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#fucking talk to me too i already kind of had it and i dont want more
angels-fantasy · 3 days
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On my lady days soooo
Bakubaby period comfort?
Comforting You On Your Period
Katsuki Bakugou x Reader
Details: reader has a period, umm just talks avout cramps and stuff
Word Count: 469
IM SO FUCKING PISSED BC I LITERALLY JUST WROTE A WHOLE THING FOR THIS AND THEN IT FUCKING DELETED i dont even wanna write it anymore but im still going to especially bc my sweet dear asked for it 😼 and im also on my period #bloodsisters
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you groaned as you lied in a fetal position on your bed, clutching your stomach. cramps were your worst enemy right now, especially since they were making it hard to even move, but that's why you had katsuki.
you heard him walk into the room and place something on the nightstand next to your bed. he sat down next to you on the bed and rubbed your shoulder, "i brought you some ibuprofen and water. sit up so you can take it."
you groaned more, "but it hurts..."
"but if you take it then it won't hurt."
well, he had a good point there.
you cursed him internally and sighed, forcing yourself to sit upright. he handed you a few pills and a glass of water to drink them with.
after you did so, you placed the glass back on your nightstand and went back to lay down but you were stopped by your boyfriend.
"hey if you're gonna lay down you can't fall asleep. you need to eat something with the medication, so i'm gonna go get you something. what do you want?" he asked.
you wanted to be upset at him for not letting you rot away in bed, but he was going to bring you food so it was okay. you told him what you wanted to eat and he nodded, leaning down to give you a kiss on your head which made you smile.
"you're such a sap."
"shut up."
a moment later he came back with the food you requested and you sat up slowly, accepting it from him happily. you pat the spot in bed next to you, "come sit with me, kats. we can watch tv together."
he did as you said and sat next to you, putting on the movie you requested to watch. you'd been watching this movie on repeat for the past week which would annoy him if it was anyone else, but it was you, so it was okay.
while you munched on your food you began to feel better and finally felt some relief from your pain. you leaned against katsuki, "thank you for taking care of me."
"'s no problem." he said, leaning into you too. the two of you embraced each other for a while until you felt your food-coma begin to hit and you slowly laid back down, bringing him with you.
"let's just-" you yawned, "take a nap..." you said, already half asleep. katsuki laughed softly and pulled you into his chest, rubbing your back as you slept.
sometimes he wondered if he was doing an okay job at attending to your needs, especially because he knew he was more of a 'tough love' kind of person. but moments like these helped reassure himself that he was doing a pretty decent job.
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authors note
sigh
im still mad that the first version got deleted smh but WHATEVER i just need to go to sleep. if theres any mistakes or stuff that doesnt make sense pls lmk because im literally half asleep right now lolol kay goodnight!
taglist for bakugou fics: @doumadono @shonen-brainrot @b134ch-m4h-ey3z
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trashbaget · 1 month
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tell me your failed/embarrassing flirting stories to make me feel better, i’ll go first: today i said “get out of my way” forgot to say “i’m kidding” then immediately said “bye”
#it is awful having feelings for someone you know and have an established friendship with#but crushing on someone i barely know is knew to me and i legit feel like an idiot every time i do something stupid like this#i can’t just. talk to the guy#if i say hey and he says sup i say ‘sup indeed’ like what the fuck is that#i can barely even say hello to him#don’t get me wrong i’ve DONE it but most days i’m like#ah fuck there he is#okay you can do it just say hi#just say what’s up#and then he’s already gone#also. like. the setting we’re in is soooo not good for talking or flirting realt because um. it’s work he’s my coworker.. so um. do i fuckin#ask him for his number?? or to hang out??? but like. he’s kind of a stranger to me what do i want to hang out for 🧍#but like. ​i dont want to do that until i have at least one successful interaction#or like. an actual conversation.#which is gonna be really hard to manage because he doesn’t talk much at all to anyone and i really only talk if someone talks to me first or#i’ll say something absolutely idiotic and ridiculous (and honestly i do that no matter what)#anyway so um. i guess i’m just gonna keep making a fool of myself until i get it right and hopefully i don’t screw it up 🥴#i lost all my confidence in the last year and i cant do anything chill or smooth anymore (i was never that good in the first place but at#least i could PRETEND i knew what i was doing. like i could sell it. the whole weird and lost bit.)#anyway. i felt better for like 5 minutes when some guy at the gas station flirt failed with me on the way home. but that’s partly my fault#too oops. in his defense he probably could not see that i had headphones on bc upon mirror inspection they were well blended with my hair#but i was waiting to cross the street and this guy tried to like nod and smile and i did not know it was to me until i got to the other side#where the gas station was and and like. tried again and i awkward half smiled and saw his face get all mushy and confused like mine FELT 20#mins before when i’d flopped so hard trying to flirt and by the time i’d processed WAIT i think he was FLIRTING WITH ME i was already gone 🤡#but at least it ended better than the poor 14yo who very confidently asked for my number#who. i shit you not. SCREECHED for a solid 44.5 seconds and bolted the other direction when i said sorry im 21#his friends were standing there like wtf too and one was like i am so sorry about him 🤦#cheers to being fools universe
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anaalnathrakhs · 2 months
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uh oh i feel like i have a deeply maladaptative response to people knowing Literally Anything about me it's fine it's fine i'm handling it very well
#constantly daydreaming about throwing my phone in the river n leaving a nice note for my parents and fucking LEAVING#but like#if i just stop talking to my friends#then what's the point#do i make new friends? will i do the same shit to my new friends?#it feels like kind of a dick move to do that to people i like#and i DO like them#i like hanging out w them and just. i don't know. i feel like this freedom i dream of is something i could have in this life yknow.#i feel if i had balls i could just start living the life i want#it's not even like my parents are dicks or something they trust me and they've very understanding and loving#they wouldn't judge me for how i dress or be mad if i stay out late as long as i warn them#but i dont know. i dont know why i'm a massive fucking weirdo about it okay.#but i've caused them so much trouble already. i feel like i'm betraying them if i grow up.#i feel like i'm causing them too much worry no matter if i stray away from the nest or stay.#and i feel like a fucking monster for not loving them enough but i can't stand being near them anymore#it's too painful#i've never managed to completely hate them even when i was deep in depression and they handled it poorly#i'd get into a screaming match with my dad and an hour later we'd sing songs together in the car#but it's been so dull lately. it feels like im in a video game. picking prewritten dialogue and being fed prewritten answers.#and WHY does this happen. why can't i just have a normal relationship with people#why do i turn into an alien on his first day on earth whenever i start caring abt someone#why are we so fucking abnormal as a family that we never goddamn hang out#why am i such an empty husk of a person that i cannot for the life of me figure out something we could do together#i keep believing in this fantasm of one day changing everything in one fell swoop instead of growing up like a normal guy#because i know i'm a coward. i'm scared of other people seeing me fail.#i dont want to hurt my parents ever again and i dont want to settle for halfway freedom#so i repress hardcore things i want so that nobody not even me can decipher what it is#smth smth the enormity of my desire disgusts me#and of course it fails because im weakshit and cannot restrict anything ever#and i hurt them anyway
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toastsnaffler · 6 months
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i keep getting irrationally miffed at ppl 😐😐
#'impressed by how much u can talk abt this considering youve not played either game'#fuck off. as if im not just trying to show interest bc u + another friend are both into them + constantly talk abt them in our gc!!#i mean since u guys talk abt them all the time + theyre huge on tumblr like. it would be hard for me to not know anything abt them at all#literally what else can i talk to u guys abt anyway. i dont think there are any interests i personally have that they both gaf abt#if anything they actively dislike most of the things im hyperfixated on. or at least she does so like i cant bring that up can i.#all i did was share a post i saw on tumblr that i thought was funny. its not like i had some negative/controversial opinion#i just saw it and thought hey that makes me think of my friends bc they like those things maybe theyll find it funny too!!#dog sitting outside the door with rly big sad eyes offering them a stick i found in a puddle#i like listening to them talk and i will eventually play some of the games theyre into myself cuz they make them sound rly cool#and even if theyre not my kind of thing i like sharing interests with other ppl and sometimes thats enough for me to be able to enjoy it#i literally own some of them already but im just not in the mental space to start smth new right now. which i have SAID!!!!#why do u even care girl. as if u dont already have a ton of friends playing it that ur talking to abt it???? i wont have anything to add#and thats not gonna stop u from being able to talk to me abt it anyway????? like 2/3 of our conversations atm are abt bg3#man. i know its not that deep but it makes me kinda sad for some reason. im just trying. i guess next time ill just let u guys talk-#to each other or at me and not comment or say anything so u can pretend im not here or whatever it is u want#ughh. she probably didnt even mean it like that and ill feel stupid for getting annoyed and delete this later but whatever.#might work out early today and then i can like draw or play a game or smth the rest of the day. alright lets go#.vent#listening to my silly little jfunk/jazz/soul playlist and i already feel over it. healing
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dirt-str1der · 2 years
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Sagawa is unfuckable in my head but in my heart he and nishitani had something embarrassing going on
#Listen to my problems#actually i transsexualise characters in yakuza based on one simple rule: if majima wants to hit then its a 65% that the guy is trans (if he#DESPERATELY wants to hit then its a 100% chance the guy is trans) the percentage rule doesnt apply to girls because majima doesnt believe#in unattractive girls (and shes right)#i will never date an ugly girl. why ? because ugly girls dont exist#let me get to the heart of my post anyway . i was randomly assigning cooler genders to yaluza characters when i actually looked at my list#and was like ... this ... this is !!!! majimas fuckit list !!! and theres already two dead guys on it. too ass#ill make it clearer actually sagawa being majimas handler does act a bit possessive and intimate towards him but he holds zero desire in his#heart for the poor boy even if he had to handfeed him for a while and it was super sad but majima on the other hand absolutely cannot#control where his dick compass swings and starts lusting after the guy more than twice his age plus he just got ‘rescued’ by sagawa <- its#just a simple passing of the leash from shimano to sagawa though and majima Knows this logically that hes completely forgotten how to act li#ke a human being and this is really dumb and he really shouldnt but hes extremely susceptible to his wild imagination and nightmares combo w#here hes trapped in a maze of his own libidio and trauma and against his will sagawa gets his sex engine roaring even though he hates the gu#y and thinks he sucks and it Really doesnt help that sagawa knows and lets majima know hes politely pretending hes not getting hard#stop reading btw im going to start talking about my creature of the night au wh actully no im not actually yes i am#but since majima goes wolfmode every full moon and he though his memories are foggy he can still Remember. and sagawa fucking loves animals#and a wolf is no different he really has a soft spot for wolfjima and spoils him a bit and majima gets trained against his will and itswired#deep enough to bleed over into his subconscious even when hes human and can remember that he hates sagawa but its hard to actually... hurt#him especially since in this au majima fucking bit him and sagawa let it slide. like he nearly got his arm torn off and had to wear a cast#for months and he never once blamed majima for it (soft spot strikes again) despite everything and despite how awful he is majima kind of#realises that sagawa (in his own way) is acting with majimas ‘best interests’ in mind <- extremely subjective statement#the thing is that he really respects him for that and trusts him not to pull the trigger on him when he doesnt ‘deserve’ it
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arolesbianism · 28 days
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Every now and then I remember that oni in fact will eventually have more lore added and I get so excited and scared for a moment and then I remember that it could take months until we see any of that and I proceed to forget abt it again and the cycle repeats
#rat rambles#oni posting#now it does sadden me a smidge that itll probably be in paid dlc but thats a problem for future me#the bright side of new lore is new lore#the downside of new lore is the eternal fear of canon jackie and olivia designs#not because Im opposed to them getting canon designs its just so scary#like what if klei made them white how would I move forward from that#and its not even a situation where I can say with any level of confidence if they would or not because god if I fucking know#like they have until very recently seemingly deliberately avoided including anything Too lore relevant in any animated trailers#but that can kind of just be explained by well. the fact that most of those updates didn't include any lore.#and those that do involve it stay strictly in the dupes perspective#so I can't rly use that as any sign that theyre deliberately avoiding giving olivia and jackie canon designs#I would highly prefer they dont get designs even without fear of designs I dislike mostly because narratively it just works better that way#but hey its not up to me so whatever happens happens#I mostly assume future lore is going to mostly relate to the dupe donors we havent met yet and elaborating on some of the ones we have seen#but dont see a lot of if anything at all#I hope they dont mess with jackie and olivia too much but I do think itd be nice to give jackie just a smidge more like Ive talked abt#and other than that I could see them adding maybe new story traits and if they're feeling real generous more dupe lore#oh and if we're mega lucky we could get a dr.holland first name#honestly I hope that for dr.holland specifically they either just do a hard name drop and move on or just dont touch him#rly my main concern with any added oni lore is I Really dont want them to start telling us too much#I really really like all of our information being very fragmented and unclear as it adds to the post end of the world vibe rly well#and this is in fact a problem that they had in older versions of the story that they seemingly went out of their way to solve#so I rly want to have faith that they wont fuck it up but I have been burned before and oni has yet to have fully earn my trust#its not far off tho just the scrapped logs themselves give me faith that they are aware what story theyre writing and what needs done#again the scrapped logs are cool but would have dampened the narrative quite significantly from how straight forward they are#so them being full one scrapped early on makes me hopeful that they realized that too#rly I just dont want too much expansion on the stuff we already know#some names and work ids would be splendid and Im all for new fragments to try to place in the timeline#I just dont want a log where nikola stares at the camera and monologues abt the duplicant project or smth
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faultsofyouth · 6 months
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I haven't eaten a pizza lunchable since I was 16 and I threw up an entire undigested one (3 distinct pizza crusts) while I was on acid
#my posts#that acid trip sucked#for one thing the only person i was tripping with was my 23 year old coworker who i didnt know very well#my actual friend was supposed to trip sit me but all he did was blare super overstimulating lights and music that i didnt like#and then when his gf (also my bestie) showed up she was in a bad mood so he spent the rest of the trip talking to her and ignoring us#and then because she was in a bad mood she and him decided that they should fuck with me and tell me how mad they were at me#because months before that they came into my house uninvited to look for acid that they didnt tell me they were sending to my house#and because they came over uninvited the only person home was my MOM who doesnt like acid and was not okay with having it in her house#so then my mom found out that they were shipping drugs to my house and wanted to call the cops on them#so 5 hours later i got home from work to discover all this and so then i had to tell them they cant send drugs to my house or my mom will#call the police on them. and unbeknownst to me they were both already on acid so then they started freaking out about getting arrestes#arrested**. and somehow it was all MY fault that they had a bad trip. because i told them that they werent allowed to ship drugs to my house#and that my mom was pissed at them for lying to her and to me. so then they decided to take revenge the next time i was tripping and they#werent??? u know. ive never thought about that too hard before now. but that was kind of shitty friend behavior all around#like first they do something super illegal but be sure to use My address so they dont get in trouble for it if the drugs got caught#and then they got mad at Me for setting a boundary and then decided to Punish me for setting that boundary at a time when they were too high#to be handle it. all at a time when they knew i wasnt staying at my parents house because my stepdad had threatened me#(while my bestie was there to Witness) so i was highly dependent on them for a sense of security#and they knew that and they thought it would be funny to fuck with me anyway???#okay but then after that i stole her boyfriend so i guess all is fair in love and war
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blue-jisungs · 3 months
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making up with them after a fight ♡
author's note. minho’s one is so relatable to me i hate it sm :(( like idk sometimes i don’t wanna be touched but i have struggles wording it out and im afraid ill hurt someone w my reaction… <\\3 sigh… yeah, can u tell it’s self indulgent?
warnings. yn falls asleep in a bathtub,, pls dont do that!!!, cursing, lmk if i missed anything
this is a continuation to fighting with them!!
