#the two of them are trying out something new and a little out of their comfort zone and it pulls new traits out of them

[tonycries]

Welcome To The Itadori's! - C.K.

Synopsis. Three times Choso really, really wanted to hold you without his family barging in, and the one time he actually does. 

Pairing. Best friend! Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, childhood best friends to lovers, slowburn, cameos from the Itadori’s (Yuji, Jin, grandpa, SUKUNA), smút only when they’re adults, first times, oral (female receiving), cúnnilingus, marking, rough, Choso’s a bit mean in bed, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.0k

A/N. The unc-kuna brainrot got me here, Yuji’s family tree is HILARIOUS.

“You’ve never what?”  

“I mean, yeah? So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”

Maybe he was. Maybe he wasn’t. Whatever the answer was, Choso could only pray that no one walked into your apartment right now.

---

Choso swears his family is well and fully intent on ruining every waking moment with you. 

He’s convinced even, at this point. Because in the 13 long years of being inseparable from you - ever since you were both whiney, snot-faced brats - Choso’s racked up more interruptions than he’s seen on those k-dramas that his grandfather swears he doesn’t watch.

It was like some cosmic joke, really. All he wanted was a moment with just the two of you…and maybe a second or two to confess his undying love. But that didn’t seem too realistic when the Itadori’s were a bit of a packaged deal, unfortunately.  

Alas, Choso’s resigned himself to accept the fact that maybe - just maybe - this was the universe’s way of telling him that his pretty best friend was indeed too good for him. Something he’s suspected ever since the both of you were eight.

The realization had hit him like a semi-truck back then - five of them, in fact. And a whole zoo of animals afterward.

Of course, it’s not like that was any secret. He always thought you were perfect from the second you’d moved in - that new family next door he’d been eagerly waiting ages to arrive. And Choso, being the dutiful oldest son, was the one to deliver welcome cookies to your doorstep. Stumbling, and carefully trying to reach for the doorbell without dropping any. 

“Um, welcome to-”

“Your hair’s funny.”

Now, Choso’s never greeted neighbors before, but it surely wasn’t supposed to go like this. Why was he being insulted by some little girl - you were missing a few teeth, and his had just grown back in so obviously he was much older and wiser. All unapologetic smiles and twinkling eyes as you blink up curiously at his space buns. Pretty, even when you were tearing his heart out because hey, he thought this hairstyle was cool, okay?

Which is what had him huffing and puffing back home, running straight into the arms of his dad while he tried not to cry. That is, until you came knocking at his door with your parents. Very much bawling and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug with wet mumbles of “M’sorry, meant your hair’s very cool. Wanna match-”

And, if his cheeks burned just a bit, well, Choso blamed the tears. 

After a disaster like that, of course you’d grow to be best friends within the day. 

But what that didn’t explain was when - after hours of bickering over whether to play tag or house - you were all tuckered out and sat beside him in a corner of his room, too exhausted to talk his ear off. Head lolling once. Twice. Falling softly onto his shoulder.

Oh. 

Now, Choso might just be having the first epiphany of his entire, grueling eight years in this world - that you were very, very pretty fast asleep with your head on his shoulder. 

Why? Why were you here barging into his life and turning it upside down? Calling him your “new best friend” and dragging him along wherever you went. It made his poor head absolutely spin, not daring to move a muscle so that you didn’t wake up and see this tiny predicament.

He didn’t know why. But what he did know was that he found himself subconsciously reaching for your hand, a strange little part of himself wanting to see how much smaller they were than his. They looked so soft and warm and-

“I WANNA PLAY T- Oh.”

Oh indeed. He hastily lurches away from you like it burned, hands raised like he was caught red-handed. Feeling slightly sorry when he sees you blinking away the sleep to take in your surroundings, eyes bouncing off of a very excited Yuji and resting on the clock.

“Oh no. Mommy’s gonna be mad.” you gasp, hastily getting up. And he feels a weird pang as you quickly dust down your dress, running out the door with a laughed out, “Bye, Yuji! See ya later, Cho~!”

“Bye, crybaby.”

And then it’s quiet. Only Choso still staring after you, and Yuji staring at his older brother, somewhat awestruck and wondering only one thing-

“Big bro, why are you so red?”

Choso doesn’t think he’s gotten a moment alone with you since that first initial meeting. 

Fourteen was definitely the worst, in his opinion.

“Hey, Cho, y’know the girl sitting next to me in math said she had her first kiss today.”

“Oh.” It’s all Choso can manage to get out, paying more attention than he should to the gravel beneath him as he tries not to trip over air beside you. Hot under his uniform collar at the sudden shift in conversation from the usual after-school banter. 

Looping your arm with his, you heave out a playful sigh, “I wonder what that feels like. Have you ever thought about it?” 

No, but Choso has never thought that he’d be here - face burning at your body pressed up against his. Just knowing that his ancestors above are laughing at what a loser he is, barely able to stammer out an answer to your question. 

