath, he looked into your eyes "You know," he began, his voice a gentle murmur, "this feels like coming home again. Having you here, it's like rediscovering a part of myself that I'd almost forgotten."

2K notes · View notes

mostly-imagines · 9 days

Text

So This Is Love

jason todd x fem!reader

aka you show each other what love is supposed to be like

4 in 1 blurbs

warnings: section 1: close-call panic attack for j, mentions of ptsd for j // section 2: implied sexual activity // section 3: mild angst w comfort // section 4: implied ptsd for j

He feels like his heart might burst through his chest.

The nightmare wasn’t anything unusual for him, but it did feel particularly vivid tonight. It was more of a memory than anything, though. That same one that plays on a loop in his head throughout the night the more he tries to push it away during the day. It was the last thwack of the crowbar that had him jolt awake in bed.

You shift in your spot next to him, opening your eyes to see his rattled state. If he’d been in a clearer frame of mind he would’ve lied to you. He would’ve expertly leveled his breathing and told you everything was fine and to go back to sleep.

But instead, he looks over at you with wide eyes, chest heaving and shaking like he might start hyperventilating at any moment.

You shoot up from the bed, instantly on alert. This isn’t the first time he’s had one of these nightmares around you, so it’s not hard for you to guess where this is coming from.

“Jay? What’s—what do you need?” You know better than to try and touch him unprompted right now, you’ve panicked enough yourself to know that sudden contact only makes it worse.

“I—I can’t, I—” Now he really looks like he’s about to lose all control of his breathing.

You sit up further, moving onto your knees. “Here, let me—can I see your hand?” you ask gently, holding your own out.

He extends it to you without question, a tiny act of vulnerability that he couldn’t have dreamed of doing in this state before he met you.

You flip his hand over, palm-up and start tracing lines over it in the moonlight. You’re looking at his hand quite intently like there’s something very important on it. It’s enough to make him question what the hell you’re doing.

“I can read palms.” You tell him, simply.

“What?” His voice almost breaks, like he’s right at the edge of tears.

“Yeah, my friend taught me. I can tell the future and everything.” You look up at him, fingers not stopping their trailing. “Do you wanna hear yours?”

All he can do is nod.

You smile and start to inspect his hand carefully, tracing over calluses and a few tiny scars. You draw your finger across the short, deep line parallel to his fingers.

“This one…see the way it curves upwards right there?” He nods. “That means you’re very resourceful and ambitious. Like a leader.” His breathing starts to slow as he watches you, trying to focus on what you’re showing him in the dim light from the window.

“And this one,” you trace the line that curves downwards in the middle, “This one says that you’re strong and stubborn, which I can confirm,” he huffs out a laugh. It’s little but it’s genuine. “But it also means that you’re resilient. You’re built to overcome things and bounce back even stronger because of them. Which I can also confirm.”

He leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. He takes in a deep breath, watching you draw patterns across the base of his palm.

The sensation soothes him in a way that he frankly didn’t know he could be soothed. He figures he usually can’t, except when it’s you. He tries to match your breathing, syncing up with you. If anyone else tried to get this close to him when he was on the verge of a panic attack they’d get punched, at best.

But you…you always know how to help him. He’s considered in the past that he did something really right somewhere down the line and you were sent to him as reward. He’d racked his mind for hours of every good thing he’d ever done, trying to find one that could explain your presence in his life. For anything that could explain why he deserved you. He poured and poured over every memory he could dig up but couldn’t find any good he’d ever done that surmounted to a single piece of the good in your heart.

There was a time when he would’ve thought—when he did think that you were only in his life to be taken away as soon as he felt safe. That would certainly be in line with previous experiences. But you showed him quickly that you have this way about you…it makes those loud thoughts in the back of his head shut up and just listen. Listen to your words, your breathing, your footsteps, your laugh…anything he could. Because it turns out, when he listens, he feels safe.

He’s quiet for a long time, contentedly watching you work. He notices that at some point you’d stopped tracing the lines and began drawing designs instead.

He breaks the silence after several minutes, softly commenting, “You don’t know how to read palms.”

“No, I do not.”

But you continued to leave your invisible art on the palm of his hand just the same, both of you taking comfort in the sound of the other's breathing and the soothing feeling of each other’s skin.

The radio plays lightly in the background, surrounding your night with soft ambience. You’re working at the cutting board with tomatoes as Jason leans against the counter next to you, having just finished getting the pasta set up on the stove.

His hands find your hips, resting them there as he watches you work over your shoulder.

“Watch your thumb.” He comments when the knife gets a little too close for his liking.

You shrug him off, “I know how to do it.”

He eyes the way the knife stutters as you cut through the tomato, slicing through not very cleanly at all. “Doesn’t look like it.”

You ignore him, elbowing him gently in the abdomen. He’s joking, but he’s not. The skill level you’re displaying is only above Bruce and slightly below Tim, which is not great.

“Will you let me do it?” he asks you when he realizes there’s going to be no improvement.

“Fine.” You relent with faux annoyance.

You switch over to the stovetop, keeping a careful eye on the pasta as it cooks. It’s quiet for a moment as he works, chopping with much more efficiency than you had.

“You didn’t have to stay here tonight, you know.” You say quietly, still intently watching the stove.

In spite of the music, your low volume does nothing to faze him as he continues his actions, “Why wouldn’t I?”

You stir the contents of the saucepan around. “Well, I know Roy wanted you to go out…”

“Not missing much.” He mumbles, opening up the above cabinet to get out plates.

You lull your head to the side, “Come on, he’s your best friend.”

Jason frowns. “He’s not my best friend.”

You turn your head towards him, “No?”

He meets your gaze, frown consistent. “No. You are.” He says it like he’s confused that you don’t know that.

“Oh.” You smile, “You’re my best friend too.”

His eyes soften at that, a light smile gracing his lips. He knew that, and he knew you’d say it, but hearing it out loud just…does something to him.

You flick the stove top off, prompting him to on instinct reach for the Marinara jar and crack it open for you. He hands it to you and you accept with a smile, twisting it open the rest of the way as you turn back to the stove. The jar sputters as you open, spitting out sauce.

“Oh, shit.” You hiss, when the splatter hits your shirt.

He takes one glance at the mess on your shirt and pulls his own shirt off his back. He’s tugging yours off just as fast, replacing it with his. You’ve barely processed what happened as he scans your body, eyes lingering on where his shirt stops at your thighs. “Can you wear this to bed tonight?” He asks, hands running over your waist.

You laugh, “Really?”

He meets your eyes, face serious. “Yes.” He squeezes your hip, “You look good.”

“In your shirt.” You say with a knowing smile.

“In my shirt.” He confirms.

You turn back to the stove to dish out the salsa, his hands skimming around your thighs as you do. He watches you as you work, though rather than watching your hands he’s fixated on the size of his shirt over you and how fucking good you look right now.

“Or…” He sweeps his eyes over your legs before looking back up at you again. “Did’ya turn the stove off?”

You tilt your head at him, “I did…?”

He grins at you, lifting you up by your thighs til you’re a head above him. “Good.” He maneuvers you over to the counter, setting you on top. He brings your wrist up to his mouth to press a delicate kiss before dropping to his knees.

You’ve been laying in bed for at least three hours, bordering on sleep but never quite falling in. You and Jason had a little spat, though nothing insurmountable, it was still the biggest fight you’ve had to date. You’d tried going out (at night) to see your friend that was having a hard time, and yeah, you should’ve told Jason you were going. It was only five blocks, give or take, but in Gotham at eleven o’clock at night, it’s a risk to say the least.