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┆彡 CHAN [ 찬 ]
you woke up in your and chris’ bed, which made your stomach turn. he must have brought you here.
suddenly sitting up, you noticed your boyfriend is absent. did he leave…?
jumping out of the bed you rushed to living room and were relieved to see him in the kitchen.
however, guilt washed over you upon seeing him so… lifeless, hurt.
“hi” you whispered, clutching your shirt. chan looked at you and smiled softly, nodding his head.
“morning. there’s some coffee for you, breakfast will be done in a few minutes” he hummed and returned his gaze to the pan.
“chan, listen… i’m sorry i snapped at you yesterday. yes, i was tired but…” you hesitated, voice cracking “that’s not an excuse, really”
“i’m just worried, y/n” he said and his features softened.
“i know, i know” you hung your head low, afraid that tears will escape any second “it’s just… work has been shit lately and it’s draining me emotionally and physically… and i just…”
“hey, hey. it’s okay. i understand it. that’s why i’m here, right? to help you. but to help you, i need to know first” chan walked up to you, wrapping his arms around you. this warm, secure hug made you feel at ease “but i won’t be able to know if we don’t talk”
“i know… i’m so, so sorry. for snapping and for acting like an asshole… i’m sorry channie” you cried, pouring your heart out.
“i forgive you, y/n. i already did. let’s just treat this as a lesson, okay?” chan soothed you gently “let it out, baby. i’m here”
┆彡 MINHO [ 민호 ]
you and minho became distant. you began touching and kissing him less, head overflowing with worries each time when physical contact involved. eventually, you stopped. you just greeted him in the morning or after work.
and minho hated this.
he knew it was his fault because he snapped you. and if he didn’t do anything about it, your relationship might be on a thread... if it wasn't already.
so one day, when you woke up… you felt a soft kiss being pressed to your arm. you smiled gently to yourself, trying to remain calm. what is he scheming…?
"y/nnie… i’m sorry"
you turned around, frowning. lino’s eyes softened but there was a glint of sadness in them.
"i snapped at you when i had a bad day already. and… it was one of those days when i just don’t want to be touched, even by you. it- it sounds so idiotic but i promise you, it’s not your fault…" minho started and you bit your lip. your hands ached to cup his face and– "i can see you’re thinking about it. it’s fine, i’m fine. no, actually i’m not. i missed your touch and kisses so so much. and i feel like an idiot because i’ve brought it on me but above all…”
he hesitated and tapped your finger. you nodded, granting him permission to hold you. in an instant, he shuffled closer and wrapped his arms tightly around you.
"i’m sorry i made you feel like that. i can’t even imagine how you must have felt, thinking if ill snap at you today too… im so… fucking… sorry… " minho’s voice broke off and you felt his body shiver.
"it’s okay, min. i forgive you, don’t feel guilty. just tell me next time, okay? i understand that on some days you’re feeling like you don’t want to be touched, i respect that" you hummed into his skin, drawing shapes "just tell me"
"i will" minho smiled softly, heart warming because of your words, kindness, and touch.
┆彡 CHANGBIN [ 창빈 ]
with a shaking hand you dialed changbin’s number, looking at the droplets falling in front of you. he picked up instantly.
"hello, baby?" he asked, concern in his voice. you took a deep breath, trying to control your breaking voice slightly at least.
"you… um, you were right…" you mumbled, sniffling.
silence fell and you were expecting an 'i told you so' or 'see?' but none of that happened.
"i’m sorry, pretty. i swear, next time i see them somewhere i’ll talk to them. i’ll pick you up, hm?" changbin asked and even though you knew he didn’t see, you nodded. your heart felt light that you didn’t fight again.
"i… um, i’m sorry. for being so defensive about them but… i was in the wrong…" a soft sigh left your lips and you heard a loud 'yah!' causing you to move your phone away for a bit.
"don’t apologize. i’m the one who should say sorry, truly. i just didn’t want you to get hurt again but… i took it to far, i said some messed up shit. sorry" chanbin’s voice was gentle and then suddenly you heard a honk. eyes widening, you saw his car "also i may or may not have already been waiting here…"
"dumbass” you scoffed, wiping your tears and going to his car with a smile.
┆彡 HYUNJIN [ 현진 ]
hyunjin entered the house, frowning upon the silence. your shoes were on the floor, dirty dishes in the sink, some miscellaneous items scattered around the living room.
"y/n?" he called out. no answer.
you weren’t in the bedroom either. hyunjin, growing anxious, opened the bathroom door.
he saw you sleeping in the tub, head almost barely above the water.
"yah, dumbass!" he yelped and dragged you a bit up, safe enough but still in the water. your eyes opened lazily, gaze unfocused.
"huh?" you blinked at him and saw genuine worry on his face.
"you fell asleep in the tub, y/n. i got so scared" he sighed, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. he noticed your eye bags and it hit him like a truck: sure, dancing is his profession and he gets tired. but you, as a cleaning lady move as much as him and have to deal with other - usually assholes - people. you must be exhausted, even more than him.
then his gaze shifted to various scratches and bruises on your arms. you noticed it and smiled softly.
"it’s nothing, you know how clumsy i am. today i knocked over a broom and it hit my arm… it was kinda funny actually" you grinned but only saw sadness behind his eyes "hyune?"
"i… the thing i said the other day… i don’t mean it. i don’t think you’re just a cleaning lady, i shouldn’t say anything like this. and, it’s a bit stupid, but i realized just now… that at the end of the day, you’re probably as tired as me" he mumbled, voice small. you nodded, grabbing his hand.
"i won’t lie, what you said hurt me. but… i get it, you were tired and i got on your nerves–" you started.
"but i shouldn’t have bursted like that. let me take care of you now, hm? do you want me to wash your hair?" hyunjin asked, a cute smile finally blooming on his lips. you nodded energetically, causing him to giggle and place a tender kiss atop your head before proceeding to wash your hair.
┆彡 JISUNG [ 지성 ]
when he left the party, glad to finally be out… someone grabbed his arm. he turned around and saw beomgyu.
"what?" jisung grunted, looking at the stranger.
"dude, i don’t know what’s your problem but me and y/n were literally talking about you" beomgyu said, letting go of his arm "besides, i’m taken"
jisung wanted to snarl 'so what?' but the sudden reality hit him: he threw a tantrum like a spoiled brat and almost went home without you. beomgyu scanned his face suspiciously, seeing the gears turn in jisung’s head.
"y/n loves you, i can see it in the way her face lits up when she speaks about you" beomgyu said and shrugged, adding before leaving "thought i’d just let you know"
jisung went back, looking for you. it turned out you stayed outside, gazing into the sky.
"um, hi" he mumbled, sitting down next to you. you didn’t reply "i’m… sorry"
"that was fast" you teased, bitterness shining through your voice.
"beomgyu walked up to me. i acted like an idiot, i know. i was just… jealous, i guess" jisung murmured almost incoherently, shy about his feelings. you turned around and sent him a sky smirk.
"you were what?"
jisung rolled his eyes playfully.
"i was jealous, are you happy?" he repeated louder.
"it’s fine. just… don’t yell at me. and let me finish, for god’s sake. if you listened what i had to say, you’d know that we were discussing which guitar i should buy you as a gift" you explained and saw his eyes widen. you couldn’t possibly stay mad any longer at this boba-eyed quokka.
┆彡 FELIX [ 필릭스 ]
there was a doorbell echoing through the living room and you sent your friend a puzzled look. she shrugged and went to open the door.
"oh… y/n, it’s felix" she turned around and sent you a pitiful look. you just sighed, nodding. she let him in, scanning him head to toe threateningly, and left to her bedroom to give you some privacy.
"how did you know i’m here?" you asked, eyes avoiding his.
"(friend name) added a picture to the story that you’re here… so… um… i grabbed those and flew"
finally looking up, you noticed the bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand. felix handed you them and sat down next to you on the couch, hesitantly tapping his fingers on his thigh. he wanted to hold your hand but wasn’t sure if you wanted to right now.
"i’m a bad boyfriend, aren’t i? even seungmin knew you were fired" he sighed with a sad smile "i’m so sorry. there’s nothing that could… be an excuse"
you took his hand in yours, humming in thought.
"will you work on it? i missed you. i know work is busy but at least talk to me, eat breakfasts with me… if we don’t work it out, i’m afraid–" your voice broke, not even wanting to say those words.
felix hugged you tightly, holding you as close as possible.
"i know. i will work on it, i promise. i’ll try to clear my schedule and we can go on a trip to jeju maybe?" he mumbled into your shoulder.
he just got a last chance and he wasn’t going to blow it.
┆彡 SEUNGMIN [ 승민 ]
returning home after three days, you entered the house only to see seungmin sleeping on the couch. the place was neatly cleaned, not even a single dirty spot in sight.
"oh, you’re back" seungmin murmured drowsily, leaning on his elbows "how was the stay?"
"good. why are you sleeping in the couch?" you asked, walking up to the fridge to put in the food your mom gave you. to your surprise, it was full with fresh groceries.
"i… uh, couldn’t really sleep well without you. i also have a thought about what i said and… listen, y/n, i’m sorry" he said "i really like your parents, i really do. i was just tired and… i don’t know what it’s like, that’s true. i didn’t consider your and their feelings… and i just hope your parents don’t hate me now because i’ll cry"
"i think they love you more than me at this point, my mom kept asking about you" you smiled softly, relieved to hear that you made wrong assumptions.
"just tell me a bit earlier if we’re going next time, okay?" he asked and you nodded with a happy grin "besides, it was lonely here without you"
┆彡 JEONGIN [ 정인 ]
"dude, what the fuck?" changbin asked, standing frozen. jeongin frowned "you were supposed to text eunjeong only to get the info about the cake, nothing more!"
that was true – they wanted to make you a surprise party because you passed your exams and eunjeong works in one of the best bakeries in the town, so they figured it’d be the best to text her.
"i got distracted… i didn’t know y/n would make such a fuss out of it" jeongin grunted and opened his phone to see your location on 'my friends'. he bit his lip, sudden realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. if he found out you were texting your ex… he wouldn’t be pleased about it either.
"what are you waiting for? go after her! and don’t spoil the surprise, too!" changbin pushed him out of the dorm.
in no time jeongin caught up with you, grabbing your hand. you turned around, wet stains on your cheeks. he felt a sharp sting in his heart upon realizing it’s his fault.
"listen… i didn’t mean any of that. but i need you to trust me" jeongin said, squeezing your hand. you hesitated.
"why? i trust you i just… don’t trust her" you mumbled, wiping your cheek.
"i know, i’m sorry. you’ll see soon, okay? can you forgive me? i love you so much, i just didn’t think it would hurt you that way" he added shyly. nodding softly, you tightened your lips into a line.
"okay…" you hummed.
hopefully the cake will be delicious enough to regain at least a piece of your trust.
masterlist <3
taglist. @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @litepowee ,, @ocean-minho ,, @lessthanpast ,, @s-e-s-a-I-e-n-e ,, @fire-08 ,, @eternalgyu ,, @haecien
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evie-sturns · 2 months
Text
ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ - ᴍᴀᴛᴛ ꜱᴛᴜʀɴɪᴏʟᴏ
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summary: you're staying at your best friend's house, the sturniolos, for the weekend, until one night you can't sleep, so you decide to go for a dip in the hot tub.. but matt's already there.
contains: smut, virgin!matt, teasing, hot tub sex, semi-public?
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i roll over in bed, the clock on the wall reads, 11:57pm. i've been lying here for 3 hours with my eyes shut, but im too energised, i mean, the sturniolos and i have had a crazy few days, resulting in me staying the weekend.
i hoist myself up out of bed, flicking on the lamp as i dig through my tote bag for a small bikini, afterall its almost midnight, none of them would be in the hot tub at this time.
i open my bedroom door, tiptoeing past chris, nick and matts room down the stairs.
i creak open the backdoor, stepping out into the icy air which hits my barely covered body. i turn the corner to the hottub,
matt's sitting inside, his head tilted back, his eyes shut.
hes shirtless, wearing nothing but swim shorts. he doesnt notice me yet, but im just kind of.. admiring him?
the way he looks tonight is just different, ive known him for a few years but ive never felt like this towards him.
"matt?" i ask softly, being careful not startle him.
his eyes open slowly, looking up at me.
his cheeks instantly flush red, he opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. "can i come.. in?" i ask, my eyebrows furrowing as matt just looks me up and down.
he quickly runs a hand through his hair before nodding "yeah yeah!" he says frantically.
i climb in next to him, matt just looks straight ahead. "are you alright?" i ask, adjusting the strap to my bikini top.
-
we've been talking and laughing for about 15 minutes, matt's still been nervous.
"and my friend, lana, she went for a job interview and came out of it with the job all because she blowed the manager off" i laugh, my straps accidentally slipping down again teasingly.
matt looks down at his lap before shifting uncomfortably, he clears his throat. my eyes dart down, its hard to see through the water, but matts got an obvious tent in his shorts.
"im sorry.." matt mumbles out in a whisper.
"why do ya think thats happened?" i ask casually, my hand dipping underwater and grazing his thigh.
matt stays silent, he looks horrified with himself.
"im so sorry just give me five minutes in the bathroom i can come right back-" matt rambles but i cut him off but straddling his lap.
matts breath hitches in his throat "oh-"
"do you think you got hard from.. me?" i say seductively, looking down at him.
"i'm sorry." matt says, his eyes fixated on my chest.
"was it from.. these straps?" i say, pulling down the straps on my bikini.
matt nods nervously,
"you can take them off if you want, i mean we are alone." i whisper.
matt reaches his hand out from the hot water, pulling off my bikini top, his tongue slides out of his mouth to dampen his lips as his cheeks go a dark red.
"why are you so scared matt, its not like youve never seen tits before" i joke, but matt tenses under me.
"matt..?" i say, dragging out the 'a'.
"uh.. i'm a virgin so.." matt says, his voice barely audible.
my eyebrows raise, a silence fills the night air.
"i know, we don't have to do anything.. i dont want to make you.. teach me?" matt rambles again, i cup his cheeks and pull him into a gentle kiss, shutting him up.
"you ramble when you're nervous.." i say, toying with the strings of his shorts, i get off his lap and sit next to him. the water is still and clear, illuminated by a blue led light.
i tug at the waistband of his shorts, revealing a small section of his base.
"oh fuck." matt quietly whimpers out.
“i’ll take it gently okay?” i assure him before pulling down his swim shorts,
i never knew matt was this big.
my cheeks flush as i climb back onto his lap, sitting just on his thighs as his dick rests on my stomach. i put my hands on matt’s damp shoulders before hovering just above his tip.