Okay, maybe he was being dramatic. Because it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about kissing before - it’s just that whenever it popped into his mind, you were usually accompanying him. Along with those strange thoughts of whether your lips are as soft as they looked? Or would your heartbeat be as fast as-

“Man, are you even listening?” 

Shit. 

Your hand waving in front of Choso’s face brings him back to reality. Blinking hastily, he tries to gather his thoughts, mumbling out a quick, “Uh, yeah, sorry. Just lost in thought.” averting his gaze as he feels the heat rise to his cheeks at your intense gaze.

Your smile only widens, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you nudge his side. “Thinking so hard about kissing, huh? Cho, you lecher!” 

“Am not.”

“Am to.”

“Am not.”

“Am to.”

“Who were you imagining it with, huh? Gonna give ‘em a big smooch tomorrow?”

God, you were going to be the death of him. “N-no! I haven’t even- shut up, crybaby, it’s not like-” he sputters out useless protests over your laughter - his favorite song, even when you were teasing the hell out of him. But ah how you relish in his embarrassment, tittering out little giggles all the way until you’re steering him onto your lane. 

Choso, on the other hand, keeps wishing the ground would swallow him up more and more with each step towards his porch. He’d have broken into a sprint right then if he hadn’t known you and the way you’d race him there instead.

“Alright.” you declare once you’re stood at his front door, jolting Choso out of his reverie. And he’s barely opening his mouth to register your words before you plowing on confidently. “We’ll just have to practice our first kisses with each other.”

Perfect. Great. Wonderful. 

The final nail on his coffin. You might as well have planted a bombshell right in the middle of his already-chaotic world with the way he was reeling in- shock? Fear? Anticipation?

“Practice.” Choso whispers, more to himself than you. Yet you nod anyway, eyes locked with his like you were studying his reaction. “For…practice.”

Doubt starts to creep into your pretty features, “Well, we don’t have to if you do-”

“No no no no, I want- ahem.” he cringes at the pathetic desperation in his voice. Desperately trying to scramble back some semblance of sanity as he clears his throat, “I want to. Just-” Choso urgently looks around for- ah, there it is. 

Dragging over the brick from the side of his porch because goddammit he might be 14 but he sure hadn’t hit that growth spurt yet. “Practice, right?”

You nod with a fiery determination that, later on, would make Choso chuckle with fondness. Muttering out a firm, “Practice.” Letting the boy in front of you nervously leans closer, breath fanning your face. And shit if you were nervous then you didn’t show it, but Choso felt like he was about to spontaneously combust. 

Brows furrowing in concentration, eyes only squinting ever-so-slightly as he takes peaks at how pretty you looked. Close enough that he could count every lash as your pretty eyes closed shut, lips glistening with that strawberry chapstick you loved, puckering adorably. Only inching closer and-

Click! 

“You two are so cute! But um- dear, how do you mute this thing?”

You spring apart so fast that Choso wouldn’t be surprised if you’d teleported. He doesn’t even know what’s happening before, from the safety of about three meters away from him, you’re muttering out an embarrassed little, “Hi there, Mr. Itadori. The gardenia are coming along nicely.”

His dad smiles like he hadn’t just starred in what was likely Choso’s villain origin story. Waving happily, “Aww, thank you, sweetheart. Now, why don’t you two go back to doing your lil’ thing and I can ah- practice my photography.”

“Dad, I’m running away.”

That practice kiss never happens. And, well, if there was a proudly framed photo down the hallway of the two of you - with Choso absolutely bright red and standing comically on a brick to meet your height, faces nervously scrunching towards each other - well, neither of you ever mention it. Jin Itadori does, though - every time you come over, in fact. 

It’s only when you’re both eighteen, when Choso’s a lot deeper in his feelings - and only slightly less embarrassed about it - that he thinks that maybe not all family interruptions were that bad. 

Graduation was…something. Not exactly something that he’s sure if he’ll ever want to relive with the sheer amount of awkward photos and tears that his dad lets out. God if he has to shuffle into another-

“You alright, Cho?”

Ah. 

Traitorously, a smile makes its way onto his face, peering down at your beaming face. Both of you having made it way past the awkward early teens. Well, at least you certainly have - Choso still feels like the same awkward little boy with an even more awkward crush. “Hm? Yeah, m’great.” 

“Are ya sure? Because you look like you’re about to have an aneurysm any second now.” you raise a brow teasingly. Ah, how gorgeous you were - even when you’re picking him apart. 

“Yeah. Great. Only had this smile plastered on for the last five hours.”

“Aww, but you look so pretty smiling.” you shrug, with the audacity of someone that didn’t just have Choso’s knees dangerously weak. “Anyway- A bunch of us are gonna try to convince ol’ Yaga to let us take photos with his shades, you wanna come?”

“You think m’pretty?” he muses, embarrassingly late.

“Cho.”

“Yaga. Shades. Got it.” Choso mock salutes, drinking in the little laugh it startles out of you, eyes sparkling with mischief and looking right into his soul. Beautiful. You were always beautiful. 