You should’ve told Jason, you know. But he wouldn’t have let you go or would’ve insisted on putting hold on patrolling to accompany you. You always feel bad when he does that—people could be getting hurt somewhere because you needed your boyfriend to walk you down the street. Unfortunately, it didn’t matter in the end because he caught you red handed before you’d even made it a full block away. Of all the nights for him to come home early, it had to be this one.

He dropped down from the rooftop behind you and scared the absolute hell out of you, and you didn’t even have time to be relieved that it was just him because he was on you in a flash.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” His voice was hard through the modulator, a rare tone for him to use with you.

“I just—my friend—” he sounded tired and angry, sure signs that he’d really not had a good night so far which was probably all the more reason that you shouldn’t have been out by yourself in the middle of the night.

“What are you—no! Go home. Now.” You would’ve, you really would’ve, but your friend called you crying about her boyfriend cheating on her again and she needed the in person support.

“Ja—” You’d cut yourself off, “It’s down the street, it’s fine—” He dropped his shoulders in a huff and faced you dead-on. You didn’t need him to take his helmet off to know exactly how he was looking at you.

He dropped down and hooked his arm around the back of your legs, lifting you off the ground with no discernible effort. “Wha—”

He started walking before you were even fully planted on his shoulder, arm wrapping around your legs to hold you in place.

“Hood! I am so fucking serious, put me down!” You swatted at his back and struggled in his grip, though in the back of your mind you knew it was a pointless effort. Even if you were a match in size, whatever mood he’d been pushed in was enough to guarantee that you had no chance.

He ignored you, not even pretending that you were giving him any difficulty with your squirming. He marched you back down the block to your apartment, not stopping until you’re outside your door. He set you down in between him and the entrance, digging into his pocket for his key.

He kicked the door shut behind him, finally letting you go. He wordlessly grabbed one of his spare guns and two cartridges of ammo from inside the closet by the door and turned back to you with a firm stance. “Stay here.”

You immediately tried to push past him again, at that point more angry about him dragging you back here than about having to duck out on your friend. He stopped you, holding you by the arms, which led you to respond by raising your voice at him, “Jason!”

But he didn’t waste any time letting you know how it is, “I will lock you in this fucking apartment. Stay. Here.” Him cursing at you like that was very rare and not a particularly good sign, so through your anger you’d made the decision that it was better to relent, for now. Your posture dropped and you frowned at him resentfully, a visible cue that you were giving in without you having to say it.

He stayed true to his word and locked the door on his way out, though knowing you could easily unlock it from the inside. You’d trudged into your bedroom, slamming the door behind you.

Now you lay on Jason’s usual side of the bed, partially because you do miss him, partially because the bed feels a little less empty when you can’t see all the empty space. You know he was just trying to keep you safe after what was probably a rough start to the night, so you feel less than great that you’d yelled at him.

Your dwelling over the memory is interrupted by a quiet creak of the bedroom door. You blink up at him blearily, “Jay?” You sit up, furrowing your brow. You didn’t even hear him come home. “What’s wrong?” You figure he must be hurt to come in here—it’s not unknown for him to sleep on the couch if he feels like he did something wrong or upset you.

Your eyes attempt to adjust to the darkness, scanning over him for any injuries. He’s out of his armor and in his regular clothes which means he must have showered already. And you know from dozens of nights patching him up that he always tends to his injuries before showering.

This leaves you confused, as you look up at him, waiting for an answer. “I can’t…I don’t want to sleep without you.” He whispers, eyes on the floor.

You shuffle back into your usual spot near the wall and hold your hand out to him expectantly. You’re still a bit cross with him, but you miss him too much to care right now.

It takes him a second to move, but he eventually lingers away from the door and makes his way to the bed. He takes your hand as he climbs onto the bed, letting go only when you lay down after him, staring up at the ceiling next to him.

You weren’t entirely expecting him to wrap his arms around you and tug you into his chest. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’d assumed he would lay on his side and you on yours and that would be enough for him to fall asleep with. Instead, he tightens his arms and buries his face into the crook of your neck. You lay there in silence for a couple minutes, both thinking.

“You’re mad.” He mumbles into your shoulder after a while. You know he feels badly about the dispute, you knew it while it was still happening. As hard as he tries, he’s not very good at hiding his emotions. Not with you, anyways.

You shrug slightly. “Barely. I’ll get over it. This is more important.”

He picks his head up to look at you, “I love you. You know that?”

You wiggle out of his grip a bit, making him frown. You use the new space to flip over to face him, before placing his arm back around your waist. You peek up at him, looking him in the eyes, “I do. You know I love you. Even when we fight.”

He looks at you like he’s a bit thrown off by your words. “I’m sorry. It was just…it was a rough night…I—I’m sorry.” He tells you dolefully.

You shake your head, frowning. “Don’t be. I should’ve texted you.”

“It—yeah. Please. I just worry about you.” He looks so sad and it makes you feel somehow worse.

“I know,” you whisper, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He kisses your forehead, not moving away after.

You feel like you can finally relax and your tense body doesn’t take long to slacken in his hold. Soon after, he does the same, both of you closing your eyes. You feel your heart slow and your mind starts to find a space of peace.

Before you crash out, you mumble out, “I’m going to be a little passive aggressive in the morning, though.”

“I’d hope so.”

Jason didn’t get it at first.

Honestly, he didn’t really realize that you noticed things about him that even he didn’t see.

Your neighbor was having their place remodeled and you knew there would be construction going on near your apartment all day.

Jason didn’t really care, planning to bury his head under the pillow and trying to sleep through it. You however, seemed very adamant about getting out of the apartment that day. You’d left hours before the construction crew had even gotten there, telling him it was a nice day out.

It was an alright day, but he let you have your way.

You held his hand as you walked down the street, looking into shop windows and commenting on things you think he’d like.

You led him into a book store excitedly, telling him about how the author he’d been binging had just published something new. He didn’t even know that.

You were browsing the sections, flipping through books as you went. You peered across the shop at a kid holding an absolutely massive pile of books, who was clearly struggling to keep them in his arms.

His mother tried to help him but he shook his head and strided away independently, albeit very slowly. The weight of the books though, did get the best of him, and you could tell by the quivering in his arms that he was going to drop them.

“Loud noise.” You said quickly, seemingly out of the blue. Jason turned to you, confused, before seeing the stack the books splat flat onto the ground. It was indeed a loud noise.

He tilts his head at you, though you’re still busy watching the little boy as he throws his head back in frustration.

“What was that?”

You look at him, “He dropped his books.”

“Yeah, I saw. But why—”

His question gets cut off by the kid bursting into tears, wailing. You turn back to look at him, your gaze getting caught by the new book you’d been telling him about. “Ooh!”

You grab his hand and pull him over with you, smiling widely when you have the book in your hands. The sight of you makes him feel so warm so fast that he forgets about the odd interaction all together.

A couple hours later, you sit outside a cafe and eat lunch together, his back to the road, you sitting diagnal to him.

He’s telling you about the shit Damian got in trouble for at school last week, holding your hand with his right hand and eating with his left.

“He thinks he’s not going to get expelled for pulling shit like that every other week, it’s ridiculous.” He says, tossing his napkin down on the table.

Your smile is wavers as your eyes move past his shoulder looking down the block before widening, “Car—”

The sudden noise startles him enough to make him visibly jump, hand flying to where his holster would be. He looks over at the fender bender, shoulders relaxing.

He turns back to you to find your eyes looking far more worried than they should. You seem to be scanning his face, looking for something and he’s about to ask you what’s wrong when it sinks in.

He does get scared by unexpected loud sounds, doesn’t he? He never really thinks of it until it happens, but his mind is trained to expect gunshots or crowbars making impact.

It doesn’t happen often, but it noticeably takes a little piece out of him when it does.

“You…” he tries, but falters. He’s not even sure he’s processing this right.