“please..” matt says, his voice hoarse
“please what?” i tease, pulling off my small bikini bottoms and discarding them somewhere in the water.
matt grips my waist, his hands firm against my skin. “please ride me..” matt says, clearly embarrassed.
i slowly sink down onto him, the warm water sloshing around us. matt’s grip on my waist tightens as he lets out pathetic noises.
“you- you okay?” i ask, burying my head on his shoulder as i slowly start to bounce up and down.
“i’m-..” matt struggles to speak, i let out a soft laugh.
“you don’t have to answer now sweetheart.” i whisper into his hair, picking up the pace.
it’s only been a few minutes, but i can tell matt’s close, his fingers are digging into me so harshly i know i’ll have bruises tomorrow.
his groans fill the night air, along with small splashes coming from the water. i clench around him, “i’m so close..” i warn, the knot in my stomach snaps as i orgasm around him, i feel matt tense so i quickly pull off of him, stroking him as he paints my hands with white.
“oh my god.. fuck” matt says, squeezing his eyes shut, he reaches out a hand and grabs my shoulder for support.
i run my thumb over his already sensitive tip, earning a gentle moan from matt. i pull up his swim shorts slowly.
“shit..” matt says, his eyes peeling open slowly.
“you okay?” i ask again, tying up my bikini.
“i’m-.. really good?” matt says, rubbing his eyes.
-
after a few minutes of talking and joking around, i stand up, climbing out of the hot tub onto the cold deck.
“same time tomorrow?” i smile jokingly back at matt.
----------------------∘°∘♡∘°∘∘ ∘°∘♡∘°∘--------------------
was a full task to bring myself to finish this 😭😭 hope y’all like it though
I also genuinely can’t tell if it chris or matt in the first picture by the title, but you get the point
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bountycancelled · 3 months
Text
(un)secret admirer
luke castellan x child of aphrodite!reader
tip me on kofi, if you feel so inclined
requested: nope, I'm just currently obsessing over pjo (aren't we all?) and Charlie bushnell is my pookie so luke is also my pookie (what about all the people he murdered– what murdaaaa?!)
warnings: none I believe!
content: probably ooc luke becusse I haven't read the books, I don't know if demigods even nap, I don't remember the movies and he's barely in the show lol, some cuddling, lowercase intended because fuck grammar, also I know demi gods are dyslexic i just dont gaf because i thought this concept was cute, that's all!
a/n: SEND ME PJO REQS! please. also this is short and I'm sorry, I've been having horrid writers block.
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"I don't get what the big deal is." Lukes voice could be heard from where he sat on your bed, as you gazed at the piece of paper in your hand, pacing back and forth in your room as you analysed its every minute detail to the best of your abilities. "you get letters from the other campers all the time."
"I already told you Luke. this handwriting isn't the same as any other letter I've gotten, so that means it's from someone who's never sent me a note before, and I need to know who it is."
you had recieved a myriad of letters ranging from 'I think you're pretty' to 'I would sacrifice my right arm just to get a hug from you' during your time here at camp. beyond being drop dead gorgeous, you were kind, always wearing a charming smile on your face, and having the ability to comfort people with your presence alone.
that (coupled with the facts that most kids here had some kind of parental baggage and your kindness definitely filled some kind of void) meant that you recieved many a words from not so secret admirers. you were sure that you knew the identities of the people who had given you sealed envelopes and tightly folded papers, but you were currently stumped.
you were startled out of your staring contest with the scribbled ink by the feeling of Lukes arms around your shoulders as he spoke. "I'm sure you'll figure it out eventually, now can you please come back to bed? you know that I can't nap if you're not with me."
you sighed, letting him lead you back to your bed so that he could rest before you two inevitable of the two of you needing to help around the camp occured. you stared up at the ceiling as he slowly started to dose off beside you, before you gasped and shot up, effectively spooking him out of a peaceful moment.
"it's Percy!" you shushed Luke before he had the chance to complain about your sudden exclamation or the fact that you weren't letting him get a wink of midday sleep. "I mean, he's just met me, and one of my friends probably told him some stuff about me–"
"it's not Percy." Luke deadpanned, pushing you down by the shoulder from the upright postpone you were sat in to make you lay back down, and wrapping his arm around your waist. you were shocked into silence, because although Luke was an affectionate friend, he had never cuddled you while he was still awake. he would always wake up and discovering that he had wrapped around you in his sleeping state, apologising sheepishly while retracting his limbs.
after a few moments of stunned silence, you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at his statement. "and how do you know it's not him, huh?" he simply blew air from his nose, tightening his grip around your waist.
"because it was me, sweetheart."
now that shut you up fairly quickly, as you bit your lip to try to hinder the giddy smile that wanted to form on your features. you opened your mouth to speak again, only to be interrupted by Luke placing a small kiss on the back of your neck.
"we'll talk when we wake up, alright?" but you weren't having any of that. "okay... but, before you go to bed. how long have you liked me? is this actually the first letter you've sent? why wouldn't you just tell me, you idiot. obviously I like you too. I know you said some stuff that you like about me in the letter, but I want you to tell me about everything you like about me, like every feature, every trait-"
Luke chuckled, sporting a big grin as you spoke. he would tell you all of that and more, he would do anything you asked of him, just as long as he got to hold you in his arms just like this.
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xorafe · 24 days
Text
watch and learn (part two)
pairing fratboy! rafe cameron x female reader
rating explicit 18+
content warning drug and alcohol use
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summary it takes one conversation with your college dorm neighbor to know you won’t get along. rafe is loud, rude, and short-tempered. after he overhears you talking about a disappointing fling, he loses his confidence in his sexual abilities and suggests you start hooking up to both improve your skills in the bedroom. you can’t stand him, but it’s too good of an offer to turn down.
» masterlist
*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*
You’re at the library the next morning, enjoying how quiet campus is on a Saturday. You’re trying to focus on a discussion board you need to respond in, but your mind is elsewhere.
You can’t believe you agreed to Rafe’s idea. But you don’t regret it. He may be a jerk through and through, but he’s surprisingly a really good listener in bed.
You’re pretty sure he gave you the best orgasm you’ve ever had with someone. While it was an awkward challenge guiding him, you realized how liberating it was getting exactly what you wanted instead of quietly hoping the guy you were with knew what to do.
Your phone buzzes and lights up with a text. It’s 9:44 am and the notification is from Rafe.
Rafe: if you ever want practice sucking dick let me know
You flush and instinctually look around to make sure nobody in the barren library can see your screen. You reply: good morning to you too.
You take a second and send another message. The thought of going down on him rouses you. And, of course, the feedback will be helpful.
You: might take you up on that
Rafe: might?
You: might :)
Rafe is lying in bed, nursing a minor hangover. When he thinks about what happened on the other side of the wall in your room last night, he gets turned on all over again.
Feeling you cum around his fingers was fucking amazing. Knowing he did that to you, made you shake like that, was like an achievement. And he wants to keep doing it.
He texts you: we’re having a party on the beach today. bring friends
Rafe’s brand new to the frat, but he has already learned how important it is to invite as many people as he can to events. And if he’s being honest, he really wants to see you again.
You: only if you dont hit on them. i cant subject them to that
He feels his lips quirk up in a smile. When you don’t have a stick up your ass, you’re actually kind of entertaining.
Rafe: wtf why
You: you’re a fuckboy
Rafe: nahh you said i was amazing
You: i said the sex was amazing. and thats only because i told you what to do
Rafe: you can’t take all the credit
You: watch me
Rafe: you’re annoying
You: YOU’RE annoying
You: send me the address and time for the party
He quickly sends you the details.
This is the best idea he’s ever had. No strings attached sex with a hot girl who has zero interest in a relationship and can be brutally honest with him. He gets to fuck and improve his skills. It’s a dream.
Later that afternoon, Rafe watches the setting sun as he hangs out with a couple of his frat brothers in the sand. The party’s slowly starting to fill up, conversations growing in volume over the sound of the waves crashing on the shore.
“We don’t host a lot of parties here,” Blake continues to explain to Rafe.
Blake’s a sophomore legacy and Rafe has slowly realized that he sort of looks up to him. He’s involved in the frat and seems to know everybody.
“It’s ‘cause it’s impossible to get people to pay cover, so we don’t even ask for it,” Blake says.
“No door to do it at,” Sam, another sophomore adds with a laugh. Blake looks back and shakes his head.
“Fun police is here,” he hollers. Rafe turns to see pacing towards the keg next to the same girl he saw you with last night.
His pulse quickens as he takes you in. Your shorts are barely covering anything. Damn.
You glare at Blake as you pick up a red solo cup.
“Kidding,” Blake says. “We were kinda being assholes the other night, weren’t we?”
Your lips twist into a small smile. Rafe isn’t sure why, but he doesn’t like you looking at Blake like that.
He didn’t mention to anyone that you two hooked up last night. No particular reason - it just didn’t come up. But clearly, he’ll have to fill the guys in later. They need to know you’re off limits.
“Thanks for admitting it,” you say, filling up your cup. “Why can’t you be my neighbor?”
You look over at Rafe, whose jaw is clenched. Him and that temper. Admittedly, you’re already kind of sexually frustrated over how good he looks in his tank top, his big biceps exposed.
“Life’s unfair,” Blake replies with a bigger grin. You return it. It makes Rafe’s blood run hot.
“I guess it is,” you say as your friend finishes filling up her cup.
You walk away and Rafe realizes he didn’t exchange a single word with you. The second you’re out of earshot, he leans towards his buddies.
“I’m hooking up with her,” he tells them.
“Your neighbor?” Sam laughs. “Cap. That chick hates you.”
Rafe almost tells him not to call you a chick because of your advice last night. Wow. He really is learning from you.
“Didn’t hate me last night.” He takes a sip of his beer.
“Wait, for real?” Blake asks.
“Yeah.” Rafe loves the confidence high he’s riding right now.
“How was it?” Blake asks.
Rafe decides to lie. Painting it as a boring experience will make his buddies lose any interest they might have in you.
“Fine,” he says casually. Yeah, right. It was incredible.
Rafe watches Blake turn, surely to check you out.
“She’s cute,” Blake mumbles.
“Bro code, man,” Sam says, slapping his friend’s chest. Rafe is kind of relieved he said that.
“Shit, my bad,” Blake says with a chuckle, looking at Rafe. “You like her?”
“Oh - no,” Rafe laughs. “No.”
“Then you wouldn’t mind if I talked to her, right?” Blake says it as more of a statement than a question.
Rafe realizes he shouldn’t care. This whole arrangement is so both of you can get better at sex with other people. He doesn’t know what got into him thinking you owed him loyalty. His impulse to be possessive serves no purpose here.
“Go for it,” Rafe says.
Dusk falls as you stand in a crowd with Liv, your feet sunken into the sand as you drink and chat.
You told her about your arrangement with Rafe and were surprised to hear how jealous she was, mentioning how rare it is to find a guy who cares about giving his girl an orgasm.
You had to clarify to her it’s because Rafe’s ego needs all the stroking it can get, especially in the bedroom. And that you are not his girl.
You know it’s a crazy situation to be in with someone, but it’s worth it. You’ll learn what you can from him, and he’ll do the same with you, and then you’ll use what you picked up with people you actually like.
As the night goes on, the crowd gets bigger and closer together. It’s dark at this point, the moon covered with clouds.
Rafe’s been looking at you all night, at your bare legs, thinking about how he had his mouth between them last night.
You feel your phone buzz in your back pocket. When you pull it out, you see a text from Rafe: you ever fucked in a car? or are you too scared lol
You look up to meet his gaze from eight feet away at most, shaking your head in incredulity as he smirks at you.
The abruptness of his message, the promise of doing something so outside your comfort zone, is thrilling. But still, you just have to mess with him.
You reply: too scared :( no thanks
You laugh at the way Rafe’s face contorts at his phone. He looks up at you.
You text again: jk let’s go
He flashes his middle finger to you and you return the gesture. He then cocks his head behind him to signal you to follow.
“Tip for you,” you say when you approach him, walking away from the crowd together. “Don’t flip off a girl you’re trying to fuck.”
“Is that not good foreplay?” Rafe asks with a smirk.
“Aw, did I teach you that word?” you say.
“I knew it before.”
“Sure,” you say. “Just like you knew that girls fake it.”
“You’re annoying,” he groans, amusement in his tone.
“You’re annoying” you say, echoing your text conversation from earlier. You playfully shove his shoulder. He hardly budges.
You approach the parking lot and Rafe pulls out keys to remotely unlock his car.
“Get in,” he says, stopping in front of a large black SUV and opening the right backseat door. You notice the luxury brand immediately.
“This is your car?”
“Got a motorcycle, too,” he replies smugly.
“It makes so much sense now.”
“What?”
“You’re rich,” you realize. Rafe shrugs in such a pompous way.
“And?”
“That’s why you’re so…” you begin. What’s the right word? Entitled? Arrogant? Shameless? “You.”
Rafe scoffs at you, unsure of how to take the comment and unsure if he should even care as you settle in his car. He ambles in behind you, settling on the leather seat and shutting the door.
You don’t feel shy to initiate like you did last night. You straddle him, immediately locking lips, feeling him freeze in what you think is surprise before his hands drag over your hips.
Rafe really wants to grab your ass but he remembers you telling him he shouldn’t jump right to groping.
He tastes like beer and he smells like cologne as you deepens the kiss, weaving your lips together. He dips his tongue into your mouth and your noses nudge together, wet lips smacking in his dark, quiet car.
He shuffles under you, the leather squeaking, allowing you to feel his hard-on between your legs, his hands finally wandering over your ass and gripping hard. Lust burns in your stomach.
Your mind drifts back to what he texted you this morning. You’ve been thinking about it all day. You sit back, unable to see much of Rafe in the darkness, but enough to see that his eyes are half-closed, drunk off the feeling.
“I wanna practice…” you say, stroking him over his shorts. “You know.”
“Say it,” Rafe coaches, his dimples caving into his cheeks. You roll your eyes. Right. This is why you’re doing this. To stop being so reserved.
“Sucking dick,” you finally say. Hearing and watching you as your words spill out of your mouth makes his skin prickle with excitement.
“My turn to teach you, huh?” Rafe’s voice is deep and husky, dripping with desire. You nod, your bottom lip trapped beneath your teeth as you continue to stroke him.
“Should I keep doing this?” you ask, palming him.
“You got it, baby,” he rasps lazily. “Touch it before you put it in your mouth.”
“Fuck,” you half-chuckle. Rafe smirks. He knows you love his dirty talk.
“You can talk, too,” he encourages. “Try it.”
You twist your lips in apprehension, but push yourself past your comfort zone.
“I’ve been thinking about doing this all day,” you admit, goosebumps blooming across your skin. “About how your cock is gonna feel down my throat.”
“Goddamn,” he groans, his hands gripping your ass tighter. How’d he get so lucky to be here right now? “That’s good.”
“Yeah?” you whisper, gratified. You unbutton his shorts and pull down his zipper.
“You liked the way it felt inside you last night, didn’t you?” he asks. He shifts to give you the space to pull down his shorts and boxers.