And Choso can’t just stand around and do nothing about it.

“Crybaby, look, I-” Fists clenching, he takes a steadying breath. The heat only rising to his cheeks at your awaiting gaze, “I…”

“HEY, GRANDPA HELPED STEAL YAGA’S SHADES LET’S TAKE A PIC-”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP ITADORI. YOU’RE RUINING A MOMENT, LET THEM HAVE THEIR MOMENT.”

“I don’t know either of you two.”

It would be a miracle for a moment not to be ruined with two overly-energetic first-years (and a very reluctant Fushiguro) pushing their way into your little bubble. Choso bites back a groan as you’re immediately swarmed by a bickering Kugisaki and Yuji, one apologizing for “ruining your k-drama moment” and the other trying to get you to put on some sunglasses. Well, at least he could empathize with the black-haired boy, who gave him an apologetic nod. 

He’s only halfway through waving off the interruption before a voice speaks up from his side. “Why didn’t you say it?”

Whirling around, Choso comes face-to-face with the disappointed look on his grandfather’s face. Already having some idea of what you mean, “Wha-”

“I may be old but m’not deaf, yet, boy. Why didn’t ya tell her?” he sighs, tilting his head to where you were wearing those shades and taking ridiculous pictures with two animated first-years. 

“I don’t know what you-”

“M’not blind, either. Quite frankly I’m insulted.”

And, well, if there’s anyone that he can’t hide from - it would be his grandfather. So he heaves out a defeated sigh, touselling his hair while muttering out a pathetic little, “M’not- Ugh, she’s too fuckin’ perfect and I…I chickened out.”

Choso doesn’t know what he expected in response but it definitely wasn’t for his grandfather to laugh. Full, and raspy - loud enough that even you stop to stare. “Thought so, idiot boy.” he chuckles, drawing indignant protests. “Did she tell you?”

Raising a brow, “What?”

“Did she tell you that you weren’t good ‘nough for her?”

“No, but-” Whatever protest on the tip of Choso’s tongue is cut off by a rough hand smacking his back in what he thinks is reassurance, but felt more like a punishment for being such a pussy around you all these years. 

“Then go. Ya might just be surprised. After all, you’re my grandson, and all the ladies at bingo love me.”

Shaking with both adrenaline and the effort to keep that image out of his mind, he makes his way towards you. Purposeful. Pointedly ignoring the matching smirks flashed his way. 

“You really think they’ll finally get together today?” Fushiguro deadpans from where he’d snuck up beside the old man, in an attempt to escape the public nuisances he calls ‘friends’. 

Choso’s grandfather hums thoughtfully, watching the scene play out before him - Choso flushed such a delicate shade of pink as you playfully put Yaga’s sunglasses on him. Settling on a gruff, “I’ll give it a few months more. He’s my grandson, after all.”

“That’s generous. I’d give it a couple years more.”

“Wanna bet, brat?”

“...”

Safe to say, his second button ended up safely in your hands that day. But Fushiguro would be the one to really win the bet. 

Because it was only 2 years, 4 months and 3 weeks after this little incident that Choso finally had you exactly where he wanted - with no interruptions. All for him. 

Freshly twenty one, splayed out on your apartment bedroom and having a conversation that he never in a million years would’ve even dared to imagine he’d have - with you of all people. All because of that stupid R-rated film you’d put on for movie night. 

“You’ve never what?” you gape, turning down the volume to those painfully fake moans coming from the tv.

Oh, how gorgeous you looked - all shocked and batting your lashes up at him in surprise. Choso almost swoons inwardly (and outwardly) before he realizes that shit you were probably waiting for an answer.

“I mean, yeah?” he sputters out, cheeks heating up as you lean in closer to hear him. Close. “So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”

Goddammit, some strange, carnal part of himself twinges dangerously at the little smirk that curls your lips. One that he quickly - and embarrassingly - realizes has the blood rushing straight to his cock. Humming a low, “Maybe. Maybe not.” The mattress dips slightly as you shift closer, lips ghosting his ear. “Want me to help you find out?”

Which is, well, how Choso found himself shoved against the armrest. Blanket thrown on the floor now, swollen cock leaking furiously through his pants as your pretty lil’ cunt hovers above his mouth. So wet that if he stuck his tongue out he could have you dripping all onto him. 

“Y-you sure about this, sweetheart?” he hisses despite his hands looping around your thighs, bringing you closer to him.

You raise a brow, “Are you sure, Cho?”

He should say no. He should laugh this all off as a bad joke. He shouldn’t ruin this friendship - but oh how badly he wants just a taste of your dripping pussy - see if she’s as sweet as the rest of you is. So, throwing caution to the wind, Choso nods slowly. “Yes. Want it s’bad.”

Grinning wickedly, you whisper, “Thought so.” And then he’s pulling you onto his mouth, hot and urgent.