He’s never seriously tried to fathom that you love him half as much as he loves you, though love doesn’t feel like a strong enough word. He lives and breathes for you, you’ve become a lifeline he’d been stranded without for most of his life. But now you're here and you’re everything, you’re in his head all the time, in every emotion he feels.

He thinks he’s here for you, that he was brought back from the dead because of you. You can’t possibly understand how much his heart is full of you, he doesn’t understand it himself.

He knows you love him, he’s gotten that through his head. But he can’t get a grasp on the idea that he’s equally matched in the who loves who the most battle.

Do you really care that much about him to go out of your way to keep track of things that might startle him? He knows there’s a million things about you that are in the back of his mind at any given time, but surely you don’t operate that same way with him?

Do you?

There’s this burning in his heart that aches and it only gets stronger when he sees you looking at him like that. So genuine. With care, with love.

He squeezes your hand, “I love you. More than anything.”

The look on your face sinks back into that sweet, adorable look that he’s so used to and it makes him want to scream.

You smile that bright smile and it sends his heart rocketing into oblivion. “I love you.” You squeeze his hand back, “More than everything.”

He feels like his heart might burst through his chest.

#jason todd loves his gf #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd x you #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd/reader #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #red hood fanfic #red hood fanfiction #dc x reader #dc imagine #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

criminalamnesia · 13 days

Note

GOD I LOVE traitor and how strong you've made the reader. It's amazing! And I eagerly await any future parts, whether it's big proper story or drabbles. BUT, you come first and your life does so you do what you gotta and go be amazing! We can wait. Proud of you X

im so late to responding, but thank you! <3

here’s part six :) also not really proofread so I apologize for any errors! I’ll fix them later!

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

you don’t know how long you’ve been sitting on the floor, cross-legged amongst broken glass, brittle flowers, and discarded clothes, when someone knocks on the door.

you don’t move, don’t say anything. the noise seems distant— too far off to be real.

besides, if someone is really knocking on your door, they know you’re in here.

and if they know you’re in here, it could be one of five people. your former squad mates, or the doctor.

the knock sounds again. it shakes you from your stupor, yet you still make no move to answer it. let them come in; let them see what they’ve made of you. of who you were. of who you could’ve been.

the person on the other side of the door is speaking now. you register the muffled baritone as it fights to be heard from the hall.

you clench your fists, then unclench them— stretching out your fingers as far as they go. clench them again. unclench. stretch. repeat.

it’s a tick— a calming habit. you don’t think it’s working at the present moment.

the doorknob turns. you still don’t move.

the door is being pushed in, light from the hallway aggressively slicing through the darkness you’d left yourself in. you fought the urge to curl in on yourself.

you’d been so consumed by your anger— are consumed by it— but coming into this room and seeing that damn note was earth-shaking. it was terrifying, and it was a tangible reminder of the team’s unapologetic tactics. simon’s unapologetic tactics.

the voice is speaking once more, clearer now that the door is out of the way— but you can’t make out the words over the ringing in your ears.

a hand gingerly lands on your shoulder, and that’s when you snap.

you whirl around, throwing yourself into the intruder like a cobra striking its prey. clearly caught off guard, the person lets loose a ‘oomph’ and falls backwards as you take out their legs.

everything is fuzzy. the ringing in your ears crescendos, and it brings pain with it. you’re striking your target with reckless abandon, still not registering who is flailing underneath you.

punches land and land and land. nails scrape and scratch and draw blood. all you see is red— all you hear is the sharpening of a knife or the whirring of a saw.

and then there are hands on you, yanking you away from your victim. the red slowly starts to recede, the ringing in your ears subsiding.

it’s only then do you release you’re screaming.

its only then do you see the swollen and bloodied face of your doctor, lying a foot away from you. she sputters a cough, blood leaving her lips and splattering onto the man leaning over her.

“you need to calm down,” a voice speaks into your ear.

“calm down, or they’ll sedate you,” it says, and you finally stop screaming. you take a breath.

clench your fists. unclench. stretch. repeat.

it takes you another minute to calm down enough to realize the person holding you is simon.

the doctor is being carried away now, and you notice it’s johnny and kyle carrying her. you notice john is standing to your left, eyes full of sympathy and guilt as he looks at you.

“get,” you huff, reaching down to slap at the arms circling your middle. “off me.”

simon releases you instantly. you don’t hesitate to put distance between the two of you. a few feet, at least. he just stands there, eyes watching with an expression you can’t place.

“what happened, love?” john’s voice is a soft rumble as he speaks. he moves a hand toward you, but decides against touching you— even if he only wanted to comfort you.

“I—” you start, glancing down at your hands. they’re bloody again.

“I thought it was—” you try again, but stop yourself.

you thought it was what? thought it was who?

you had heard man’s voice speaking to you. your mind had twisted things— had given you something you wanted to hear, deep down— because it gave you the chance to strike.

it gave you the opportunity to tear apart whichever man from the 141 had been there to check on you.

and you know you had wished it was simon.

john takes a cautious step forward at your silence. “let’s get you somewhere private, yeah? somewhere to cool down.”

the fire licking at your veins has subsided in favor of the chill of shame. of terror at what you’ve done— what you’ve done to the one person you had on your side. the person who was truly on your side.

you don’t fight this time. you give a nod, then solemnly follow him down the corridor. simon falls in behind you.

john takes you to his office, opening the door and ushering you inside. you move without protest, stepping into the dark room.

the two men enter behind you, john flicking on the light while simon pulls the door shut. you would’ve laughed at the scenario if you were in your right mind.

but you weren’t.

you weren’t okay. you knew that you weren’t, at least physically, but what you just did…

there was no way you were going to be transferred now. you doubted you would’ve even before you attacked the doctor.

you’re going to be discharged. you understand why.

but it hurts. this is your job, your life. years and years on the battlefield don’t prepare you for life off of it.

“love?”

john’s voice brings you back to the present. you realize you’ve been standing in the center of the room, unmoving and unblinking.

you feel simon’s hard gaze on your back. you want to cry.

how did things ever get this fucked up?

“im fine.” you say, not bothering to turn around. you didn’t trust yourself to keep it together if you faced them.

“you’re not,” john states, and you roll your eyes.

“im not talking about this with you,” you bite out, circling your arms around yourself. “either of you.”

“you should at least talk to someone, love— this isn’t healthy.”

“please, stop.” you tell him, but john was never good at taking orders. he gave them, not followed them.

“you hated the therapist, and you haven’t spoken to anyone else since… everything.” he continues.

“stop, john,” you try again.

“you need to let it out, love. we’re here—”

you spin around then, fists dropping to your sides. “for the love of god, john, shut the fuck up.”

that stuns him into silence, eyes slightly widened and mouth agape as he looks at you. simon doesn’t move from his position near the door.

“you are the last people i would ever fucking talk to! I don’t even want to be talking to you right now, but you won’t stop trying. trying to talk to me, trying to make it up, trying to wriggle your way back into my good graces.”

you pause, sucking in a breath. “johnny must’ve relayed the message, and that’s why you’ve back off a little— but one wrong fucking move and you’re swooping again! you aren’t my dad, you aren’t my lover, you aren’t my friend, and you’re sure as hell not my fucking captain anymore.”

“so please, john, leave me be. the four of you have done enough.”

the room is silent for a beat, then two. then three. and then simon takes a step forward, removes his balaclava, and looks you square in the face.

he doesn’t open his mouth to speak, so you take the chance to.

“don’t start with me, simon. just don’t.”

“the note,” he says. “you read it.”

you just look at him, a disbelieving scoff leaving your mouth as you give a nod. “yes, I read your fucking note. and I saw the stupid flowers, too, after seeing everything else you wrecked. tell me, how long did you wait after you tied me up to tear it all apart?”

he just watches you. you want to scream.

the note flashes back into your mind.