You watch him shut his eyes in pleasure as you wrap your bare hand around him, no fabric in the way anymore.
“I loved it,” you whisper, giving into the impulse to kiss him again. When your thumb rubs over the bead of warm precum on the head of his cock, he bites your bottom lip.
You move to position your head at his groin, your knees on the carpeted floor of his car. You lean forward, slowly putting your lips around the tip, feeling just how wet your panties are when you taste him.
“Shit,” he shudders. You slightly raise your head to dribble spit onto his thick cock, bringing your hand up to rub the moisture over his length.
“Sit up,” Rafe says. “I wanna watch you spit on it again.”
You straighten and the sight of your line of saliva dropping from your mouth to his dick makes Rafe feel like he might go crazy.
His cock is slick now, your hand sliding up and down it easily.
“Should I use both hands?” you ask.
“Yeah,” he huffs. You nod, both your palms rubbing over his girth, cupping and twisting.
He’s about to tell you to start using your mouth, but you drop a hand, leaving the other at his base, and take him in.
Your hot, wet mouth feels unbelievable. You start to suck and slide over him nicely, leaning up and down.
“Squeeze harder,” he instructs, and you nod with his cock still in your mouth, your hold stiffening at his base. You’d assume gripping this tight would hurt, but this is why you’re doing this with him. To learn.
You take a little more of him with every dip of your head, lips locked as spit dribbles down your chin. The sound of your slurping is fucking amazing to him. Your tongue twists and curls as you move.
“Keep using your tongue like that,” Rafe says to you, his words whispered and rushed. “And take as much of my cock as you can. Try to take all of it.”
You nod again, pushing down, gagging but reaching all of him, your nose touching his toned stomach.
“Fuck, yes,” he moans. “Good fucking girl.”
The praise makes you stir with enticement as you pull back, then take all of his length again, flicking your tongue.
“Just like that,” Rafe grunts, his voice hoarse. “Look at me.”
You meet his eyes in the shadowed car, his chest heaving. Rafe might just lose his mind at the way you look with your mouth stuffed with his cock. He reminds him this is supposed to be instructional.
“Guys love this shit, okay?” he says. “When you look up like that.”
You pull back, making him watch his cock slowly get uncovered as you pop off of him.
“Is it wet enough?” you ask.
“Yeah, baby, you’re doing a good job,” he replies. You nod and sink onto him again, starting to move faster, moving your hand in sync with your mouth.
“Hold my balls,” he tells you. “Not too tight.”
You obey, cupping the soft flesh with one hand while the other remains wrapped around his cock. You squeeze gently, massaging his balls and earning a deep groan from him.
Wow. You really are learning a lot from him.
Rafe feels his stomach tighten. He’s close.
“You gonna swallow?” he asks.
“Yeah,” you say, muffled and vibrating over his cock. You never have before, but you really want to impress Rafe and do this right.
He starts to shake, his voice reduced to a whimper. You feel him get even harder, then shudder.
His hot cum hits the back of your throat in one hard splash, trailed by short spurts. He moans his way through his orgasm, his load heavy.
You take it all, making him smile as he looks down at you, panting.
“That was… fuck…” Rafe huffs, titling his head back, his jawline sharp.
It’s pretty gratifying seeing such a big, loud, arrogant man reduced to this tired, heaving mess. He rakes a hand through his hair as you shift to sit next to him.
“A-plus?” you ask. You’re expecting him to tease you but he nods.
“Fuck yeah,” he laughs. “Give me a few minutes. I want you to show me how to make you cum on my dick.”
Nerves suddenly bubble in your stomach. Even after what you just did, the thought of fucking him in here makes you feel on edge.
“Let’s do that another night,” you say, adjusting your top.
“What? Why?” he asks. He looks at you, lips still parted as he breathes heavily.
“We could get caught.”
“The windows are tinted,” Rafe tells you. “Nobody knows we’re even in here.”
You look away, which by now, he has learned means you’re embarrassed.
“Holy shit, why do you get so nervous all of a sudden?” he laughs. “Do you feel bad for liking sex or something?”
You swallow hard. You never thought about it but... maybe he’s right. There always is a little bit of shame attached to every hook-up you have.
He called you out on your lack of confidence last night. Here he is, doing it again.
Rafe doesn’t understand how a girl can be so sure of herself one minute, then ashamed the next.
“Relax,” he says. “Don’t think. Just answer, understand?”
“Okay,” you say.
“Do you want to fuck?”
You nod.
“Say it.”
“Yeah, I do,” you relent.
“Then take your clothes off.”
(part three)
if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘
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rosedom · 1 month
Note
AHHHH HELLOOO sorry i usually dont request much, haha this is actually my second request in all of my tumblr story ever but...i saw you decided to write for gaming and i just couldnt resist, i love your writing a lot and i just think its so immaculate hahaa. Could you write an scenario where male reader is stressed from work (imagine he has an important job like a doctor or something whatever you want is fine :)) because he has been working days nonstop, so much that his boyfriend is all worked up and horny for him so when reader comes back he finds himself straddled by him while hes begging for fucking? With cockwarming, breeding kink and cowgirl position. Could that be with Gaming, Lyney and Gorou? SORRY IF IM ASKING MUCH I DONT WANT TO BE A BOTHER😭😭 i just dont know how to request but thanks for reading all of rant. And again, thank you and sorry for bothering😔 have a nice day/afternoon/night!
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"an unnamed player has invited GA-MING, LYNEY, and GOROU to play . . . an apple a day
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✦ㅤㅤ 【 CW 】 dom!top!male!reader, sub!bottom!ftm!characters, vaginal sex & riding, breeding kink + creampies, creaming (lyney), gratuitous praise + petnames .
A/N : aa u are never a bother !! i am SO SORRY this took so long for me to get to, omg . . . but i had sm fun with this (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)
"do you want to watch, [PLAYER]? press KEEP READING to spectate the match."
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Patient after patient after patient, each one with a more downright stupid trouble than the last. Your day had started with a young man, clearly fresh out of Millelith training, complaining of a tummy ache, of all things! He had clutched his stomach and moaned and groaned, and all you could prescribe him was bedrest. It’s not like you were going to waste medicine—medicine that some people needed—on someone who ached because he didn't eat fucking breakfast. 
The next patient was an older woman, here only for her biannual check up. You'd greeted her, said a sweet, “Good morning, madame,” but all she did was turn her snobby nose up at you and demand you not waste her time.
“Madame, you have a serious—” 
“I know, young man.” You had heaved a sigh, letting her boss you around for the length of her appointment before sending her off with the exact same specifications as last time: take vitamins, get ample rest, stop talking back to people just doing their jobs. (Though, that last one there was merely something you wished you had said.
Too bad the customer—in this case, patient—is always right, huh?)
But, by the end of the day, you wish, instead, that you had simply elderly after elderly; their disrespect pales to the absolute headache that the rest of your patients put behind your eyes, pounding at your skull—bam, bam, bam.
Wham bam-thank-you-ma'am, all throbbing incessantly behind your eyes and making you wanna hurl—except, god, you’re the fucking doctor, and who’s there to take care of him when he’s a little under the weather? You’ve got your boyfriend, of course—your perfect boyfriend, light of your life, apple of your eye, yet he’s home, and you’re here, and you’re bloody exhausted. 
“I need to go home,” you murmur—quiet, lest your own voice make you lose the last of your thin-threaded sanity—, already stripping yourself of the itchy scrubs you wear during the long days. 
“But sir—” the nurse asks, meak, but her voice is still too loud, too shrill for right now. 
You huff. “I’ve worked for fourteen hours.” The tired gruff to your own voice makes you cringe. You can feel the way it tumbles from your chest, rattling you, your overly sensitive eyes and brain and head and fuckin’ everything, at this point. “Refer to the doc on duty, now.” 
The nurse nods, once. “Have a good night, doctor.”
You bid farewell—a kind apology with a promise to make it up to them, to bring them coffee, maybe, or some cookies—, and you take the slow walk home. The sky is dark and the fireflies are out, the gentle glow illuminating the path. With nothing but your own thoughts and the night to accompany you, you feel your headache gradually ease. It throbs, still; but each bump in your skull is gentler, now: it’s easier to ignore. 
Although the porch light is too strong—the lantern bright and attracting the nighttime bugs and moths—, the foyer of your home is dark. Your aching head is grateful for the reprieve—for the silence that envelops you in totality the second the door clicks quietly shut behind you—, but something other than tiredness pulls at your heartstrings: your sweet boyfriend, clad in only a shirt of yours, toeing into the entryway. 
“Honey?” He wipes the sleep from his eyes, softly smiling at you. “Hi.”
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“Ga-ming, honey—” honey, because Ga-ming unabashedly stole the pet name from you, first, “—you didn’t have to stay up for me.” 
As if on cue, his jaw cracks open in a yawn: this, you do not need the lights on to see. Your heart aches with your head, knowing that he had stayed up just for you. “Honey,” you repeat, sliding off your jacket and stepping up to him. You take his waist in your hands, bunching up the shirt he stole from your closet.
“Quit with that,” he murmurs, tilting up his head for a soft kiss. You grant it; but when you go to pull back, to keep the kiss gentle and chaste, Ga-ming presses forward, darting that little tongue out to lick at the seam of your lips; his hips, too, come bumping against yours, pressing into your thigh, pant to skin—
“Ga-ming?” you repeat, breath leaving you in a low huff. “You’re—” bare. 
Utterly, wholly bare: an expanse of warm, slick skin against your clothed leg. “‘m ready,” he mumbles while he takes to mouthing at your throat. His lips soothe you, somehow; it’s a reprieve, a stark contrast, to the pounding at your skull. 
“Ready?” you whisper, tilting your head back, letting your hands guide the steady roll of his hips onto your lap. 
He nods. “Ready for you,” he enunciates as he softly whines. 
Ga-ming—your Ga-ming—, your boyfriend, your love and light of your life: right here in front of you, on you, all needy for you, offering himself to you, wholly ready for the taking. 
“So please,” he continues, his cock dragging heavy across the seam of your pant; “fuck me.”
“Oh, honey,” you murmur; then again, an “oh, honey,” because you’re still half-dressed up in your clothes—though they’re only soft and bland, made to fit under the rough scrubs you had abandoned at the office—, and Ga-ming is naked save for the shirt draping across him, the low hemline covering the absolutely sinful way he grinds down. It’s a dirty move, a down, down, down that gives his sensitive cock friction against your pelvis. 
“Please, please, ‘m ready, I said—” his words abruptly drop off, a high cry in his throat that sends him to hide his overly-warm face in your neck. His skin burns against you, a feverish-hot that makes you chuckle, makes the throb in your head go away, just-so. “I said I-I was ready, so, please!”
You coo, quiet, bumping your hips up once. The jerking motion makes him cry out, but he manages to keep himself upright, right-side up but entirely unmoored on your cock. “Go on then, little lion. Take what you need, yeah?”
Whimpering a quiet, “Y-yeah,” he begins riding you, slow, steady—but slightly off-balanced—rolls of his hips that makes him whine, makes you groan low n’ deep in your chest. You let your hands rest on his hips, the fabric of his shirt falling over your wrists, and gently guide his motions. Once you’ve helped him establish himself, he begins riding you harder, more desperate.
Silent tears—though, are they truly silent, loud as he is moaning out for you?—dribble down his cheeks, falling to his shirt and soaking the collar of it in salty evidence of his abject pleasure. His abdomen is tensing and relaxing and tensing and relaxing again, all in a rapid loop, in and out and in n’ out, and then there’s a fucking bulge right below his navel when he sinks down hard n’ deep on your cock; and you’re sent over the edge at the sight, moaning through your teeth as you fill Ga-ming up with hot, sticky cum.
“Oh, oh—” he cries, grinding down harsh to get all your cum in as deep as possible, deep ‘nuff to breed him— “bred me, bred me so well, oh—” You groan at his desperate babbling as his thighs jerk around your hips, just before they give out on him entirely. He falls bodily into your chest, heaving through his own orgasm as weak mewls tumble from his prettily parted lips. Each sound is smeared into your throat while you laugh, light and breathless, jostling his overly-sensitized body and making him flinch. 
“Sorry, honey.” You kiss at his temple, and, the whole while, his small cunt is left to unconsciously milk your cock, left to assure that loud, insecure part of his brain that he’s wanted, that he’s bred all nice n’ full because he is loved. You’re long done, now, but the undulations make your body warm, soft, safe—just like Ga-ming is, comfy in your lap and wholly protected. “Thank you.”
He shakes his head against you, nuzzling into your throat with a heavy sigh. “You don’t have—hafta thank me,” he mumbles, a lick at your Adam’s apple to seal the deal. “I wanted ta.”
Tucking up the blankets around him, you grin. “Then can you warm my cock, lil’ dragon? Just for me?” You run your fingers lightly up his clothed spine, delighting in the shiver you can feel, one that runs the length of your cock as he’s snug on it. “Since earlier was all about you?” You raise the end of your sentence in a lilting tone, meant to tease, and Ga-ming huffs at you. 
And, n further retaliation, he clenches around you; the soft squeeze—all wet n’ warm, smearing your own cum across the base of your cock and leaving the mess of both of yours to dribble down the minute space between your bodies—forces you to calm your breathing, to take in the delicate scent of what is undeniably Ga-ming mixed with the smell of your own shirt, your own cologne. 
You laugh, then. “‘m sorry,” you say again amidst giggles, ones you’re careful you confine only to your upper chest lest the movement be too uncomfortable on both of your oversensitive groins. 
He doesn't reply, snuggled up comfy on your lap and stuffed full of your cock n’ cum both. Instead, he only noses into your neck further before his breathing steadies, lulling you to sleep, too.
It’s in your final moments of consciousness that you realize your head no longer hurts. 
(You suppose you now have the evidence that, yes, an orgasm is sufficient enough a cure for headaches.)
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Under Lyney’s palm, a small floor lamp clicks silently on. The light is admittedly dim, but, to your sensitive eyes, the bulb is blinding. You cringe and cover your eyes; but it only serves to shield you slightly, because you’re still upright in the foyer, and your body is rather weak. “Lyney,” you tiredly murmur, lifting your palm just enough to see the ground lest you trip. 
You bump into him, laughing lightly, but his worried hands jump to your arm. “Hey—”
“I’m okay.” You’re quick to calm him, placing your free hand on his in a tender gesture as you make way to the living room. “Just a headache, ‘s all. Ya shouldn't have stayed up f’r me.” Earlier, it hurt to even think; but here, with him, the pain is easy to ignore, in the face of his own self destruction.
He grumbles at you, though, says something you can’t quite catch and drops his hands, pads over to the lamp to flick it off. The return of darkness is soothing. 
He smiles at you, then; or, at least, you think he does. It’s difficult to see in the dark, and you can’t strain your eyes without hurting yourself. “I wanted to!” He takes three long strides before he’s standing in front of you, draping his arms across your shoulders. The position makes his (your) shirt ride up on his belly, and— ”I missed you, y’know,” he murmurs, suddenly all soft n’ deep, looking up at you and bumping his forehead against your chin. “A lot, really.” 