“Oh fuck-” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the first taste of your sweet sweet juices. “Shit shit shit.” So sloppily licking up your swollen folds - barely moving with any method or patience, just that he’s drunk on your pussy and wants more more more-

“Hngh- f-fuck. You sure this is your hah- first time, Cho?” you gasp breathlessly. And oh your best friend was so fucking beautiful. Dark hair untied and tousled, eyes half-hooded, your slick already smearing across the bottom half of his face and trickling down his jaw because shit he was so messy. So addicted to that desperate expression on your face that he just can’t help but tease you a little bit. 

“Mhm?” he smirks, tongue swirling around your pulsing clit. Purposefully missing right where you wanted him the most because shit he loved those cute lil’ whines spilling out of you. 

You let out a huff, hips trying pathetically to inch him closer - but Choso wasn’t budging. Holding you so firmly by the hips that you’re sure he leaves bruises, licking all over your cunt except for your clit. “Cho.” you warn. Brows furrowing in frustration at the way he bats his long lashes up at you so deceivingly innocently, “What?”

“You know…”

“I don’t.” he titters teasingly into your pussy. 

“Choso.”

Now, Choso’s known and seen everything there is to do with you - but never like this. Spread open shamefully and pouting so adorably on top of him, so needy for him. It made his head spin to think of just how much the dynamics had shifted. 

Shit, he really should’ve watched that godforsaken movie with you sooner. “Tell me what you want, crybaby.”

And oh how his cock twitches at the way you manage to get out an embarrassed little, “Wan’ you to ngh- tonguefuck me properly. Wanna cum on your pretty face, Cho.”

And that’s all that’s said before he’s surging forward, glossy lips wrapping around your pulsing clit to suck harshly. Rolling his soft tongue over and over-

“Wanted this for so long.” Choso mutters, muffled as he buries himself deeper into your pretty pussy. The vibrations sending white-hot pleasure running down your spine. “You have absolutely no idea, pretty.”

And you barely even have the time to register his little confession before Choso’s moving down to bully his tongue past your folds. Nose pressing against your throbbing clit as he dips into your sloppy hole. 

“Oh shit. Jus’ like that.” For a beginner, your best friend really knew what he was doing. Eating you out like his favorite meal, tongue squeezing into your snug pussy to thrust in and out, swipe against your walls, stretching you out right to his will. Over and over-

“Use me.”

Your eyes snap down to meet the pure adoration in his eyes as he makes out filthily with your cunt. Choking out a little, “What?”

“Use me.”

There it was again - that strained little mantra. And as if to prove his point, Choso reaches out to deftly place your hands on his head, bucking into you touch. 

And, well, how could you say no to that?

Because before you know it, you’re bunching Choso’s soft strands in your fists. Angling him just right to ride his pretty face. “C’mon, Cho. Ngh- H-harder, jus’ a bit- Oh!” he just devours the way your mouth drops into an adorable little oh! as his tongue curls deftly against that one spot. Again and again. Letting himself be so used, dragging your dripping cunt harder on his mouth. 

And he likes it. Hell, he loves it even - because you’re so sweet n’ pretty on his mouth. Better than everything he’s ever been dreaming of for the past few years. And always in his dreams, you’d be clenching so deliciously around his tongue when you were close - just like right now. 

So he speeds up his movements, breathing you in maddeningly. A hand snaking down from it’s favorite place on your hips to draw quick, frenzied little circles on your poor, ravaged clit. Jaw almost aching with how filthily he was dripping in and out of your entrance - be he did give a shit. Only wanting to have you breathless and creaming all over his face.

You jerk violently on top of him, “Hah! S’too much, Cho. M’so close- gonna cum- gonna-”

And then you’re cumming. Fast, and hard. 

Plushy walls clamping down on Choso’s tongue, hips stuttering on his face as he laps up all your juices, an arm around your waist helping you ride his face through your high. 

“S’sweet. Could get used to that.” he slurs into your cunt. Tipping his head back as far as it’d go to let the last of your juices slide down his throat. “Better than I imagined.”

The words ring in your ears as you blink back your vision. Deliriously whirling down to look down at Choso - still beneath you and looking more smug and content than you’d ever seen him. “Imagination? S’that why you’re so good.”

“No.”

You’re being flipped before you know it. Manhandled so easily by your best friend as he lays you on your back, sinking into the cushion while he looms above you. “S’jus’ that…” grunting as he flings his shirt off, “Been dreaming of your pretty cunt on m’tongue for years.”

Okay, now his confession hits - more than it did when he was tonguefucking you into insanity, anyway. 

“Years, huh?” you breathe out, eyes roaming all over his sculpted torso. Taking in every dip and curve of Choso’s toned abs - all the way from his broad shoulders to the rock-hard cock straining against his pants. As if in a trance, your hand reaches out to cup his leaking erection, “S’that all you’ve been dreaming of?”

“You little minx.” he lets out a low hiss. 