‘hope you can understand.’

“does it make you feel better, thinking what you did was right?” you ask him.

“I wouldn’t have done it differently.” simon tells you.

you clench your fists. unclench. stretch.

breathe in, breathe out.

“and if the roles were reversed,” you said, watching him. “if you were in my position, would you have expected me to do what you did?”

“yes.” he says, without hesitation.

“you’re unbelievable,” you huff. “is that how little I meant to you? all that time, wasted?”

“that’s not what I said.” he tells you, and you shake your head.

“no, but it’s what you meant.” anger is bubbling up again. you feel overwhelmed; shame and fury battling inside you. the ringing building up in your ears again, emerging from the background.

you can’t do this.

“what i meant is what i said.” he takes another step forward. “you’re just too damn stubborn to listen, always have been.”

“just go, simon.” you tell him. “both of you. go.”

“I wouldn’t change what I did,” he says again. “to protect my team, my family, I would do whatever it takes.”

you bite your tongue. you don’t want to keep arguing with him. he was an unmovable object— there was no way to reason with him.

“im not sorry it happened.” he speaks. “i did what i thought i had to do. what i had to do to make sure my team was safe.”

“and you should understand that, considering this team is all you have, too.”

you don’t respond— and even if you were going to, a knock on the door breaks the tense silence in the room.

johnny pops his head in, his eyes full of concern. “doc’s alrigh’.” he says, his gaze catching yours. “jus’ some bumps and bruises. she’ll be jus’ fine.”

“and she uh— said she’s not pressin’ charges or anythin’. says she still expects to see ya in a few days for your check-up.”

that’s what breaks you.

a tear slips from your eye, falling onto your cheek. another follows, then another, and you’re sobbing as you fall to the floor of price’s office.

the three men are staring, but no one makes any move to comfort you.

probably wise, considering what you did to the last person who tried.

you faintly register the click of the door as it shuts again. you don’t look up— your head in your hands as you cry.

cry about what you’ve done, what you’ve lost. mourn your career and your family and your love for the man who doesn’t regret what he did.

unbeknownst to you, simon is the only one still left in the room. his steps are silent as he approaches you— leaving only a foot of space between your bodies now.

he watches you as he sinks to the ground across from you, his long legs folded over each other, the fingers of his left hand twitching as he finds himself wanting to reach for you.

he still cares for you. his feelings for you were what made him do what he did in the first place.

the love he felt for you, twisting into betrayal and hurt and agony. fueling his actions, his desire to hear you admit your wrongdoings.

passion made people dangerous. passion in love, passion in rage. it was a fine line, and simon had crossed it.

he understood what this meant for you. recalls the conversation he had with price earlier— how laswell was planning for your discharge instead of your transfer.

this was the end of your time with them, and in the military. the hands of the 141, damaging one of their own beyond repair.

he finds himself mourning alongside you, then. mourning what was and what could’ve been.

what should have been.

“im sorry for what we did to you,” he says, but it comes out as a whisper that you don’t hear.

“im sorry.”

thank you all again for your patience! I plan on tying this little series up soon :)

as a reminder, I no longer do taglists. if you want to be notified when I post, follow @troiastitans and turn on notifications. I only reblog my works there.

I hope you all enjoyed :)

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pucksandpower · 6 days

Text

Rockabye Baby

Oscar Piastri x Reader

Summary: you and Oscar take the next step in building your family … just not in the way that anyone expected

Note: I really wanted to get something silly and cute posted for Mother’s Day — and so this was born! I hope you have as much fun reading this as I did writing it 🫶

You snuggle closer to Oscar in bed, resting your head on his chest as his fingers lazily trail up and down your arm. It’s been an exhausting few weeks on the road, with races back-to-back, but these quiet moments together make it all worth it.

“Osc?” You murmur sleepily. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, babe.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Anything.”

You hesitate, not sure if you should broach the subject. But you’ve been together for years now, surely he’s thought about it too? “Have you ever, you know … thought about having kids?”

Oscar tenses slightly, his fingers stilling on your skin. “Kids?”

“Yeah.” You prop yourself up on one elbow to study his face. “We’re not getting any younger. And I know racing is your whole life, but … I don’t know, I think you’d make an amazing dad.”

A small smile plays at the corners of his mouth. “You do, huh?” His fingers resume their gentle stroking along your arm. “I can’t lie, the idea terrifies me. All the responsibility, the pressure ...” He blows out a long breath. “But with you by my side? I think we could make it work.”

Hope blooms in your chest and you lean in to kiss him, long and lingering. “Really? You mean that?”

“Well, not right this second.” He chuckles, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “But someday? Definitely.”

You beam at him, buzzing with a childlike excitement you haven’t felt in years. “Oscar Piastri, future father. I can’t wait.”

He pulls you close, tucking you under his chin. “Me neither. Now get some rest, yeah? Big day tomorrow.”

You hum contentedly, letting his steady heartbeat lull you toward sleep. Kids with Oscar … you can’t imagine anything better.

A few days later, you’re curled up on the sofa after a long day of work, idly scrolling through your phone while Oscar pads around the flat. He’s been oddly restless and fidgety all evening, but you’ve learned not to question his little quirks. He’ll open up when he’s ready.

“So,” he begins, sinking onto the couch beside you with an adorably nervous expression. “You know how the other night you mentioned, um … wanting to be a mum someday?”

You perk up instantly, setting your phone aside as your pulse kicks up a notch. “Yeah?”

“Well.” He ducks his head shyly, then pulls something from behind his back — a small, smooth rock, painted in garish shades of papaya. “I got you this.”

You blink at him. “A … rock?”

“It’s our baby!” He thrusts it toward you proudly. “See, I’m the dad now. Taking those first steps.”

A startled laugh bubbles up from your chest. “Oscar, you dork. That’s the cutest, most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Too much?” He grimaces, though his eyes are twinkling with barely contained mirth. “I just thought, you know, we could start small. Get used to the idea before, uh, before anything bigger.”

“Oh my god, I love you.” You take the rock from his hand, cradling it tenderly as you peck his cheek. “Hi there, little guy. Hope you don’t mind a slightly non-traditional family.”

“Not at all.” Oscar drapes his arm around your shoulders as you lean into his side. “We’ll just raise him to be open-minded and accepting. Like his mum.”

“His mum who gave birth to him in pebble form, you mean?”

Oscar shrugs unapologetically. “He’ll be the talk of the playground.”

You dissolve into helpless giggles, nestling even closer. “This is certifiably insane, you know that? I can’t believe we’re grown adults playing house with a pet rock.”

“Hey, don’t knock it till you try it.” Oscar nuzzles into the crook of your neck, warm and solid against you. “We’re new parents. We can do whatever we want.”

Over the next few days, Rocky, as you’ve lovingly dubbed him, becomes a constant presence. You bring him along when you travel to the next race, introducing him proudly to the team. Lando takes one look and bursts out laughing.

“What the bloody hell is that thing?”

“Our son,” Oscar says with a straight face. “Would you like to meet your nephew?”

“You two are properly mental.” But there’s an unmistakable fondness in Lando’s smile as he gently pokes at Rocky. “S’pose he takes after his dad, eh?”

You crack up at the offended look on Oscar’s face. “Oh, trust me, I’ll be handling most of the heavy lifting around here.”

From there, it only escalates. Rocky gets his own tiny race suit, his own seat in Oscar’s car (firmly buckled in, of course — safety first). You find yourself referring to him with increasingly outlandish endearments.

“Here, let me get the handsomest stone in the whole wide world a bottle before we try tummy time.”

“How’s my little pebble today? Did you sleep okay in your bassinet?”