“Lyn—” 
He quickly silences you with a kiss. Against your lips, he pulls back, murmurs, “I missed your cock, especially.”
Laughing against him, you lean up ‘til he can no longer reach you. He pouts at you when you reply, faux-snark, “only my cock, huh?” Your bottom lip juts out—a mirror of Lyney’s own, a magic trick of his you took for your own; it’s a devilish trick, one you play right alongside puppy-dog eyes you know he’s soft to. “How cruel.” 
He huffs at you, pulling you down by the collar of your shirt to kiss the mirth off your lips. “I was tryin’ to be seductive,” he grumbles, knocking against your chin and beginning to push you backwards into the living room. “But nevermind!”
You want to say, “Hey, now:” disagree with him and keep on pouting and go, “hey, hey, hey,” all offended, but the backs of your knees come into contact with the edge of the sofa, and you’re well and sufficiently distracted from that idea.
“Sit,” he gently commands you—merely the illusion of choice—, giving you no choice in the matter with the way he’s pressing you down into the cushions. You go easily; you sigh in relief when the softness begins enveloping you—a pillow’s snug right in the middle of your back, and you briefly wonder if Lyney had planned this. He murmurs, “there you go,” quiet n’ soft, and you’re taken by the way this man gives to you. 
He wears his heart on his sleeve, truly; except, right now, the sleeve is yours (just like his heart belongs to you and yours to him in turn), and it's bare, and so is the expanse of his long, pale thighs, the hem of his boxers peeking out beneath the shirt. He stands in front of you, between your legs, makes sure you’re down and that you’re gonna stay down, but your eyes aren’t really tired, not anymore, staring at Luney—your Lyney—before he huffs and sits bodily onto you, straddling your lap with his knees sinking into the cushions on either side of you.
“Lyney,” you murmur, reaching out to take hold of his thighs. The position makes the shirt rise up on his belly, exposing the soft, rippling muscles there; but, in the dark, all you can go by is what you feel against your own stomach, his bare skin pressed to your thin shirt. “I was kiddin’, sweetheart.”
“I know you were,” he snaps at you, mean-like, but he brings his arms around your shoulders all sweetly and nuzzles into the side of your head. “But I wasn’t. I—I really did miss you; and your cock. If you—if you wanna, of course.” 
“Of course I want to, Lyn,” you mutter, tilting your head up to kiss beneath his chin. “I’m just a little tired.”
“A little?” He huffs, again, before sighing. “Just—let me do the work, alright? I’m already...” he pauses, tilts his head to the side, breathes in and out sharply.
You hum at him to go on. 
“‘m already prepped.” Oh. 
“Oh?” You grin, bringing your tired arm up to cup his cheek. He leans into your palm and his eyelashes flutter, brushing against your skin. “Go ahead then, sweet thing.”
And go ahead he does, smiling into you before he abruptly leans back ‘nuff to chuck off the shirt. You whine, say, “hey!” but there isn’t any bite left on your tongue when Lyney starts tugging his boxers down, too. He’s impatient, pulling at the seam and groaning curses at the fabric—as if it’s the damn boxers’ fault that he’s in a position that prevents him from taking them off. 
He relents, tilting this way and that and finally—after painstaking minutes later, ones that, under no circumstance, should be arousing, but the anticipation, the wait: it all makes your dick chub up in your own pants—Lyney’s left naked in your lap. The fabric hangs off his foot, and you reach down to tug it the rest of the way off for your sweet boyfriend as he busies himself unbuckling your own belt, loosening the tough leather enough for your pants to droop and enough for him to reach a hot hand into your briefs. 
“Eager, huh?” you tease, lifting your hips—and, subsequently, him—to let him get your dick out of your pants. Neither of you bother pulling down your own pants, not after Lyney spent so long on his boxers alone. He doesn’t dally. “My sweet Lyney.”
He sighs, again—he’s rather dramatic tonight; but, then again, when isn’t he? It wouldn’t quite be your Lyney without some theatrics—, spitting into his palm and lathering up your cock with it while he makes to straddle you more fully. “Thought you were tired,” he grumbles, hovering his, indeed, wet n’ slicked up and entirely prepped cunt over your thick cockhead.
“Mhm.” You set your hands on his plush thighs once he hooks the head of you into his loosened hole, groaning low and pleased in your throat while he softly whimpers at the barely-there stretch. He prepared himself well. “But when you’re lookin’ so pretty for me, I can’t help being wide awake. Wouldn’t wanna miss this sight for the world.”
With your eyes now adjusted to the light—and, oh, you consider how the throb of your head is a bygone memory now—, you can see the way his cheeks darken just-so, puffed up in exertion as his groin meets yours. You’ve got your cock stuffed up balls-deep in him, and he leans into you once he’s fully settled. 
He moans, less out of outright pleasure and more out of total contentment, comfy and warm on your lap as your arms knead at his thighs. His arms squeeze around your shoulders, and he quietly asks, “Gimme a minute.”
Nodding, you simply bask in the steady heat of him, letting him adjust and recognize that, yes, you’re home, now, and you hadn’t really left him at all. “I missed you,” you murmur rather suddenly, your voice quiet but still stark in the silence of the night. “Thought about you durin’ my shift.”
“You did?” His voice is rough but wispy, a little out-there and entirely gone. He’s slipping into that mindset he always does when he’s left to warm your cock—regardless of if it were by his volition or your own—, but he begins to subtly grind his hips against you, mewling at the hot sparks of rapture from his cock rubbing just right against you. 
“‘Course I did,” you continue, moving your hands to his hips instead to help move him along. His arms tighten around you and he moans directly into your ear.
From then on, it’s quiet: quiet, that is, save from the obscene slick noises of the lube Lyney used to prep himself earlier with his own slick, your pre-cum mixing up and making a mess of thick liquid between both of your thighs. His moans are barely audible, these soft, gentle lil’ uh, uh, uh’s punched out of him with each tender grind down. 
You think, even, that you’ll both cum like this: quiet, nothing but the sounds of your connection and heavy breaths, moans, groans as you fall over the edge. But then Lyney starts bumping his groin against yours even harder, grinding down deep on your cock and rubbing against your full balls, and he starts babbling for you to “breed me! Please—”
“I-I’ll breed you,” you groan, leaning your head back into the sofa cushions and chasing your release, chasing the release you both want, the one he wants so desperately stuffed up deep inside him. “Gonna fill you right up, just like you want, sweetheart.” 
He babbles more—a mix of syllables and words, more pleas for you to breed him—until he’s silenced by his own high-pitched whine, cumming around you and slathering you in creamy-white. The steady clench and release of his cunt forces you to your own end, thick cum slowly leaking out from the edges of his cunt and your cock. (You can hardly tell what’s your leaking cum and what is his own.)
“Thank you,” he mumbles, already beginning to doze. “Th’nk you:” quieter, more muddled against your ear.
You grab the throw you have across the sofa’s armrest, rucking it up around the two of you; you cocoon Lyney safe in your arms and on your softened cock. He’s nodded off, now, and he misses your words: “You don’t have to thank me,” you say anyway, even if he doesn’t hear you, “I love you.”
The cum’ll be sticky, later, when you wake up; but for now, it’s perfect. It’s perfectly warm and entirely cozy, wholly snuggled up with the love of your life. Your headache, the stressors of the day—they’re all forgotten in his presence. 
You’re so, so glad to love him. 
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“Hi, puppy,” you coo. The sound of your own voice grates you, but you ignore it to sweetly smile at your beloved. He stands there, motionless for a moment right there at the threshold before the foyer, until he shakes his head with a barely-there laugh. “Gorou?” 
He tilts his head to the side—this you can see, the silhouette of him in the moonlight—before he takes a tentative step forward. 
Then another. And another. Another, another, another, ‘till he’s standing in front of you and leans up to kiss your jaw. “Hi,” he repeats, voice ruff (hah!) and hoarse, a little too much so. “Missed ya.”
You tilt your head back to let him mouth at you, and your hands subconsciously come to clutch at his hips, and— “Oh, Gorou,” you mumble, pleasantly aghast, because your hands come into contact with bare, slick skin. “Pent up?”
With a quiet whimper, he tilts his hips forward, into you, pressing against the contact of your fingers on him. You slowly slide your one hand around, sneaking a large handful of his ass before you dip into his cleft, shuddering when your fingertip easily glides across his slicked, open cunt. 
“I-I wanted you, so bad,” he starts to mumble, shy, tucking his head into the meat where your shoulder meets your neck. Without any prompting, you adjust your stance, pressing your knee into his cock and making him jerk forward with another whimper high in his throat. “Oh!”
Slowly, his hips begin grinding—it’s a weak movement, testing, making sure you're really okay with this, right now. He moves unsure against you until you begin bumping your knee, letting his slick make a mess of your pant leg. “Go on,” you goad him on, soft, holding him snug against you. You can feel his cunt clench even through the fabric of your pants, a rapid rat-a-tat-tat against you that is oddly reminiscent of the headache you can feel begin to dissipate. “Take your pleasure, pup.”
He nods vehemently against you, beginning to hump as his tail swishes side to side, side to side, hypnotizing you just slightly. It’s hard to parse it out in the dark, but the shadow of it is undeniable behind him. Each bounce of your leg makes Gorou whimper, and he’s quick to crane his neck up for a kiss to muffle himself. You grant his request easily, but only for a minute; after, you gently part from him to murmur, so quiet that only he could possibly hear, those big, soft ears of his twitching as he strains, “What else do you want, honey?” 
“Want you,” he whines, grinding harshly once, twice. “Want you inside me, want you to breed me.” 
You didn’t expect that, but you’re a doctor, after all; it’s kinda in the job description to roll with the punches, so you do. “You wanna get fucked full of pups?” you ask, teasing and light, but Gorou’s mouth parts as a loud whine crawls out of his chest.
“Yes! Please.” Thick tears begin to drop from his eyes, saltwater dribbling onto the bare skin of your throat. “Now, now—breed me now,” he begs, and you coo at him, bringing your hands to curl into his hair, rubbing soothing circles into the base of one puppydog ear. 
“Patience, pup.” 
And, because he’s Gorou, and Gorou is nothing but a good boy, he nods, rapid-quick movements of his head, and begins to slow on your thigh. Heat shimmers low in your belly as he steps back from you on shaky legs, a wet splotch across your leg from his cunt. You bring a hand down, meaning to scoop it up off your pant, but your finger brushes two distinctly different textures: his natural slick, and fuckin’ lube. “Did you prepare yourself for me?”
“Y-yeah,” he mutters, tail tucking itself between his legs. You almost cringe at that, knowing he’s smearing himself into his own fur, but if he doesn’t mind, then you won’t either; besides, it’s hard to truly care when your boyfriend is so bashful in front of you. “I—I missed you, ‘nd wanted to be ready for you.”
The image of Gorou, ass up on the bed with four of his fingers stuffed up inside of himself flitters across your mind, makes your cock throb in your britches. Your erection was easy to ignore, earlier; but now it’s abject torture. 
However, it’s not nearly as torturous as it was for your boyfriend, and you know this. You know he didn’t cum, know his fingers are far too short to truly reach in deep and press against his g-spot, know his wrist can’t comfortably bend to jerk himself off and finger himself at the same time. So you coo, soft, “Sweet boy. Where’s your toy?”
“Charging,” he mutters. 
You grin at that: it’s perfect. “Can you go get it then, puppy?” 
With an audible swallow, he nods, rushing for your bedroom. You follow behind him, lethargic but so, so turned on; and while he’s grabbing the vibrator from the corner, you shuck off the rest of your clothes and plop yourself down on the edge of your bed. 
He must not expect you to have followed him, however, because once he turns around, he jumps, ears flattening to his head in embarrassment. You only laugh and pat your lap. “C’mere.”
Quickly—and toy in tow—, he shuffles over to you. He stands awkwardly in front of you for a moment before you murmur, “I said c’mere,” and tug him to straddle your lap. The position immediately forces his cock—slick n’ thick, out of its hood and throbbing incessantly—against yours, and he mewls helplessly for a moment, grinds once, twice again, before he grabs the lube to the side of you. 
You hadn’t even noticed it there, but now that he’s grabbed it, pointed it out, you feel other wet spots beneath you. He fuckin’ masturbated here, right on the duvet you both sleep under, thinkin’ about you and only you. You’re taking out of your musings when he slathers up your cock in lube, messy and sloppy, and then he’s rising, positioning you, and sinking right on down.
“Mm!” he cries out, swiveling his hips to take you in deeper, deeper, deeper. You groan at the lube-slick combination that smothers your cock in Gorou, Gorou, Gorou. “Breed me, breed me!” Each meak plea makes your cock pulse inside him, and he mewls at each throb inside him. “Please!”
“I got you, pup,” you murmur, your edge so close you can taste it on the tip of your tongue. “Just make yourself feel good, and I’ll breed you, okay? Okay, puppy?”
“Okay, okay—” 
You grin. “Good boy,” you say, and then he’s tumbling over the edge and bringing you right down with him. You groan into his throat, feeling the vibrations of his whimpers n’ whining moans as he’s getting thoroughly bred. Your hands ruck up his shirt to hold his sides and soothe him down from his high. “You did so good for me, sweetheart. Bred you just like I promised I would, hm?”
He weakly nods. “Thank you,” he mumbles, nosing at your throat. 
And, well. You’re bloody exhausted, and you promised to breed him, and he can’t keep on being bred if you pull out. You tell yourself you’re only upholding your promise as Gorou falls asleep on your cock, breathing deep on your lap: tell yourself that it’s the lingering tiredness that suddenly seems to hit you in full-force that keeps him warm and snug on you. 
Really, clean-up can wait. 
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i got a lil' carried away on lyney's part ,, o(*^@^*)o also, none of these were really cowgirl 'cos reader was sitting up for it . . . i couldn't think of how to have him lay flat in these scenarios LOLL
13 MAR. 2024, @rosedom, rosey .
534 notes · View notes
livingemkayde · 10 months
Text
barbecue
neighbor!joel miller/dbf!joel miller x f!reader
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Warnings: Rated 18+. Minors please dni. Smut. Oral; f!receiving, fingering; f!receiving. Semi public fingering. Pet names. Not proof read.
a/n: guys. the love on ride literally changed my life. like actually. thank you so much for the support. due to the love on the one shot, consider this part 2 (and also my token of deep gratitude). if you haven't already, please check out my masterlist! im writing a din fic so if you want to read more of me, you know where to find it. last thing, my shit keeps getting community labeled so spread the word to change ur settings i guess?? dont really know how to fix that, i give warnings at the top of every fic. really really last thing, i live and breathe for your comments/asks/submissions, i will consider your requests for future parts if you guys want one. love you all tysm
edit: gonna continue with this and make it a small series. comment or message me if you would like to be added to the tag list!!!
wc: 4.5k
this is apart of my small dbf!joel mini series, read the previous parts here:
part i
if you would like to read more of mine: masterlist!
The ride back is silent.
He just kind of pushed you off his lap and back into the passenger’s seat—then started to drive you home without another word. You were too scared to say anything—you sat, body completely facing him—mouth hanging open like you wanted to say something, but you had no idea what to say to that. 
To rejection. 