Before you can even react, Choso’s fumbling with that belt - cursing because shit, he’d have worn sweatpants instead if he knew they’d end up on your floor. 

And you’re not any better, fingers popping open his buttons and tugging impatiently and oh- You always thought that your best friend would have a big dick - but this?  He was so intimidatingly long - and thick enough that you wondered whether you’d hurt yourself. Fat tip flushed such a pretty shade of pink to match his cheeks, leaking down down down, all the way to his heavy balls. 

You’re only jolted out of your little reverie by Choso spitting a steady stream of spit onto your quivering cunt, spreading it lazily across your pussy with his thumb. A ringed fist pumping his cock slowly, as he drags his tip across your folds, pooling your sweet juices. Muttering out a raspy, “I’ll be gentle.”

“You better not be, now jus’ fuck me-”

Well, you didn’t have to ask Choso twice. Because you’ve barely gotten the words out before he’s bullying massive cock into your tight cunt. Pressing in inch by fucking inch as you gasp and buck underneath him. 

“Shhh, s’okay, crybaby. This is what you wanted, right?” he mumbles, with all the audacity of someone that wasn’t fucking into you in rapid, mindless little jabs to fit inside your snug lil’ pussy. Struggling to hold back at this point. “Wanted to be split apart on m’cock?”

You were so full of him. Even more so when he throws your legs over his shoulders, bending all the way down and folding you in half so easily beneath him. 

He drinks in the barely-lucid squeal that leaves your swollen lips. Kissing your forehead gently, whispering against the skin, “Because I’ve wanted this for so fucking long.”

And then it was like something snapped - maybe his sanity, maybe the restraint that Choso’s been holding back for too long. Because immediately he’s plunging his throbbing cock into you - all the way till his balls, all angry and squeezing so painfully, smacks against your ass. 

“Wanted this.” he rasps into your open mouth. His hips were out of control now, thrusting you in shallow, desperate rams. Pounding into you like a man possessed, and running his mouth just as much. He laces his fingers on top of your head, pushing you down even deeper into his relentless cock - as if the bastard wasn’t fucking you dumb already. “Fuckin’ needed this needed this. Shit- so bad.”

“Ch-Choso- fuck hah-” you plead as his mouth clashes with yours. All sloppy with teeth and spit and his profanities - and it felt so damn good. 

“Yeah? Who’s fucking you silly, now?” he’s going harder now, tip hitting your poor cervix over and over. And you’d be sobbing at the burn and the stretch but all you can think of is shit this is Choso - the kid you used to play hide and seek with. And now he seems fully intent on breaking you. “Say m’name.”

A rough thumb starts toying with your clit, in time with the cute lil’ whines of his name that escape your mouth like a prayer. “Shit. Y’look so pretty like this.” he babbles. “Gonna cry, pretty girl?” smirking down at the way you were too cockdrunk to even snap back, only looking up at him with delirious, teary eyes. “Be a crybaby for my cock?”

You’re tugging on his hair, thighs shaky and bucking upwards. “Cho-”

“Mhm?”

“W-wanna cum. Need you to fill m’up till I can’t take it anymore.”

Oh if Choso was any lesser man he’d have cum right then and there. Instead settling for a guttural groan, drunk off the way you were milking his cock so hard as if to prove your point. It almost made him want to stay like this forever. But no - not right now. 

“Oh yeah?” Hips becoming sloppy now, “Need it? Shit- m’so close.” Each word slurred, punctuated by a harsh thrust, strokes long and frenzied. Using your heavenly pussy like his personal fucktoy. So hard that he’s sure you’d have embarrassing matching bruises tomorrow - his balls on your ass, your nails raking down his shoulders.

“Me too- fuck fuck fuck-” you mewl into his neck, as Choso buried his face into yours. 

“Cum f’me, my girl.”

My girl. 

And then you are - and he is. And you don’t know who cums first, just that you’re seeing stars behind your eyes and Choso’s teeth digging into your neck as he thrusts once. Twice. Before cumming and cumming so hard he might as well have seen the pearly gates of heaven. And you were an angel.

Thick, hot ropes of cum that paint your walls white, so much that it gushes out of your poor overfilled pussy. Dripping down your legs and pooling into a sinful, creamy ring at his base. 

“Mm- shit. Choso.” you moan, barely audible over the lewd squelches from below. 

“M’here, my girl.” he grits out, voice shot. And it seems that that was his new favorite nickname, because Choso keeps murmuring it over and over as he keeps fucking his seed into you. Not even thinking about it at this point - just mindless, shallow grinds of his hips. 

In the haze of your orgasm, you think you hear his quiet voice, strained with exhaustion and something that you weren’t in the right state of mind to decipher right now. 

“Shhh, m’here. “Can’t believe I waited so fuckin’ long.” Whispering against your lips, “Love this. Love this pretty cunt.” Kissing softly, “Love the way y’take me. Fuckin’ made f’me.” And maybe even a soft little, “Love you.”