Logan nearly falls over laughing the first time he sees Rocky strapped into a miniature car seat on the plane between races.

“You guys are too much, man.” He shakes his head in bewildered amusement. “Where do you even find stuff like that?”

Oscar smirks. “Parents have their ways.”

The joke takes on a life of its own, morphing from a silly gag into a full-blown inside joke, an ever-present reminder that someday, when you’re both ready, you really will have a baby of your own to dote on. For now, though, raising Rocky together is more than enough.

It really hits you one evening as the team celebrates Oscar’s latest podium finish. You’re sitting with a small group, letting the lively chatter of friends and team members wash over you, when you become aware of Oscar sitting across from you. He’s got Rocky nestled in the crook of his elbow, cooing nonsense as he gently jostles him.

“Who’s a good little guy? You are, that’s who. Gonna grow up big and strong like your dad, yeah?” His expression is so tender, so achingly soft, that you feel your heart swell fit to burst.

He’s going to be an incredible father someday, you realize with a jolt of startling clarity. Look at how natural it comes to him, how happy and content he seems, just cradling that silly rock.

Later that night, you find yourself curled around Oscar in bed, trailing feather-light kisses along the line of his throat. He hums deep in his chest, tangling one hand in your hair to tug you closer.

“Mmm, what was that for?”

“Nothing.” You prop your chin on his chest, drinking in the achingly handsome lines of his face. “You just … you’re gonna be such an amazing dad, you know that?”

A bashful smile tugs at his lips as his free hand smooths along the curve of your hip. “Yeah? You really think so?”

“I know so.” You reach out to trace the sharp line of his jaw with one fingertip. “Any kid would be lucky to have you.”

Oscar’s gaze softens to molten gold in the dim light. “Not nearly as lucky as we are to have you. You’re the best mum Rocky could’ve asked for.”

He kisses you then, deep and searing, pulling you flush against him as the world around you falls away. And when he finally breaks away, breathless but beaming, you know without a shadow of a doubt:

Whenever the time comes, whenever you meet your real baby … everything is going to be okay. More than okay.

Because you’ll have Oscar by your side, just like always. Your partner, your best friend, and the love of your life.

***

Five Years Later

You cradle your newborn daughter to your chest, gazing down at her perfect little face in pure wonderment. It’s only been a few hours since she made her entrance into the world, but you’re already hopelessly in love.

“She’s beautiful,” Oscar murmurs, voice thick with unshed tears as he brushes one reverent fingertip along her downy cheek. “Just like her mum.”

You lean into him, overcome. This right here — the two of you and your brand new baby girl — is everything you’ve ever wanted. All those years of loving Oscar, of dreaming about starting a family together … it was all leading to this shining moment.

A soft knock at the door breaks the tranquil silence. Oscar shoots you a quizzical look as a familiar face pokes his head in.

“This a bad time?” Lando grins crookedly. “I come bearing gifts for the little one.”

“Lando!” You can’t help but beam at the sight of your friend. “Get in here, you muppet.”

He slips inside, toeing off his shoes with a cheeky wink in your direction. “Well someone’s in a good mood. Can’t imagine why.”

“Are you kidding? I’m amazing. Completely knackered, but amazing.” You gesture for him to come closer with your free hand. “Here, come meet Oscar’s little co-driver.”

Lando’s expression melts into something unbearably soft as he peers down at the tiny bundle in your arms. “Aww, mate … she’s perfect. Well done, you two.”

“Do you, uh ...” Oscar clears his throat gruffly. “D’you want to hold her?”

For a moment, Lando looks almost scared, like a deer caught in the headlights. Then he nods jerkily, settling into the bedside chair with surprising care as you transfer your daughter into his arms. He cradles her close with the utmost tenderness, rocking her ever so slightly as she lets out the faintest sigh.

“Look at you,” he breathes, sounding utterly besotted already. “Just a teeny little thing, aren’t you?”

It’s like seeing an entirely different side of him, one you never could have anticipated. Not the cheeky, irreverent joker you’ve known for years, but a man, a friend, wholly disarmed by new life and possibility. You exchange a look with Oscar, heart fit to bursting.

“So,” Lando continues, still totally entranced by the baby. “I know we ribbed you mercilessly for a while there about the whole rock baby thing ...”

Your mouth falls open in recollection. “Lando, please don’t-”

But he’s already reaching into his jacket pocket to pull out a familiar splash of textured papaya. “But there’s no way I’d let my favorite nephew miss out on this.”

Rocky, battered and faded but unmistakable, sits nestled in Lando’s palm. You nearly choke on a startled laugh.

“Are you kidding me right now?”

“Hold up, there’s more.” Lando somehow manages to keep cradling the baby with one arm as he bends down with the other, hauling a plastic bucket onto the bed. You gape at the contents — dozens upon dozens of smooth pebbles, each one lovingly decorated in bright shades of orange.

“Had to get the whole family involved, didn’t I?” Lando says with a shameless grin. “She’s got loads of brothers and sisters to look after her now.”

You swat at him in a flood of exasperated affection. “You absolute prick. Look at you, being all sentimental.”

“Me? Never.” But the shine of unshed tears in his eyes contradicts the words. He transfers the baby back to you with exaggerated care, then takes a moment to stroke one gentle finger along her tiny cheek. “You’ve got one hell of a village behind you, little one.”

Over the next short while, Lando pulls up a chair and regales you all with outrageous stories and anecdotes, all while Rocky and his “siblings“ make the rounds, passed from person to person like favorite old friends. At one point, Oscar’s cradling your human baby in one arm and your original baby rock in the other, murmuring nonsense to them both as you blink back tears for what feels like the thousandth time that day.

“Look at you,” you say in awe, drinking in the sight. “My little family.”

Oscar meets your gaze over the top of your daughter’s head, his own eyes shining. “Our family,” he corrects softly.

You’re still reveling in that realization when a quiet knock sounds at the door. A nurse bustles in with an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry, but we’re going to need to move the baby to the nursery soon. Just for a little while to let mum rest.”

Oh. You clutch your daughter closer on instinct, chest caving with an aching reluctance you weren’t expecting. How can you possibly bear to let her go already?

But then Lando slips an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a warm embrace. “Oi, it’s alright. We’ll keep an eye on her for you, yeah? Give Uncle Lando and Mini Piastri some quality time.”

Rocky sits nestled in his other palm, as stalwart and patient as ever even after all these years. You nod quickly, swiping at your damp cheeks as you kiss your daughter’s downy head one last time before relinquishing her to the nurse.

“I’ll be right back, sweet girl. Don’t go growing too much while I’m gone.”

Watching her get wheeled away is harder than you could have imagined, like a physical ache in your chest. Oscar wraps you up in his arms from behind, steadying you with his usual quiet strength.

“She’s okay, babe,” he murmurs, lips brushing your hairline. “She’s just down the hall. We’re not going anywhere.”

You let his soothing words wash over you, turning into his embrace until your breathing evens out again. First lesson of parenthood learned — this part’s not easy. But you’ll get through it, just like everything else, with Oscar by your side.

Rocky sits on the bedside table, bold colors slightly faded but message as bright and clear as ever. A reminder that sometimes, the smallest, silliest things can take on the biggest meaning when it comes to family.

“Alright lovebirds,” Lando pipes up, slinging an arm around each of your shoulders. “What d’you say we bring the whole crew down to see the little miss soon, eh? Give her many uncles a chance to swoon all over her?”

You manage a watery chuckle, leaning into Lando’s side as Oscar tucks himself against your other side. Because this? This little patchwork family you’ve built around yourselves, kept close through all the chaos and the years? This is what it’s all about. The fierce loyalty, the bond forged by adversity and triumph and teamwork. The family you’ve chosen over and over again, year after year, through all of life’s twists and turns.