Your dad’s call had really killed the vibe. Whenever you looked over at Joel he had a certain scowl that told you he didn’t want to talk about it—didn’t want to talk to you. 
But you wanted to talk to him. 
You really did—like you worship the ground he walks on because he’s Joel Miller, and he just pushed you off his lap after sticking his fingers inside you, and you seemingly can’t get enough. 
“So are we gonna talk about—” you look over at him but he cuts you off in an instant. 
“No.” 
“No? Joel—” 
“I said no,” he gives you a quick glance then turns back to the road. 
That shut you up. You feel kind of dejected. Like maybe it was a heat of the moment type thing. But it didn’t feel like that to you, if the quiet heartbreak settling in your chest is any indication. 
You turn to look out the window when you feel tears prick your eyes—your throat becoming heavy. 
All he gives you is a long sigh that pushes through the car. 
When he pulls into your driveway, he doesn’t even put the car in park, just switches gears to reverse so he can back out just as quickly. 
Great. 
You mumble a quick thanks and exit—if you slammed the door—you didn’t notice over the ringing in your ears. 
You enter your house, rubbing your hands over your face. When you shut the front door, your head is spinning. You rest your forehead against it but a voice—your dad’s voice—snaps you out of it. 
“Library?” 
You spin around to look at him. 
Fuck. 
You have to keep it together.
“Yeah,” you reply. But even to your ears, you sound a little breathless. 
“That Joel?” He tries to peer out the window of the front door—you know he can see the pick-up pulling out of the drive and into Joel’s across the street. Your dad doesn’t look skeptical—more confused than anything. 
“Yeah. He was nice enough to give me a ride back,” you remove your shoes and start to walk towards the stairs. You need to leave before your cheeks turn beet red. 
You think he’s about to let you off the hook. You’re halfway up the stairs, giving him a small smile goodbye, and he slips in his last question—
“No books?” 
Fuck. 
God. 
Think.
Fuck. 
“N-nothing good there. I need…special—books for my research,” you try to take one more step but he raises his eyebrow at your response and you freeze. 
Special books? What the fuck are you thinking? What does that even mean? 
You wait, breathless. And he kinda scowls at the floor then takes one more look up at you.
“Alright then,” he says and stalks off towards the living room —you let out a staggered breath.
Thank god. 
_
The next few days roll into one long sleepless night. You toss and turn when you remember what happened in the truck. You aren’t embarrassed—but you’re hurt more than anything. 
Joel Miller. 
The last time you saw him, 2 summers ago, he was teaching you how to drive—you asked your dad, but he had said something about how he'd get too frustrated if he tried to teach you. 
He asked Joel to give you your first lesson that night.
You remember sitting in the same truck, but in the driver's seat. He reached over to point out something on the speedometer, and you kept staring at his face instead of the dash—when he looked over and saw you weren’t paying attention he teased you. 
But it was different. 
Not like the teasing from a couple days ago. 
You knew it was playful—this new teasing felt flirtatious. Like he actually cares if you’re seeing someone. 
Cared. 
Fuck. 
You admittedly cried about it. A lot. And didn’t get out of bed much in the days since. 
Your dad miraculously pulled through with the barbecue. It's actually funny how the one time you want him to forget something—he’s way too enthusiastic about it and somehow ends up inviting the whole neighborhood and then some.
Your dad asks you if you want to invite Liam as you lie in bed, you give him a shrug—not really hearing him. If Liam comes, who cares. If Liam doesn’t come, who cares. You certainly don’t. Liam isn’t really anything compared to a certain forty something year old who just rejected you in possibly the worst way imaginable. 
Pathetic is probably the right word. You feel pathetic. Like maybe you’re just another woman in the neighborhood who has a crush on Joel that he would never go for. Like you were a mistake.  
It's certainly what he made you feel like. 
The day of the barbecue comes around and you haul yourself out of bed and into a sundress. Your dad is freaking out downstairs about the logistics of being able to feed the—honestly horrific—amount of people he’s invited. How they’re all going to fit in your backyard is a mystery to you.
You know Joel’s gonna be there—and you don’t know if you can stomach seeing him. The thought makes you a bit dizzy. 
People start flooding in, all giving you a smile, hug, and congratulations as they walk through the house. You try to put on your best face but when every knock or doorbell ringing could be Joel, you bite your lip and furrow your brows. 
There’s a lot of people. And by a lot—there’s probably close to 60 people in this house—spread through the backyard—and you can only really name 20. 
Your phone buzzes and your heart drops a bit. You don’t know why. Joel doesn’t text you. 
Sarah Miller: on our way soon
Fuck. 
You like the message and go to turn off your phone when a certain notification catches your eye. 
Liam Moore: excited to see you :)
So your dad had invited him. You groan a bit, but you can’t be too mad.
You slink to the backyard, saying hi to everyone as you move to find your dad. He’s standing with some men you recognize from the neighborhood. They all congratulate you again and you give them a smile and a thank you in return. 
“You invited Liam?” you say under your breath when the group of men go back to talking. 
“Yeah? I don’t really know what this—” he shrugs his shoulders dramatically “—means so I invited him just in case.” When you don’t respond he continues. 
“That a problem sweetheart?” He looks at you, worried. 
“No, no—I—thank you, dad. I mean it, really. This is awesome,” you give him a small smile and hug. 
You turn towards the entrance of the backyard and see Joel and Sarah walking through the sliding doors. He catches your eye almost immediately—then drops your gaze.
He looks—good. Sporting a couple 6 packs of beer in each hand, Sarah carrying one more behind him. He moves through the crowd easily, saying hi to everyone in passing. God, he looks like a celebrity. It makes you roll your eyes a bit and chug down some of the beer in your hand. 
When he arrives you move past him and greet Sarah. She screams (which makes everyone look at the two of you) and gives you a hug, jumping into your arms. It’s nice to see her. She congratulates you and starts telling you her entire life story that has been the past two years in response to your simple “How’ve you been?” 
You missed her. And you should have stayed in touch more—but you were extremely busy—your dad was lucky to get a phone call once a week. 
“But, he’s not important anymore—isn’t it crazy how fast men can move on? God. Anyways, congratulations again!” She really does move a mile a minute, “Dad, did you say congrats?” 
Her words hit you like a truck—her story, very—ironic—considering your situation with the man she’s pulling over by the bicep. 
“Uh yeah. Hey kid,” he says, not really meeting your eye. 
“‘Hey kid’? Dude—” Sarah gives him a knowing look and pushes him towards you. 
Joel wraps his arm around you—you feel like you can’t breathe. Your face touches his chest and you retract back from the hug like you’ve been burned. It sure feels like it. 
“Congrats,” he gives you a nod and clears his throat. 
Sarah rolls her eyes and gives you a look, her face saying; ‘god why is my dad so weird?’ You try to laugh it off and hope no one notices your blush. 
Thankfully, she pulls you away from him, you toss a look over your shoulder and see him staring back at you. 
_
Liam arrives shortly after. You leave Sarah with some neighborhood friends and make your way to the front door. 
When you open it, you’re pleasantly surprised. 
Liam is—hot? 
You only remember his 12th grade image—sporting hair that was a bit too short for his head and some ill fitting clothes but this is—different. 
He looks nice. Polished. 
Different from what you remembered, or what you expected. 
“Hey!” he says and brings you into a hug. 
“Hey Liam,” you chuckle into his arm.
“Good to see you! I didn’t know if we would ever get together. Have you been getting my calls?” he pulls back and gives you a soft look. 
You feel bad. 
“Uh, I think my dad is like super bad with the phone. I didn’t know you had been calling the house till like yesterday,” you reply sheepishly. God, starting this out with a lie. 
“Hey no worries, anyways, congratulations!” His hand lands on your back as you move to let him inside. It trails a bit lower and you try not to think too much about it. 
“Yeah, you too—Princeton right?” You hope that’s right—you haven’t been keeping up with him. 
“Oh uh Yale, but close enough,” he chuckles and accepts the beer you hand him. 
“Shit. Sorry, I—you know—my brain,” you touch his arm, gently, in apology—and you can’t help but notice the muscle underneath his shirt. “You enjoyed it?” 
“Oh yeah. It was great. Going to Columbia for law school.” 
Hm. Smart. 
“Wow! That’s—wow. Congrats. Really, Liam, that’s awesome,” you say, and you mean it. He’s impressing you. And he’s not so hard on the eyes either. 
It almost makes you forget about your dad’s best friend. Almost. 
Liam pulls you into small talk—you walk him around the house while introducing him to the people you do know—while purposefully trying to avoid the backyard until he suggests getting some air. 
Your dad is the first to greet you—drunk. He’s standing next to Joel. 
“Hey! You made it!” He slurs. Oh god. 
“Yeah thanks for the invite sir,” Liam extends his hand to shake your dad’s. 
“Yeah, yeah…this is Joel,” your dad says as they drop hands. 
Liam extends his to Joel and you bite your lip and almost have to look away out of embarrassment when he takes it. 
“Liam,” he says while shaking. Liam’s eyes turn down to their hands joined and grimaces a bit.
“Joel.” 
“Nice to meet you sir,” Liam says. You can tell he’s trying to drop Joel’s hand. 
“Likewise.” 
Joel lets the handshake go on for far too long. An awkward cloud blankets the air. Liam looks at you and when you meet his eye, you drop his gaze and peek over at Joel. Your dad hardly seems to notice in his drunken state but Joel seems mad—and Liam seems scared. 
When Joel finally lets Liam’s hand go, Liam shakes it out a bit like it’s been crushed. 
Fuck. 
You give Joel a glance and he’s looking back at you—though you can’t read his eye. You shake your head a bit and try to brush it off. You can feel his looks through your father’s conversation. He remains silent—just the occasional scan at Liam when his hand comes to rest on your lower back again. A flick in his jaw is the only indication he might have any emotions towards this situation. 
After some small talk you attempt to pull Liam away. Your dad is way too drunk and Joel is way too brooding for you to witness any longer. 
When you both walk away, you can feel Joel’s hardened gaze bore into the back of your head. It sends shivers through you. 
“You know that guy?” Liam whispers when you exit.
“Yeah, he’s uh—he’s my neighbor,” you stutter. 
“Thought my hand was gonna fall off,” he mutters, looking down at it. 
You smile and just try to laugh it off. 
_
You’re sitting on some lawn chairs with Liam. It's been nice catching up with him. He’s really grown up since the last time you spoke. You wanted to ghost him because he seemed immature. Like the kid you knew four years ago. But this was nice. He was more your speed now. 
And he wasn’t fingering you then pushing you off him in the next instance—which was nice. 
 “I had a good time today,” he says, leaning back on the chair and looking to the side towards you. 
“Me too. Thanks for coming,” you say, smiling back at him. 
“Would you want to—like—get dinner sometime? I know you just got back but…” 
That kind of throws you for a loop. Sure, talking to him at a party is one thing. Dinner—a date—is another. But when your gaze catches Joel standing behind Liam’s head—talking to some woman you don’t recognize—it’s like your mind's made up for you. 
“Sure. That’d be nice,” you say. Liam gives you a smile back. 
You walk him to the door after a bit more talking. Liam said he had something he had to do—you didn’t really hear much after you saw Joel talking to that lady. The kitchen area is still busy with guests—it almost seems like people are still coming in. 
He gives you a kiss on the cheek as he bids you goodbye. You don’t blush. You don’t really do much of anything. 
When you shut the door you let out a huff. This day has been entirely too much and you’re already tired from the thought of seeing your dad drunk again and Sarah’s hyperactive love life she still has to fill you in on.  
“You dating’ him?” 
You whip around to find Joel entering your space. His hands shoved in his pockets. 
You scoff. He doesn’t get to do this. He doesn’t get to weave in and out of your life when it’s convenient for him. 
“Just leave Joel,” you say, defeated. You don’t want to play this game with him anymore. 
“Smart kid,” he notes but he doesn’t sound that genuine and you really can’t deal with this right now. 
“What’s your problem?” you say, hushed, but no one seems to be paying attention to your conversation. 
“I ain’t got one.”
“The handshake, Joel? C’mon,” you say, shaking your head while looking down at the ground “Fucking asshole,” you mutter under your breath.
“What’d you say?” He asks—angry. 
“I said you’re a fucking asshole,” you meet his eye. That doesn’t surprise him, but you definitely surprise yourself. He looks angrier. If that’s possible. 
He lets it simmer for a bit before speaking again. 
“‘S none of my business.”
“Yeah. It’s not. So stop shooting daggers at him and trying to break his hand.”
“So he’s gonna be comin’ around more often?” 
“Do I need your permission?” 
“No. Just curious," Jesus christ. He’s making you furious. 
“Why?”  
“You know why.” 
That makes your eyes go wide and you stare back at him in shock. How could he be throwing this back in your face after he ignored you?
“No—” you scoff “—I really don’t.” 
He pauses—like he was about to say something snippy—but after hearing your response he falters. He almost looks hurt. Good. You want him to hurt as much as you were. 
“Hey! There you are!” a neighbor you recognize—a younger man, Mason, accompanied by the same woman Joel was just talking to, “C’mon over—lets me get you guys a drink.”
You follow Mason, Joel follows suit. His brooding energy feels uneasy from behind you. 
You and Joel come around to the empty side of the kitchen island and watch as Mason makes you both a drink. Your hand comes down to play with the hem of your dress but Joel’s standing so close to you that his fingers brush yours, you retract away. 
You and Joel stand in between the kitchen counter and the island. Mason and woman opposite you on the other side of the island. 
“So? School was good?” Mason asks like he’s been keeping up with you. 
“Yeah! Yeah, finished up some research—I’m back for the summer but I need to get a job,” you reply sheepishly with a chuckle. He starts talking about how he went to Texas Tech, and you stop paying attention. 
You peek over at Joel beside you, sipping his beer while looking at Mason talking. You doubt Joel is listening. 
“Anyways! A toast! What a smart kiddo—your dad should be really proud,” Mason says while leaning over the island to meet your glass, you and Joel both do the same. 
When you’re coming back from the toast, lips curling around the rim of the glass, Joel's hand lands on your lower back. 
No one can see—the counter coming up to your waist, with no one nearby except for the pair standing across the counter. Joel's standing so close to your side that they don’t even bat an eye when his hand starts to drift lower. 
You choke on your drink—looking at him from the corner of your eye. 
“You okay sweetheart?” The woman asks.
“Yeah—y-yeah. ‘M fine,” you say through a couple of coughs. 
She looks at you, then back at Joel, giving him a smile—then starts talking with Mason again. 
You bite your lip to keep from bursting. You peak over at him again but he remains cool, unmoving, nodding his head every once in a while at the conversation. 
Your dress is short and it rides up with his hand, moving across your backside. 
You bring your cup to your lips, attempting to hide your mouth when you let out a small—
“What the hell are you doing?” under your hushed breath. 
Of course, he doesn’t respond. He doesn’t even look your way. 
You know you could just walk away. Just excuse yourself from the conversation, leaving him and this woman who obviously wants him, behind. But something deep inside you doesn’t want to. Even through all the hurt he put you through—the heartbreak. You still want him, even if this is wildly inappropriate—and you don’t know how much longer you can go before you break. 