And maybe - just maybe, you whisper the same into his. Kissing him softly, exactly the way you’d wanted to all these years. 

Neither of you speak after that. Not when Choso’s hips stall, body sticky and collapsing onto yours. Nor do you speak when he pulls away with a playful nip to your lower lip - a promise. Searching through your clothes for a washcloth he can wipe yourselves clean with. 

It’s only when he settles back under the covers beside you, looking at you with such dark, hazy eyes - whirling with too many emotions to name - that the silence is broken. 

“Crybaby.”

“Cho.”

“Corny.”

“You started it.”

Chuckling, Choso pulls your body close to his. Not even a hair’s breadth between you two because shit now that he’s got you, he doesn’t think he ever wants to let you go. 

“Y’know…” he starts, “I think we should- I mean- if you want…” nervous now more than he was even after all that just transpired. Cheeks flaring as he meets your amused gaze, just daring him to go on - because you saw through him. You always did. “I lov-”

“Am I late for the mov- WHAT THE FUCK I ALWAYS KNEW BRATS WEREN’T JUST FRIENDS-”

---

Itadori Family Groupchat + Two More

Dad: Hey, all. I can’t seem to get a hold of Choso to confirm tomorrow’s dinner plans. Can anyone else let me know if he’s ok? XX

-Jin.

Yuji <3: He’s probs at rhat “best friend movie night” still 

Dad: Hello, Yuji. What is a “probs”? XX

-Jin.

Kugisaki: He’s suspiciously quiet, though… Y’all think that “best friend movie night” is codeword for something else? 

Yuji <3: Better not be cuz Sukuna stole my sparw key sayin something ab crashing it idk

Kugisaki: *spare

And you just LET him?

Yuji <3: HE THREATENED TO BURN MY MEGAN THEE STALLION POSTER 

…

AND DID IT ANYWAY

Kugisaki: L

Fushiguro: L

Gramps: L

Sukuna (do not answer): DID Y’ALL KNOW THOSE TWO WERE FUCKIN????

*Fushiguro has left the chat*

Dad: :0

-Jin.

A/N. Spiritually, this is a crackfic idk.

#choso x reader #choso smut #choso x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #choso #tonywrites #choso kamo

[comfortless]

dog hybrid recruit König thots??

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. more loner x loner because it is a treat for me. fem (afab) reader. König is a man just with ears and a tail. vague smut.

He’s the one that was never picked.

So maybe you’re too busy for a puppy hybrid, but maybe you’re a bit too lonely for an empty apartment. You don’t have the space for a big, excitable dog. The cats and bunnies are in high demand, too, there’s no shot of you adopting one of the cute, softer things within your budget. So you settle for a dog. The only dog left at the shelter.

His papers state that he comes from Austria, aged twenty-five and never been put into an actual home before. He’s endured some rigorous military training: scenting, tracking, breaking down thick doors with only a shoulder and an efficient push. A hunter through and through. Then, following his merits: erratic, jumpy, impulsive, and more than a little aggressive.

This dog doesn’t growl, only bites.

The paper sits crumpled in your hands as you eye the dimly lit hallway to your left. Posters of information line the beige walls to either side, some with photos of proud kitties and dogs, hand-in-hand with their companions and cheery phrases printed above in a bright, yellow cursive.

If anything, those are the ones that give you the final push to adopt this unloved, discarded experimental soldier. He’s only been given this one very last chance before… You would rather not think of what comes if you’re to turn away and leave him to rot and wither here. It must have happened a dozen times already: ambitious families looking for a more intriguing addition only to lock eyes with this pitiful thing and shake their heads ‘no’ for him to be put on death row like this.

“He’s scary,” the clerk reminds you once you’re finally led down the hall to the tiny room your new pet— no, friend, must be kept in. It was easy to think of them as something else sometimes. Animal instincts as prevalent as their claws, teeth, and fuzzy little ears. But you didn’t need a pet, there were an abundance of shops for those. You needed a good soul to spill your guts to and maybe pet from time to time.

“I’m sure he’s fine.”

The poor thing is locked away to fester in what more closely resembles a cell than anything resembling a home. A steel door with a thin, narrow gap in the middle like a peephole keeps him locked in tight. Peering through that narrow gap, you only then seem to realize just what an impulsive decision you’re making.

König is exactly what the clerk said, continues to say next to you as she searches for the correct key on the ring. He’s bigger than any other hybrid you’ve seen before, built narrow at the waist but broad and deadly where it matters most; arms like narrow trees and thighs larger than your head, all muscle and intimidation, even with the cute, perky ears peeking out of the top of his helmet. He was definitely used for guarding and killing, and how a man his stature could even begin to fail that was unknown to you. Not that it was necessary. At most, he may need to shoo a scuttling pest out of the front door and put away a dish or two.

When the door swings open, the clerk offers a hesitant nod before dismissing herself back down the hall, and you’re left stood with a pair of blue eyes locked directly onto you.