Your eyes drift to Rocky, resting quietly on the nightstand by your hospital bed. Once an inside joke, a silly gift from your husband to make you smile. Now a treasured heirloom, a precious mascot for the latest member of your ever-expanding clan.

Maybe you’ll hold onto that little rock for another few decades, you muse, draping one arm around Oscar’s trim waist. Long enough for your daughter — and any other little ones who may eventually join her — to grow up passing him between chubby baby fists. Long enough for your grandchildren to gather around and listen to stories about.

“Come on then,” you’ll say with an indulgent smile. “Let Granny tell you the story of Rocky. How he was the very first baby in our little family ...”

***

r/offmychest

u/NumberOneRockHater · 9h

My parents and entire family are convinced a ROCK is my older brother!

Okay, I have to get this off my chest because it’s been driving me crazy for years. My parents and extended family are all obsessed with this rock that they insist is my older brother “Rocky” (ugh, I know).

I’m talking full-on delusion levels here. Ever since before I was born, my dad got my mom this painted rock as a joke “baby”. Well, the joke escalated to the point where they started taking this rock everywhere, dressing it up in little outfits, calling it “him”, the whole nine yards.

At first I thought it was just a weird little quirk, you know? Silly but harmless. Except it never stopped. I’m 16 years old now and my PARENTS STILL REFER TO THIS ROCK AS MY SIBLING.

It’s always “Where’s your brother?” and “Did you pack Rocky’s bag for our trip?” and “Don’t forget to wish your brother a happy birthday!” My uncle (who is the WORST enabler) will show up to every family event pulling more painted rocks out of his pockets like “Look, more kids for you guys!”

Meanwhile I’m just standing there like a crazy person. How is nobody else concerned that my entire family has deluded themselves into believing a literal inanimate object is a sentient being?

And the real kicker? This dumb rock has been passed around and adored more than me, an actual human child. I have clear memories of being like 6 years old and my parents getting legitimately UPSET at me for dropping Rocky on the ground. While I’m standing right there!

My dad loves telling this stupid story about the day I was born, how my uncle showed up at the hospital like “I brought the baby’s siblings!” and pulled out an entire bucket of painted pebbles. PEBBLES, PEOPLE. As my “brothers and sisters”?

I’m honestly losing my mind here. No matter how much I protest or roll my eyes, they always play it off as a silly inside joke. Like yeah, I’m sure getting your knickers in a twist over my lack of acknowledgment for THE ROCK YOU NAMED AND CLAIM IS MY SIBLING is a totally normal thing to do! My mum actually teared up the last time I put my foot down, saying she could never abandon her “firstborn.” Um, hello? I was the firstborn, you weirdos!

At this point, I have to assume that either A) My parents and family are all certifiable and living in a shared psychosis, or B) This is some sort of Truman Show situational prank that I’m not in on.

Is it too late to be adopted by a normal family? Or do I need to be the one committed for dealing with this nonsense?

Please tell me I’m not actually going insane here. Anybody else have a family this completely deluded?

u/NosyAndProud · 8h

LOL no way, your family sounds hilarious! I’m dying at the image of your poor teen self dealing with this ongoing rocky sibling chronicle. But in their defense, you’ve gotta admit it’s a pretty creative way to memorialize a dumb inside joke, right?

My advice? Lean into it. Get your big brother an outfit for the next family gathering. Play fight with “him” in front of your friends and horrify them. TP the house and blame it on Rocky’s delinquent behavior. The possibilities for messing with everyone are endless!

Reply from u/NumberOneRockHater · 6h

I’m honestly crying, your suggestions have me wheezing! Although if I DID embrace this, I’m pretty sure my uncle would lose his mind. He’s already brought enough “rock siblings” for an entire pebble daycare at this point.

u/JudgingLoudly · 7h

This is sending me! I’m just imagining you as a little kid, trying to argue with your parents about why inanimate objects can’t actually be siblings. And them being full-on “Well ackshually, this is Rocky your brother” 🤓☝️

But also lowkey it’s kinda sweet? I mean objectifying nonliving things is usually a bad idea (see every Disney movie ever). But if it’s just a quirky tradition that brings your family joy and makes them feel special, who are we to judge? You only get one weird childhood!

Reply from u/NumberOneRockHater · 5h

Yes, exactly! It was always “But Rocky will be so disappointed if you don’t share your toys with him!” Like … what?

And don’t get me wrong, they’re wonderful parents and we’re a very close, loving family. That’s what makes this particular shared psychosis so baffling! Just a big ol’ collective break from reality to obsess over this stupid rock, I guess.

u/LiveForDrama · 4h

Ok but real talk, I would give ANYTHING to have been a fly on the wall when your uncle first unveiled the “siblings” 💀 I’m picturing this grown man deadass pulling pebbles out of his pockets and ceremoniously announcing “Here’s baby Pumice, and little Granite, and this one is called Basalt ...”

And your parents were just like “Why, HELLO THERE LITTLE ONES! WHAT DELIGHTFUL NEW ADDITIONS TO OUR BROOD!” Just … no questions asked. No commentary on the total insanity. God, I love families.

Reply from u/NumberOneRockHater · 3h

You have NO idea. I still have flashbulb memories of being like 10 years old, walking into the living room to find my GROWN-ASS UNCLE lying on the floor, lining up those idiotic pebbles and introducing them one by one.

Meanwhile my dad is on the couch COOING at them and having full-on conversations like “Isn’t that right, little fella? Your uncle just loves to spoil you, doesn’t he?” MY BRAIN COULD NOT COMPUTE.

u/GlassHalfFull · 2h

Ok, gotta say … as someone raised by very boring, no-nonsense parents, I’m just a lil bit jealous of the sheer unrestrained WHIMSY your family has cultivated here.

Like, you’ll always have this hilarious shared experience to look back on! Sure it’s a rock, but it’s THEIR rock, you know? That’s beautiful in a weird way. At least your childhood wasn’t mind-numbing evenings full of tax documents and khaki pantsuits?

Reply from u/NumberOneRockHater · 1h

Haha, you make a good point! I definitely can’t say my childhood was dull, that’s for sure. Although I do have traumatic memories of losing Rocky at a rest stop when I was 5, and my parents freaking out for hours until we found him under a vending machine. Totally normal.

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ode2rin · 7 months

Text

there sure is never a dull day in your life ever since you somehow bumped your head somewhere and decided to marry gojo satoru.

he was, without a doubt, the most dramatic man you'd ever known.

“why aren’t you obsessed with me?”

and here he goes again making your marriage life comically interesting from his never-ending theatrics that you can’t help but adore.

he isn’t gojo satoru if he wasn’t dramatic, after all. it was all part of the deal, one you gladly accepted, promising to be by his side in sickness and in health.

“good morning to you, too, baby,” you responded, a smile tugging at your lips. “what’s got you worked up this early?”

leaning against the bathroom door frame, his eyes fixed on you as you diligently performed your morning skincare routine. sunlight streamed through the window, casting a soft, warm glow, making your features radiant as you applied your cleanser. and for a moment of sight, he got too lost in your beauty and almost forgot his plan of interrogation.

but still, he needs to get to the bottom of this. “listen, i’m not looking for an argument, just understanding.”

“okay, then,” you said, still attending to your skincare routine. “let’s hear this seeking of understanding.”

gojo’s gaze remained fixed on you as he considered his words carefully, “why aren't you obsessed with me like how i'm obsessed with you?”

“i’m in love with you.” you replied instantly, without a second in waste. because that’s how it has always been, loving gojo satoru and declaring it to the world was as easy as breathing.

you threw a side glance to your lover only to be met with glassy sky blue eyes looking at you and a pout telling you it wasn’t the right answer to the question.