His fingers toy with the hem of your dress, eventually threatening to your panties after he hikes the dress up over his hand. 
The pair in front of you are now talking about some raccoon who keeps terrorizing the neighborhood trash cans and you really couldn’t care less. 
You couldn't care less when he pushes your panties to the side to nudge his fingers through your slick. 
His breath hitches at the feeling of you already soaking. His pointer finger catches on your clit, and you forget how the day started. 
“You sure you’re okay sweetie? You look a little pale,” she continues. God. Annoying. 
“Yeah—sorry. Just a bit tired. Long d-day—” the tip of his finger pushes into you. The pair gives you a confused look and you smile back in the hopes they drop it—and they do—thank god. 
“So that kid Liam, your dad said?” Mason gives you a teasing look. 
“Yeah—Liam. I knew him in high school,” you try to keep your wavering voice to a minimum. 
“You guys look good together. Cute couple,” the woman says and you almost choke.
Not because you and Liam are definitely not dating but because at her comment, Joel sinks a finger deep into you and you try not to conceal your whimper with a cough. 
You can feel him huff and let out a small chuckle beside you. 
“Oh we’re not dating, just friends,” you reply with a breathy laugh. You grip the counter so hard it might break.
“Just friends huh? Looked cozy though,” Joel quips from beside you. His tone is teasing like he’s talking to a friend. The pair in front of you laugh. 
“Yeah just friends, Joel,” you try to chuckle with them but it's hard when his finger begins to pump in and out of you while a second nudges at your entrance. 
The thickness of his fingers leaves you breathless while your head spins. 
You can hear your dad from outside—starting to come in and you know you need to leave.  
Joel hears it too, and his fingers slow. 
You reach behind you when the pair isn’t looking, and carefully but quickly, pull his hand away. You almost moan at the loss of his fingers. 
“Excuse me,” you look at the pair, raising your glass to them and give Joel a meet me upstairs look while you slink away quickly. 
You enter the guest bedroom—you don’t want him to see the messy state of your room from unpacking. 
When you shut the door, you let out a small scream—he’s driving you up the walls—and you keep coming back for more. But he needs to know you’re not just for the taking.
The door opens and shuts as you stand with your back facing it, but you know it’s Joel.
“What the fuck Joel?” you turn, exasperated, “What the fuck are you doing?” 
He doesn’t say anything. Just stands there with a hand on his hip. 
When he doesn’t respond you continue—“You can’t just fuck with me whenever you feel like.” 
“I ain’t fuckin’ with you.” 
“You have got to be kidding me,” you say, hands coming to run over your face. “Then what was that downstairs?” No response again. “Is this about Liam?” 
Finally he breaks—“I don’t care about that kid.” 
God, it's like pulling teeth. 
“You don’t care?” you let out a breathless laugh, “Right. Okay. Really seemed like it when you almost broke his hand."
“What?” He steps closer to you, you take one back, “You want me to care?”
“No—I—Jesus, Joel.” You feel like crying, but you bite your lip instead. 
He takes more steps towards you, and you take some more back. Your back hits the wall with a thud and you gasp. 
“You want me to care?” he repeats his statement, a dark, husky drawl wrapping around his words. “‘Bout your little boy toy?” 
You can’t find your words. 
The air is different between you. It’s like he knows that no matter how hard you try, you can’t ever get away from him. That he swirls through your thoughts despite your hardest efforts.
You begin to nod your head before you know what you’re doing. 
His hand comes up and runs his thumb over your bottom lip. 
“Open,” he says while pushing his thumb into your mouth—and you do. 
He eyes your mouth, taking his thumb, instinctively sucking on it as he pushes it down on your tongue. 
“Good girl,” he breathes out.
He takes his thumb out of your mouth, running it over your bottom lip—then he moves—and you think he’s going to leave, but he drops down to his knees instead. 
“I do care. Care quite a bit,” he mumbles into the skin of your legs as his hands roam the backs of your thighs. 
He trails kisses up the inside of your legs—his nose disappearing under your dress—but his eyes stay trained on you. 
He reaches up to push your dress to your stomach, and you hold it for him on instinct. 
His nose rubs against your clothed cunt, placing soft kisses there—you let out a strangled moan. 
“Joel…” you let out in a staggered breath. 
He shakes his head like he’s trying to say don’t, and the movement rubs against your clit and your head hits the wall behind you. 
Joel’s hand comes down to push your panties to the side, holding it there. You squirm when the air hits your dripping core. 
He throws one of your legs over his shoulder so he can access you better. Your heel digs into his back in attempts to bring his mouth closer. 
“Fuck, angel,” he says when he sees your wetness. “Always so wet.” 
“Please Joel, I—” his lips come to wrap around your clit, you’re cut off with a strangled moan. 
He sucks and his tongue darts out to flick your clit, then back down to taste your dripping entrance. He groans against you, and the vibrations shoot through your core. 
“Fuck Joel—I—” you know this isn’t right. You asked him up here to put him in his place, but when his tongue does that on you and your orgasm is quickly approaching, you can’t seem to remember what you wanted to talk to him about, “—God. Please—” 
You’re not even sure what you’re begging for. Maybe it’s your sad attempts to try and get him to stay with you.
His hand comes up between your legs. His fingers dance over your entrance, soaking it in your wetness. 
The tip of his middle finger prods, but doesn’t sink in like you expect. It makes you squirm and whine nonsense to him. 
“You want him, baby? You wish it was him instead?” He says when he pauses and looks up at you. 
“No—no. God—I—you. Joel, want you,” you whine, and moan even louder when he pushes two fingers in at your response.
“That’s it, good girl,” he says when your walls stretch around his fingers. You feel like you might come just from the feeling of them pushing in—and you get even closer when he pumps them at a slow pace. 
It feels like an apology. Like he’s on his knees begging you to forgive him. But you know him better. It’s more like he’s proving he’s gonna be the only one for you ever. Even when you have boys thinking about you 24/7, and you can’t even spare them a single thought. 
“Joel—I—ah—” 
His lips return back to your clit, sucking and flicking and it pushes you over the edge. He can feel you pulsing around him, whispering a soft, “fuck are you coming?” his shock, evident in his tone. 
You push his head back to your clit, and he works on it, pushing you into white oblivion as you slump against the wall. 
You stand there, panting, for a bit. His own breath coming hot onto your skin while he looks up at you. 
When he slowly removes his fingers and lets your leg down from his shoulder, you moan quietly.
“Kiss me,” you plead, still writhing from your orgasm. 
“Get back to your party,” is all he says while straightening out your dress, and leaving the room. 
_
part iii
1K notes · View notes
xazse · 2 months
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I NEED A SEQUAL TO YOUR AFAB!GOJO X READER
AFAB!GOJO x MALE!READER
Notes: listen listen, ur gonna be mad at me but I had to this was the only way I had seen it ending! AND IF YOU DONT LIKE IT JUST LMK AND ILL DO AN ALTERNATIVE ENDING! And I think you meant my recent one? The Afab gojo
Tags: Smut, mentions of Afab!Geto, titjob, cuckholding, The readers actions might not align with yours! Just wanted to let some of you guys know and reader is kind of a bastard. 😭
Pairings: Afab!gojo x male!reader
Satoru despises this right now, he hates it, after your night together, with you fucking him so good in your car, He finds himself wanting to so badly at night, hell even in the mornings hes going crazy. Rubbing his clit for so long it starts to sting, night after night he’s fucking himself with his fingers.
You weren’t lying when you said you had been watching Suguru for a while now, he sees your drifting eyes when he’s in your proximity, he sees it all. Satoru can admit his best friend really is pretty, gandering attention from men and women, he just wishes you weren’t apart of that crowd.
So he’s devised a plan to keep Suguru away from you at all times. He changes his and Sugurus route to school, (they live together and travel everywhere together) he has your classes memorized so that was also easy. Suguru had brought up questions about the changes but he quickly reassured him that nothing was wrong: that he just wanted a change of scenery.
Suguru doesn’t know you, and Satoru wants to keep it that way. He truly doesn’t know why he’s doing all of this for you, I mean he could definitely score someone “better” than you, funnier than you, and just a lot more nicer in general but he keeps finding himself craving you even more.
It seems to work, everything is working in his favor… but you.. you’re a little too quiet, over the years Satoru’s noticed you’re rather upfront with the people you want, so why haven’t you made an attempt at Suguru from the start?
“Attachment: 2 images”
His phone goes off again
“Attachment: 1 video”
Image one consists of Suguru on his knees, with his face covered in cum, seemingly your cum, and dried tears.
Image two is Suguru with his pretty tits, pressed up around your cock, a cute cloudy smile decorating his face.
Satoru feels like time has stopped around him, he doesn’t blame Suguru at all since he hadn’t known of his and yours weird relationship, but you, you’re a bastard through and through, But Satorus fingers don’t stop him from clicking on the video.
It’s Suguru with his legs spread on a table facing forward, facing the camera. He can see all of Sugurus bits, he can see the way you’re sliding in him inch by inch, he can hear Suguru whining at the mere stretch of you. Sugurus hand flies up to his mouth to muffle some of the groans spilling out, then you begin fucking him ruthlessly, even with this you’re still holding the camera perfectly, making sure to rub it in Satorus face even more.
He can hear the lewd wet slapping sounds of your pelvis meeting sugurus ass, the glistening of your slick mixing together already.
He knows Suguru can feel the sting in his pussy when you do slam back into him, knows that it feels so fucking mind numbing and good. You use one of your hands to push his leg towards his shoulder to get deeper and a better angle. Suguru is wrecked with loud sobs of pleasure, one of his hands maneuver to his clit and he begins circling it roughly.
Satoru feels his own clit needing to be touched, his panties are soaking wet three minutes into the video, interrupted he can hear Suguru talking or at least attempting: “please..please.. I wanna..” by this point his hair is strewn all over his face, sticking in some places, he doesn’t even seem to be all there, you’ve reduced the poor man into nothing.
Satoru feels awful, his heart feels heavy, his body is on fire, he doesn’t have anyone he can call at this late hour to help him release his frustrations. He uses his dildo that night, it doesn’t compare it never will, he fucks himself on it for hours and hours, repeating your video everytime. He’s milking his pussy till tears are streaming down his face, but his hips won’t stop.
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sehnsuchts-trunken · 1 year
Text
Jake Seresin And The Unfortunate Hat Situation
jake seresin x fem!reader 3k words
summary: You’re visiting Jake’s family in Texas for the first time and so far, it’s been going well. Just that Jake may have forgotten to mention the hat rule. 
another cowboy fic because i fucking can
disclaimer: strong allusions to smut. im not kidding. this is basically straight up dirty talk all the way through
a/n: i’m warning you once about all the inaccuracies in here and thats it. read at your own risk. i have literally no clue whatsoever about texas and/or cowboys and did not have it in me to research cowboy history for hours on end, like- i tried, okay? i really did try. i know facts about cowboy hats now that i never felt the need to know (though “dont sleep with your cowboy hat on”, um... yeah? thanks? i totally would have done that otherwise) but i still do not have the information to back this shit up lmao
top gun masterlist
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(yes i did have to use an everybody wants some gif. during the past week ive rewatched this film more times than i can count and i will take every opportunity i get to talk about it)
“Enlighten me”, you chuckled, spreading your arms, a bottle of beer in your right hand. “Why are none of the cowboys wearing cowboy hats? Isn’t that kind of their thing?”
You were visiting Texas for the first time - a week off of work, away from the Navy and the Dagger Squad for a bit, to meet Jake’s friends and family back home. You’d talked to most every one of them over the phone whenever he had found the time to call, but you’d never actually met them in person before this. So it had been an adventure from the start: getting on a plane in San Diego to take you to Texas where Jake had grown up, being picked up at the airport by his mother, driving two hours to the farm they owned (”You grew up on a farm?”, you’d asked when he’d told you, wheezing at the mental image of teenage Jake herding sheep), meeting his dad, being surprised by both his sisters, getting to see his childhood bedroom. 
And then, to top it off: the sound of his alarm at the crack of dawn this morning to go teach you how to ride a horse. 
Needless to say that you’d been buzzing with nervous energy for the past few days. Not that you weren’t happy - it was just all a bit much at once. 
After lunch he’d taken you into the city and you’d gone shopping for some real cowboy boots. He’d planned to take you to a bar in the evening, to introduce you to some friends. After all you only had a week here and neither of you felt like missing out on something. 
When you’d wanted to try cowboy hats in the store too, Jake had snatched them from you and grabbed your hands, pulling you close to him, telling you that you’d get one when you’d become a real cowgirl. Since you doubted that would ever happen, you’d pouted and tried to convince him with kisses and, when that hadn’t worked, half-hearted threats, but he wouldn’t be persuaded even the slightest. He’d only looked down at you with raised eyebrows until you’d caved and satisfied yourself with cursing under your breath. 
So here you were: Cowboy boots, jeans shorts and a button-up and no cowboy hat in sight. 
Actually, there was one in sight. Jake was wearing his, in all his Texan glory, laughing with some of his friends at the bar. The thing was, he was the only guy wearing his hat. There were some cowboys strutting about with them on their heads, but most of them didn’t have one - hat hair, yes, but no hat. Hence your initial question: “Why are none of the cowboys wearing cowboy hats?” 
“Shit, Jake didn’t tell you?”, Kendra - one of Jake’s only female friends here, who’d immediately decided she liked you and pulled you to one of the tables for some girl talk - let out a laugh. “No wonder it’s still on his head. We were getting worried already.” 
It was pretty clear to everyone that you weren’t from around here, so you saw no reason to hide your confusion.
“Now you’ve lost me entirely. What?”, you asked, masking your frown with a laugh. You’d been here for hardly two days and you didn’t think you’d felt as embarrassed ever before. You knew about literally nothing. At least you’d done somewhat well at horseback riding, which could’ve been because of Jake’s arms around you and his hands over yours as you - he - held the reins, but either way you were proud of yourself for not falling off and landing on your ass. 
“It’s like this: Ladies didn’t wear hats for a really long time. Cowboys wore the hats. So when you saw a lady with a cowboy hat on - that was her man’s. A sign that she belonged to him. Property shit and all.” She waved it off as if dismissing the concept. “Changed over the past few decades, of course. Better that way too. Ladies can wear whatever they want now. But the thought kind of stuck. You see a guy without a hat, he’s probably taken. You see a girl with a hat, that’s probably her man’s. And before you ever steal a hat, you should know the hat rule.” 
You raised your eyebrows. Your stomach did weird little flips as she talked. Jake hadn’t explained any of this to you. 
“The hat rule?”, you asked. Kendra grinned and leaned in, pretending to let out some big secret. 
“You wear the hat”, she said and paused for a second for dramatic effect, “You wear the cowboy.” 
You breathed out. 
“Oh.” 
Oh my ass, you thought. 
Jake hadn’t let you buy your own hat for a reason. And then he’d gone ahead and not given you that reason. What the actual fuck. 
You would’ve loved to wear his hat. You would’ve loved the thought of him claiming you like that, letting you wear his hat, showing everyone that yeah, you were Jake Seresin’s girl. But no. He’d left you completely in the dark, hadn’t let a single word slip. And he was still wearing that goddamn hat himself. 