König assesses with a tilt of his head and a slow ascent to his feet. He’s clad in layers of black, an empty vest where magazines or grenades must have been in place prior. Hell if you knew. He should have been given a fresh change of clothes after being discharged and sent to this place. A proper bed, too, considering the only furniture in this barren place seemed to be a cot that could never hope to hold him.

If not for the swaying of his tail, you might even find yourself nervous, but he does well to try and look approachable, even greets you with a thickly accented tongue beneath that hood. A simple, “Hallo.”

“I’ve adopted you,” you explain, and it sounds ridiculous. You can’t just adopt a full-grown man. Maybe a puppy or some hybrid child, never a man better suited for a gladiator pit than a home. “I mean that… if you want to come home with me, you can.”

He gives you a huff, a burst of breath that pushes the hood out from his face and a near imperceptible roll of his eyes as a step is taken toward you. It must sound stupid, even to him, but the wiry tail at his back does not cease its wagging. No matter how stern the glimpses of his face seem to look and how alarming his size may be, he’s nothing but an eager pup it seemed.

“Richtig… Then let’s go.”

Life with your big soldier turns out to be remarkably easy.

The first few weeks are dedicated to stoking up some sort of bond and rationing out chores. Simple tasks to see how he adapts, and small rewards in the form of pets along the velvety fur of his ears and scratches beneath his chin. The walks with you seem to be his favorite and tend to be long, but he remains right at your side the entire way. The only barking to be heard comes from nosy passersby that warn you to keep your beast on a leash, but you let him be reasoning that it wouldn’t do you any good at all. Your strength was that of a tiny rabbit’s by comparison.

König is clean enough from his prior military training and does as you ask without complaint. Even things you don’t request, such as your laundry are taken care of before you ever even return from work. He’s overbearing on those evenings, when you’ve been apart and he sates himself drunk on the scent of your perfume still clinging to the collar of an old sweater. Excitable and sweet, though, when he curls at your side while some movie plays on the television screen.

It amazes you how easily he’s shifted from stiff to adoring in a matter of days, but it’s rare to have a moment to yourself now. The hybrid is insistent on pulling you up into his lap when you’re curled on the couch, or rushing behind to hoist you up and pin you between an expanse of chest and the kitchen counter with drooly licks against the side of your neck and cheek. Biting, too. You try your best to bully that out of him, flicking at his ears or shoving against his face, but there’s always a mark left behind.

When a coworker gives you a mischievous grin and asks if there’s a new man in your life at the sight of a purplish bruise against your throat, that is when you decide that a collar may actually be nice. Weave your fingers between leather and skin and give König a sharp tug when he gets too rowdy, maybe that would teach him. Spray bottles and warnings spoken through giggles just aren’t enough.

You find one that you think might fit at a shop specializing in hybrid needs. It’s thick and well-made, a black leather hold to match that big scary demeanor that he tries his best to uphold. The cutesy silver bell attached to it is just a bonus. At least you would hear him coming the next time he insisted on peppering you in kisses with his tail a blur behind him.

He greets you at the door as always, unlocks it for you and pulls it open before you ever even make it to the top of the landing. It’s cute how giddy he seems each day when you return, how he doesn’t hesitate to walk right up to you with his hands at his sides, his own silent request for a hug or some form of affection whilst staring down at you and mumbling a “hallo” like the most awkward gentleman in the entire world.

“I got you a present,” you excitedly tell him instead of blessing him with your usual embrace, lifting up the little gift bag with a smile.

When the collar is retrieved from the bag by a massive hand, König does not mirror your enthusiasm. Any light in the placid blue of his eyes seems to extinguish, smothered and fizzled out to pave way for a look of the purest disdain. He rolls the leather between both palms, only then regarding you with as a heavy sigh stirs up from his chest to whistle past the open mouth beneath the hood.

Maybe he would have preferred something with spikes. Something heavy and intimidating with a tag that read “FUCK YOU” in red, painted letters.

“I don’t wear collars,” he finally says, flatly.

Or maybe a muzzle would have been best…

“You do now, big guy,” you challenge with an airy laugh, slipping past him to cross into your home. Tidy as ever, he’s been working today it seemed. The bulb in the living room has been replaced, a few pieces of furniture rearranged. It all just looks… cozy. More habitable now that someone else lives here too.

König follows you inside with his head lowered and tail pushed between his thighs. The collar rests in one hand, fingers curled over it so tightly it almost seemed he wished the damned thing to dissipate into dust.

“Nein. I won’t wear it.” The door is locked behind him. It’s the first time he’s refused you anything. Even cleaning up around the kitchen wasn’t met with a rejection. It’s odd, almost uncharacteristic for him.

“I just thought…” You would want to be mine. Properly. With a nice symbol of it right around his neck, with a sturdy leash to lead him by, with…

Any thought in your head puffs into a plume of smoke back there behind your eyes when you feel two hands grasp at your shoulders, push you back towards the wall to hold you there. Hugging, lifting, cuddling up against, even licking… those things were commonplace. This was foreign and surprisingly rough; there’s no give to his hold, no room to even try to move away as his head lowers to stare you straight in the eyes.