“but you’re not obsessed with me,” he mumbles. “while i think about you every single minute of the day – in my sleep, in my lunch – i think about you, and i don’t think you think about me at all.”

“and where could this be coming from?”

“i was gone for 13 hours, and you only called me once. once, baby. do you even care about me?”

you attempt to explain, “you were on a mission—”

“i could have an injury,” he interjects, “i could have bumped my head somewhere, had amnesia, and forgotten about you.”

you couldn’t help but laugh at the possibilities he laid out just because you only called him once. finishing your skincare with a swift application of lip balm, you make your way to your lover, who is now resting his left temple against the doorjamb while earnestly watching you with the same look in his eyes from when you walked down the aisle.

“i think that’s fairly impossible, though,” you muse. your hands naturally find their way to his neck. “my husband is the strongest.”

strongest in the eyes of sorcerers and curses, perhaps, he is. but here? with you pressed close to him like this? he was nothing of any sort the strongest.

“what your husband right now is not the strongest but an unloved husband who couldn’t get his partner to call him to check on him,” he teases, putting great stress on ‘your’ because he was, in fact, yours.

“aw, must have been hard for him, huh?” you coo, going along with his teasing, “what can i possibly do to make up for it?”

“you can start with a kiss here,” he gestures to his lips, and you gladly oblige with a soft peck.

“too easy. what’s the next step?”

“and i want you to be obsessed with me. call me multiple times a day. text me. email me if you want.”

“okay, done. do you want me to write you a letter as well, like we’re in the '80s?” you sarcastically replied.

“sure, i’d love that,” he says with a chuckle before pulling you close enough to rest your head in the crook of his neck, his jaw resting on your temple as he caresses your back.

you closed your eyes, finding comfort in his warmth, and relishing every soft little kiss planted on your temple, until you felt his head drop onto your shoulder.

“i think about you every second of the day,” he whispers right in your ear.

jokes of being obsessed with you aside, it was truly a confession.

you could be beside gojo, peacefully slumbering, and there would always be that wave of need threading in his chest to be closer to you.

and behind his theatrics, none of his words held any bite of hoax. because after all these years, it still wouldn't sink in to him that there was someone who could take him for a husband.

but you're here – waking up next to him, doing your skincare next to his own set of toiletries, roaming around the house wearing his shirt, gracing the quiet corners of his soul with your laughter.

you're here, and it's everything and more that truly matters.

as you reach to cradle his face in your palms, you feel a squeeze in your chest from how he closes his eyes as if melting in your touch.

“even after all this time? you might get sick of me, my love.” you ask, a smile so evident behind.

“never,” he declares against your lips, a boyish curl of his lips slowly showing. “you, on the other hand, might get sick of me soon. seeing that you couldn't even call me twice after those long hours i wasn't home.”

you playfully roll your eyes at his accusation, of course he wouldn't let it off that easy. “i promise to call you twice and text you as much as i can. how's that sound now?” you hum.

“promise?”

“i promise,” you assure, sealing it with a kiss on the tip of his nose, “and what do you mean, get sick of you? that’s nonsense. i told you right? it’s you for me.”

you for me. oh, how he likes the thought. sheepishly, he whispers in question, “even after all this time?”

“until the end of time, toru.”

until the end of time. oh, heaven and earth, how he loves the thought.

note. i miss him... terribly, i'm afraid. btw, here's a payback for all the angst..

#☁️ my ode to you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru fluff

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jongseongsnudes · 6 months

Text

pretty

bff!jake. 1.6k. smut ft. roommate!jay.

“i- wh- what the actual fuck?”

“i said what i said, let me suck you.”

“you’ve lost it,” the startled man leans away from you, his face contorted from your sudden suggestion, “all that studying finally broke you.”

“god jake,” you roll your eyes and lean forward, almost closing the gap between your bodies entirely, “why are you making it more complicated than it needs to be? i just need to suck your dick for like a minute.”

the poor man’s expression is one that has you immediately in a fit of laughter, confusion, disgust with a hint of arousal, all displayed across his face at the same time.

yes, it was a weird request to make towards your best friend but it’s not like you haven’t done it before. and for some unexplainable, wild reason, sucking his dick always calmed you. especially in times when you were stressed over your head about classes.

like right now.

“who asks their bestfriend shit like this like it’s the most normal thing to do?”

“for the last time. sim jaeyun will you let me suck you off?” you get up from the bed as you say so, arms folded, your tone more of a threat than a question, “you do realise jay is next door, and i’m pretty sure he’d be more than willing to let me suck-”

“okay okay! for fucks sakes suck me then! no need to bring out the government name.”

your hand is already at his thigh before he could even finish his sentence, immediately palming him through his sweat pants. with an accomplished grin on your face, you kneel down in between his spreaded legs on the floor, your eyes never once leaving his as you do so. it’s something you know for a fact jake likes you doing, giving him that full attention, like he’s the only thing that mattered to you in the moment.

“fuck- why do you do this shit to me?” he whispers, his voice much lower than before. he watches you through lidded eyes, his gaze entirely on your new submissive position in front of him, “you’re so evil.”

“and you love it, jake.”

the way his dick twitches in your hand to the call of his name only excites you more, further pushing you to get a move on. so you do just that, pulling off his pants and boxers down to his ankles in one quick motion before grabbing onto his member.

the man’s deep groans instantly fill the room as you begin to jerk him painfully slow, your evil self enjoying the situation a little too much. you can’t help but pout when you notice the way his clutch on the bedsheets tightens because it should be your hair he’s gripping. not the damn bedsheets.

“c- come on don’t tease.”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about...” lies. you knew exactly what you were doing, and to make things worse for him, you decide to lean in closer to his leaking tip. but obviously not close enough.

the frustrated sigh that emits from his throat is hard to miss, the sound making you chuckle a little to yourself.

he’s so desperate for you, just like how you wanted him to be.

“you’re so hard jake... look at you.”

“i swear to god- oh shit!”

your lips pressing onto his tip is enough to have him in a puddle, his words no longer coherent. it makes you feel good to be able to make jake turn into such a mess, without having to do much at all.

“you enjoy doing this to me don’t you?” there’s a sudden change in his eyes, his gaze dark and serious as he reaches out to grab the back of your neck, holding you still in place to look at him, “you’re such a brat.”

if there’s one thing you’ve learnt about jake over the years, is that the man is a big softie when it comes to you, always letting you have your way no matter how ridiculous it is.

but the only times jake will not let you have your way are times like these. it’s as if something switches in him, going from soft to dominant all in two seconds when you push the right buttons.

when you were bratty.

and god was this jake hot.

“jake...”

“you were all talk before,” he taunts, a smirk forming on the end of his lips, “go on. show me what that mouth can do besides shit talk.”

and you didn’t need to be asked twice, especially not by jake sim.

your mouth quickly wraps around his hard on, barely managing to take half of it before you can feel it hit the back of your throat. although you’ve done this numerous times before, jake’s size always managed to surprise you.

no more words are needed, the room now filled with his grunts and the sound of you slobbering all over his dick. you know you should be embarrassed by your noises, but you’re not, your only goal now was to please the man.

often enough, you’d imagine how good it’d feel to have him fuck you with it. making you feel good, making you cum.

it was so wrong to have such fantasies about your best friend but every time you’re in bed with your hands down your pants, there’s no one else you’d rather think of but jake sim.

tears begin to form in the corners of your eyes as you continue moving your head, sucking on his length like your life depended on it. hard and fast, edging the man closer and closer towards his release.

his tightened grip on the back of your neck tells you that he’s close. so you do what you do best, grabbing onto his base with both your hands, stroking it in sync with your mouth.