Like a single fucking guy, not a man in a loving relationship.
Somehow, now that you knew, you were more annoyed by the fact that he was wearing it than that he just hadn’t told you at all. God, he could’ve left it at home. He could’ve taken it off. He could’ve just put it on your head without telling you why if he didn’t want to. 
And right there, that was the part you just didn’t understand. Why hadn’t he told you? He should have known you well enough by now to realise that you would absolutely adore wearing that hat. Not only because you wanted to wear a hat (which you did) but also because you wanted to wear his hat (which you did even more). After all, it wasn’t only him claiming you - it was you claiming him as well. And as horrible as the history of that hat rule was, in this present day you felt like it would only have been fair of him to tell you. You wanted to have that chance of showing him off. Of him showing you off, which he did so happily back in San Diego. 
“Hey”, Kendra said, her expression a bit more serious as she put a hand to your arm and pulled you from your thoughts. “I’m sure Jake didn’t mean to hurt you. He may seem like a bastard, but he’s actually a real sweetheart.” 
You snorted at her, nodding along. 
“He is”, you agreed. “Which is kind of why it hurts even more. I don’t get why he wouldn’t just tell me. It’s not like he’s ever been scared I’d say no to him or something.”
Kendra smiled and squeezed your arm reassuringly. 
“Try not to worry about it too much. Just ask him when you get home later, yeah? Communication is key.” Her smile turned into a grin. She winked at you. “And hey, you can always wear my hat if you’d like.” 
You forced yourself to smile as well as you took a sip of your beer. “If I actually were single, I’d definitely take you up on that offer, but I’m not, and I don’t think Jake would like it much.” 
Her grin only deepened. She had dimples, you realised, and the hat on her head matched her eye colour. You were glad to have her here with you. She was someone you were sure you could become good friends with over time. 
“That makes it even better”, she said conspicuously. She leaned back in her chair, crossing her ankles over the edge of the table as she tipped her hat back. “He never told you about the hats. You don’t know anything in his eyes, honey. Use it against him.” 
There was a twinkle in her gaze that told you she was looking for nothing short of mischief and you had the distinct feeling that she’d been the ‘bad influence’ on Jake in high school that he’d talked about so often. She seemed like a troublemaker. But she also seemed genuine. And she was right - in Jake’s eyes, you were getting to know one of his friends, talking about some girly stuff (which he probably assumed was himself), having a nice night. Not learning about cowboy customs that he’d just so forgotten to mention. 
Jake usually didn’t get jealous. He trusted you the same way you trusted him. But he got possessive nonetheless - always with a hand on your back when you were talking to someone he thought was flirting with you, kissing you at the most inappropriate times, making sure that everyone knew you were his. Now he’d had the goddamn chance and hadn’t taken it. And you didn’t fucking know why. 
But you were damn determined to find out. 
Kendra slid the hat off her head and offered it to you. You took one deep breath before you reached for it. 
You let your fingertips skip over the rim for a moment. Were you really about to do this? Then you put it on your head. 
Alright. If Jake wasn’t going to tell you about the way this worked on his own accord, you’d make him tell you. 
Kendra emptied her beer and you followed suit before the both of you got up. She grabbed both bottles in one hand, turning to you to send you another of those winks. 
“I’ll bring these back to the bar and get us new ones. The dancefloor’s all yours.” 
With a nervous smile, you adjusted your newly aqcuired hat and made your way onto the dancefloor. There was soft music playing in the background - country, of course, loud but not loud enough to disturb conversation. It wasn’t late enough for that just yet. Which was honestly a relief, since you had zero clue whatsoever about line dancing or whatever it was they did down here. This way there were only a few couples twirling each other back and forth and some people moving to the beat all on their own. You let out a breath and closed your eyes, allowing yourself to really feel the music: the guitar, the steady drums, the vocals. 
Slowly, you started swaying - from one side to the other, turning, twirling, one step, then the next, heels here, toes there. A grin was making its way onto your face. The music grew, not as much in volume as in pace, and you didn’t know just when you had started to forget about everything except your movements (like the people watching, for example), but then the song changed and you gasped as you realised you knew it. Eyes fluttering open, hands coming together to clap, lips twisting into an actual laugh as you sang along, catching Kendra’s gaze and waving her over. 
She joined you with a laugh, grabbed your hand to twirl you around, and god, her voice was heavenly. For just a split second you wondered how Jake hadn’t ended up falling for her. You certainly would have. 
And speaking - more like thinking, but whatever - of the devil, you felt an all too familiar hand on your shoulder. You turned at the same time that Kendra let go of you, allowing you to admire your boyfriend in all his furious glory. 
Not that he actually looked furious. Not to anyone but you, not with that facade he wore whenever anyone got under his skin. But you, well... You’d been with him long enough to understand that twitch of his jaw, that tension in his shoulders, that flicker in his eyes. And yet - the cowboy hat still sat on his head. 
“I got it from here, Kendra”, he said, eyes fixed on yours, as you held your breath. She snorted, but still made to move away, muttering something under her breath that you didn’t catch. Then Jake spoke again. “Take your hat, Kendra.” 
He grabbed it from where it rested on your head and threw it at her without looking away from you. She sucked in a breath. 
“If you throw my hat again, I’ll kick your ass, Seresin”, she said and you could tell that even though they were friends, she wasn’t kidding. Shit, the people here were really fucking serious about their hats. Another reason why you were mad at Jake for not telling you about any of it. 
“Next time, don’t set it on my girl’s head”, he growled - growled, really, you didn’t know what else to call it. She scoffed and walked off. 
“How could she know I was your girl?”, you whispered, challenging him even though he already looked like you’d crossed some line that he’d drawn without telling you. “How could anyone?” 
For a few moments, he kept quiet. You defiantly stared up at him. Should he think whatever he fucking wanted to, this was entirely his fault. 
Then something changed in his expression. 
“You found out about the hat rule”, he said, “And the first thing you did was go and put on somebody else’s.” 
“Well if my boyfriend doesn’t want to have me wear his hat-” 
You couldn’t react as quickly as Jake had gripped you by the waist and pulled you close to him, forcing you to tip your head back to keep looking at him. He was, in fact, so close now that you could just kiss him and honestly, you were tempted. Just as tempted as you’d been when he’d come out of the bathroom looking like that, just as tempted as you’d been when you’d left the house, just as tempted as you’d been in his truck. But you were also stubborn. And you had good reasons not to kiss him right now (even though they were getting harder and harder to remember by the second).
“Darling, I’d go wild for you with my hat on.” 
You swallowed. Hard. 
“So why am I not wearing it?”, you asked through gritted teeth. You couldn’t quite believe just how easily this whole situation was getting under your skin. But it seriously hurt your ego - and not just that. The fact that Jake hadn’t told you about something so important in his hometown, some, as ridiculous as it may be, piece of culture, something that would so clearly show everyone that you were dating him, really, actually, seriously dating him, stung more than you wanted to admit. It was like someone had asked him outright if he was taken and he’d said no. 
“‘Cause I told you to wait”, he drawled, “Didn’t I? Wait ‘til you’re a real cowgirl.” 
Curiosity and frustration were mixing in your stomach, a weird, dangerous combo. You grabbed for his collar, pulling on it just a bit too hard - nothing he couldn’t stand his ground against. You were feeling insulted by all this and you found that you should let him know. 
“What’s a girl like me gotta do to become one in your eyes, hm, Hangman?” 
Hangman. You only called him that when you meant business. It was like a mother using her child’s full name whenever it got in serious trouble. Jake stiffened, fingers digging into your hips so firmly that you were sure you’d be able to see the marks in the mirror later on. You’d hit a nerve. Always did when you called him by his callsign. No more Jake, no more baby, none of that. 
“Behave”, he said, eyes fixed on yours, that one word carrying so much more meaning. You didn’t care. For once, you really didn’t fucking care. You wanted him riled up, wanted him furious, wanted him right at this breaking point. So you smiled.  
“Like a dog?” 
He’d smashed his lips on yours before you could react. 
All teeth and tongue, decisive, possessive, angry. You didn’t want to give in as quickly as you did. But he hardly left you a choice - he was everywhere, arms wrapped so tightly around you, chest pressed so firmly against yours, not giving you the option to escape, to duck away, to tease him any further. So instead of doing that, instead of making him run after you more, you let him have the control. All of it. Instead of turning, instead of making him chase you, you pulled him close to you by his collar with all the force you could manage, pulled him into you, pulled him with you as you stumbled backwards from the sudden change of weight, put your entire trust in him to keep you upright. You couldn’t breathe. You didn’t want to if that meant letting go. 
Not with how much emotion you were putting into this fucking kiss. 
Jake was the one to break away first. Pupils blown, cheeks reddened (you were sure you looked even worse), panting. You loosened your grip on his collar and ran a hand through your hair instead. 
Somewhere in the back of your head, you remembered that you were still in a bar, still in the middle of the dancefloor, still under the watchful eyes of his friends. A different part was screaming at you to fuck it and fuck him right here, right now. 
“Shit”, he breathed, resting his forehead against yours. His hat let a shadow fall over both your faces. “You’re gon’ be the death of me someday.” 
“Hopefully not too soon”, you teased, a smile playing on your lips as he pulled back just a bit. “I still gotta find out how to become a cowgirl after all.” 
The corner of his mouth quirked up as well. He raised his eyebrows, examining you for a second. 
“You really wanna know, sweetheart?” 
You let out a laugh. “Fuck yeah.” 
He leaned in close, breath ghosting over the shell of your ear, and you had to swallow. This felt intimate, somehow. 
“You’re gon’ be a cowgirl once you rode your cowboy.” 
Your breath caught in your throat. He pulled back with a grin. Smug, you realised. He was so fucking proud of himself for this - for having caught you off guard like that. You couldn’t let him win that easily. Not with that already inflated ego. 
“All of this just to get me into your bed?”, you chuckled. “Damn, Seresin. Lotta work for no reason, hm? I’m in it at the end of every day anyway.” 
He shrugged - as best as he could with his hands still on your waist. 
“What can I say? I aim to please.” 
You couldn’t help but grin too. The angry, sizzling tension had dissolved into something much more pleasant, much more dizzying. Something that set your skin ablaze and your mind on fire. You grabbed one of his hands from your waist and intertwined your fingers with his. 
“Want to get out of here?”, you asked. He leaned in and kissed you with a smile - slow and steady and sensual, wholly different from before. 
When he pulled back, you were breathless again. 
“Always.” 
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privitivium · 1 month
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hihi :3
okay so I'm kinda obsessed with dog hybrid!reader, (and yes this is going to be a teacher/student the g why wouldn't it be?) so like we get a question right our tail wags, talkin with a buddy: tail wags, talking with Teacher? tail wagging so much ommgg dont get me wrong tho as much as i love dog hybrids and stuff i strongly dislike the petnames pup & puppy. so if/when u do this request i ask u steer clear of those PLEASE....(mutt, dog, hound idc)
so scene is maybe we're hangin out with him whether or not his break, after, before school etc etc, perhaps we already have this 'on the down low' relationship and he gets frisky one day and wants to play with us heheh, maybe like grabbing our tail or ears (or petting, and yes "sensitive ear+tail trope is in the room) and moral of the story is maybe he makes us cum without touching our dick (ie tail, tails, nips, neck even?)
sorry its so long dude 😭, love ur drabbles !!
— 🍸
me w cat hybrid dudes.... no worries, thank you for kind words.... both amab, cw for good boy/sweet boy, teacher/student relationship - 18/23, reader has sensitive dog ears and tail.
dom teacher/sub doghybrid reader
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at his house on a weekend... or just before school at his desk. it was a bit routine, already having an ongoing loving relationship with his darling little dog boy... so excitable and so easy to manipulate. playing with your body damn near whenever he fucking pleased - you were just so happy to provide pleasure, weren't you? it's a miracle that he loves you as much as you love him. jerking off to the sounds of your whimpers of your own orgasm over messages. sending pictures of himself messy with cum all over his abdomen - saying it was all because of you,,,. and even routinely teasing you throughout the day. he couldn't help himself-! passing you and giving your ears a soft scratch before continuing down the hallway and leaving you to shrink in embarrassment as your pants grow tighter. always having to keep a huge hoodie on standby...
so, merely soaking in each other's presence. sitting at his desk and watching so intently as he fiddles on his computer; your tail wagging so ferociously, so clearly happy to be around him. he hums softly at the quiet sound of your tail fwipping back and forth... taking a brief moment to admire you as you watch the screen - he couldnt help himself... reaching over to stroke along the furry tendrilㅡhe thinks it's obvious what he wants. heat pooling to his crotch at the memories of you hollowing around his prick - accidental, truly!! he didn't mean to get all horny, man, it's just the natural effect you have on him... it's your own fault... muscle memory and all.
it was just so fucking cute to him. you were too obvious. and you didnt even know it! waving your hand in greeting as your tail whips behind your back at lightning speed... having to act all nonchalant with him, but you couldnt quite control the way your tail fwips back and forth unrelenting... you- you just need to have a little emotional training is all... absentmindedly petting you - very much conscious of the soft little pants leaving your lips - all hot n heavy so suddenly? was it him? his touch? so predictable... he's glad.
"so sweet..." he had the gall to mumble, grinning widely as he tugs you gently to sit on his lap - helping you slide off the desk. so eager to follow orders and sit on his thighs - fangs poking out from your toothy smile. back propped against the edge of his desk... and erection prominent. humming softly, unfazed by the sight of his prized, precious students' bulge that was the product of his teasing. "let's give it some air." he suggests, slowly unzipping your jeans. your head bobbing up and down ecastatically - your eyes nearly glazing with tears of excitement - christ.
you were so much thicker than he was... your half-hard cock dribbling pre and you were breathing so heavily - feeling his own bulge against your ass. he was jealous - damn your genes... but- it was so lovely to tease. and... he'd make quite the show of doing the opposite of that. hands dipping underneath your shirt - careful not to graze your cock... hand reaching up and rubbing along the inner of your ears. tongue nearly lulling past your lips at his affection... just so fucking cute.
your tail nearly defying logic with how speedily it fwips... pulling you forward and reaching back just to tug your tail into view. fluidly stroking it... a soft hum leaving his throat at your closed eyes and furrowed eyebrows... lips parted as he cruelly ignores your aching prick weeping like a broken fountain that needed maintence. so soft... he couldnt help losing himself as he gently pets you - so lovingly... knowing what exactly to make you fidget and squirm on his lap... his hand leaving your tail - just to push your shirt up. revealing your chest ,,, your puffy, hardened nipples he takes no time to abuse. rubbing and pulling... head dipping in the crook of your neck and gently kissing... sucking as he moves back to fondle your tail.,,,
ㅡwith a low whimper escaping your saliva glossy lips - the coiling of your lower intestines - the fluttering feeling of his fingertips ghosting over your overtly sensitive nipples - you just couldn't h-hold backㅡ"ah,,, and look at that..." his voice,,, mumbling. in a trance, as he watches the overflow of cum dribble from the slit of your cockhead with admiration - all that, without touching your prick... so sensitive. you must like him a whole lot, huh? or maybe, you were just that easy,,,
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