“f- fuck- i’m gonna-” he mumbles while trying to pull your head away but you don’t budge, hinting for him continue on. and he does just that, finishing deep in your mouth, his cum slowly dripping out the corners of your lips as you pull away.

he tastes bitter, the vast amount a little hard to swallow but you manage nonetheless. the sight of you struggling has the man smirking, obviously loving the way you look with his mess dripping down onto your top.

“you look so pretty like this.”

“pretty only like this? wow you’re such a gentleman sim.”

“no,” he chuckles before pulling you up, your body slightly falling onto his at the force. his arms are quick to stable you, literally manhandling you to straddle over his lap in which you were more than happy to do, “you’re always pretty. the prettiest.”

your heart unknowingly skips a beat to his sudden compliment, as if you didn’t just suck him off and as if there wasn’t a massive cum stain on your top. you knew jake had a way with his words when it came to the ladies but this? this wasn’t what you were expecting him to say, not to you, his best friend.

“what?” he laughs, his hands already at the ends of your top, hastily pulling it over without hesitation, “where did that bratty mouth of yours go?”

“jake...” you whimper at the coldness hitting your skin, the sensation making you hard inside your bra.

“shit. you’re perfect.”

he yanks on your hair as he says so, pulling your head back so he could attack the exposed skin on your neck. you’re already a moaning mess at this point, the feeling of his lips on your sensitivity, one that has you seeing white all over.

“you don’t like it when i’m nice but prefer it when i’m like this?” his grip in your hair tightens more, making you whimper out in surprise, much to his liking. you could feel him smiling into your skin, as if pleased by your reaction to his actions.

the man is being rough and as sick as it was, you were enjoying every second of it.

“you even sound pretty, i wonder what you’d sound like if i were to fuck you,” jake’s voice is one you’ve never heard from him before, raspy and deep. even deeper than his morning voice, which you’ve always found so fucking hot already.

“do you want me to fuck you?”

“god yes jake, please.”

you never understood why you and jake hadn’t fucked yet. you’ve sucked his dick, given him handjobs and he has fingered you here and there. but that’s all it ever got to. despite the oh-so-obvious sexual tension that always followed you both aound, you two just didn't fuck.

“as much as i want to hear you, you have to try to be quiet tonight,” his lips makes its way towards yours, leaving behind a trail of gentle kisses on your skin, “jay is next door-”

“maybe you should’ve thought of that 30 minutes ago, when i was sleeping. too late now.”

and to your horror, there standing at jake’s opened door is his handsome roommate jay who looked like he was about to burn the apartment down with his glare alone. the man’s unkempt hair and boxers-only outfit tells you perhaps he had been sleeping, which made you feel awful for being so loud just now.

but despite his glares, you noticed one other thing. it’s that he’s looking directly at you, at your barely covered chest, like he had been the entire time he was standing there.

fuck.

end.

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claypgeons · 9 days

Text

rumor spreader?

pairing: max verstappen x reader, charles leclerc x reader, lando norris x reader, oscar piastri x reader (platonic or poly? you decide…)

summary: you loved spreading rumors, about everything and everyone. it was just about time someone caught on.

notes: mentions of drugs, fluff, my oscar bias shines in this, pls send requests!!

“So..” the interviewer drew out, focusing her eyes on you and you only. You, Max, Charles, Lando, and Oscar were all sitting on a long gray couch, Lando and Oscar on your left, Max and Charles on your right.

You were doing one of the many jobs that came with being a formula one driver, interviews. You didn't really mind interviews, they were mostly fun, and it was better than the long and boring meeting you had most weeks. Although you would normally conduct interviews with your team partner, or even alone, it seems like this time they decided to switch things up.

“We have heard from a little birdy, that you, Y/N are quite the troublemaker?” The men around you instantly started getting rowdy, all loudly chiming in with their own agreements.

You laughed, distracting the men around you, stracking your arm with a smile, “Depends on what you're referring to...”

“Rumors.” was all the interviewer had to say behind the camera before you completely burst out laughing, leaning back and knocking into Charles hand. The men around you looked confused, not exactly knowing what the interviewer was referring to.

Calming down, you looked around at the men with a smile, “So this is where it ends.” you huff, ignoring Oscars (adorable) confused face.

“I take it the little birdy was correct?” the interview grinned, clearly happy to get this new and exclusive content for his bosses.

“Yes. The little birdy was correct.” You sighed, looking up at the camera in faux shame. “I am Y/N L/N, and I am addicted to spreading rumors.”

You didn't need to look around to know the boys next to you were looking at you in shock. “Care to elaborate?” Charles suggested, looking at you with a small smile.

You wiped your hands nervously over your pants, knowing this whole conversation could lead you to so much trouble. “There's not much to say..” you laughed once more, this time with nerves, “I just like to spread rumors.” You leaned back into the couch with a shrug.

But of course, the boys were not going to let this down so quickly, “No, no.” Lando shook his head, sitting up, “I’d like to hear more about this.”

“I would too.” Max chimed in, leaning forward. Oscar and Charles, were quick to also agree, but you still didnt know how to start.

“What's the biggest rumor you've spread?” The interviewer chimed in, and your eyes instantly shifted over to Max, whose eyes widened, “Is it about me?” he questioned shocked, Lando laughed loudly.

“I’ll only say it if you promise you won't get mad at me.” You started, cautiously.

Max tilted his head, unsure. “C’mon Max,” Lando smirked, “I think we all need to hear this. Right Oscar?”

“Yeah, Mate.” Oscar laughed, “I'm at the edge of my seat here.”

After a few seconds, Max agreed, you shut your eyes in shame. Whispering, “I accidentally! Started a rumor that you..took coke before each race.”

Instantly Lando burst out in complete laughter, falling on the ground, and leaning on your knees. “Jesus Christ…” he giggled, laughing even louder by the second. You shamefully opened your eyes, making contact with a completely shocked Oscar, who looked like he was trying to keep it together, before you looked over to Charles and Max who both looked equally confused.

“I.. don't understand.” Charles frowned, “Coke?”

“You know like..” you reached up and covered one nostril, before snorting upward, “Coke, coke.”

All at once it hit the two men, Charles laughed even louder than Lando, who was slowly getting back up to his seat, although Max didn't seem equally amused. “You did what..” he spoke slowly.

You instantly jumped in to defend yourself, “I swear it was an accident!”

“How does one accidently..” Oscar smiled at you sweetly, “Start a rumor like that?”

“I was talking to some interns, when they brought up Max’s incredibly winning numbers,” you tried to get Max to smile, but it wasn't working, “When I, as a joke, said, ‘Maybe it's because he does coke before the races.’ Again Lando burst into laughter, with a huff, you punched his thigh hard, “I thought it was funny! And they laughed, so I thought they thought it was funny too!”

Max sighed out your name, placing his head into his hands disappointedly, “It wasn't until like three days later, that I heard other interns talking about the..coke situation. But I shut it down, I swear!” you huffed, never liking to see Max mad at you.

Deciding to derail the conversation, the interview asked, “What other rumors have you started.”

“Well I once told like half of the Mclaren team that Lando had peed himself during a meeting.”

“You did WHAT?” Lando turned to you with his mouth wide open, his face bright red, all trace of amusement gone.

“Not so funny when it's you, is it Lando?” Max smiled.

“And I told a bunch of people that Charles hated me.”

“Now why would you do that?” Charles sighed, placing his hand over yours, you shrugged, “I was bored.”

“Oh, and I told like ten people that I was a gambling addict.” You rolled your eyes, “That one didn’t spread as much as I wanted it to.”

“No rumors about Oscar?” the interviewer quipped.

“No, no.” You turned to Oscar, who was staring at you with his puppy dog eyes, “Never Oscar, he’s too sweet.”

“And I'm not?” Lando frowned, looking around in offense.

“No.”

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