“I killed my last handler.”

“Did you…?”

“Ja.”

That confession should have sent icy dread to the pit of your stomach, should have spurred you to claw and kick and bite. Surely the shelter would have known, could have warned you too. That would have spared you from looking like a terrified little rabbit now, yet a part of you knew it wouldn’t have changed a thing. König sort of… belonged here, as if written in some silly reading of the stars.

His ears flatten against his skull, large hands trembling where they hold you in place. The dam begins to crack as his eyes grow glassy, gaze far away in a concoction of pain and contemplation. He stares through you, not at, reliving something you dared not ask for an explanation for. The whys and hows die on your tongue.

And there’s nothing scary about him anymore.

There’s only a wounded soldier here.

A good boy.

Your hands rise to flip up the hood, rest it over the top of his head to cup his jaw in your palms, stroking over his cheeks with both thumbs to soothe and comfort. His unwinding comes immediate, hands slipping down to your lower back to pull you in closer.

You don’t apologize and neither does he. Everything just falls back into a comfortable lull, some fuzzy droning from both sides as you wish one another good night. He walks you to your bedroom door, the very best he can do to prove that he’s not some mutt with froth coming from his jaw. You bite your tongue to prevent yourself from encouraging that he sleep next to you.

“You’re a good boy, you know that?,” you tell him as you lean against the door in preparation to push it closed. “The very best there is.”

He doesn’t respond, but the tail behind him wags at a frantic pace from those words alone.

The following morning is different.

There’s food on the table and coffee already brewing by the time you cross from your room into the kitchen. The air bears the scent of sandalwood and geranium, a forgotten candle sat burning on the countertop. You eat your breakfast of too-sweet pancakes and prep your coffee to go all while the shower runs from somewhere down the hallway.

He usually waits, tells you goodbye before you’re off to work, bites at your neck and asks which will be better: a movie after dinner or some fresh air. Instead, there’s a note attached to the door. Something simple and mischievous, a scribbled, lopsided heart and some phrase in German written with handwriting so sloppy that there was no hope of your still sleep-addled mind translating it.

You chalk it up to him being fully adjusted in this new space, let him go about his business while you go about yours.

It would be a walk tonight.

Arriving home twists what is simply different into the realm of bizarre. No hugging by the door, it sits closed and untouched since you left this morning. You inhale something heavy, trepidation or maybe a bit of yearning there, while you fumble with your key in the lock. A click, a push, and then everything just changes. There’s no crashing and burning, only a very firm and insistent buzzing that rises to your chest, because the sight inside is just…

König.

Your König.

The hood has been discarded and set aside on the polished wood of a nearby table, the little bell collar sits right along his throat. It jingles when his ears perk and his tail begins that gentle sway, swishing with every step that you take into the apartment, rampant and unyielding when the sparkles in your eyes cluster like the tiniest, most insignificant stars.

No apologies, but this was something better.

“Gut?,” he asks you, kneels before you with the cutest stare that you’ve ever seen on a man. Constellations sit there waiting to be mapped, and your giant puppy waits for just a little praise.

You stroke his ears first, then dip your head to press a kiss to his cheek.

“The best boy,” you tell him.

“I have a present for you too.”

No protest comes when he herds you out of the door, still in your stiff uniform with your hair a mess. The sun begins its setting out on the horizon, bathing the world in purple and gold. Trees with spring blossoms and wildflowers all abloom tinge the air in something sweet. It’s not your usual trail, and König doesn’t walk at your side this time, only ahead. You watch him fondly as he grazes his fingertips against the blooms hanging from branches just overhead, how he shies away from the curious nesting birds in bushes as to not startle them.

It isn’t the usual trail, but he walks it with confidence. There are no people out so late in the day, and apart from the occasional quip between the both of you, the setting only bears the sound of the chiming of his bell and a few night birds beginning to call. Peace morphs to something greater when the sun tucks itself away and sets the stage for a bright, waning moon. There’s a small clearing, a meadow cut straight through by the dirt path you walk, and only then are you pulled aside.

“Here,” he huffs against your chest when your back meets soft grass and a hazy, spring sky is painted out above you.

Maybe you’re not the best with men, but there have been signs.

So many in abundance that the pitiful squeak that leaves you when his nose finds its way up your skirt is only an embarrassment. König must have found it charming, reaches for both of your hands as he laps at your sex through the thin lace of your panties until your body grows tense and your nails leave little crescents on the backs of his hands.

The words don’t come, they don’t have to when he speaks them for you, little whispers and coos into your hair when any barrier between you is discarded with the descent of a zipper and the sound of tearing lace. There’s an outpouring of thanks in the form of a tiny, fragile, “I missed you.”

The night birds calling washes out each sound that escapes from either of you then, only outdone by the symphony of impact when König loses himself entirely to you. Limbs curling around narrow hips and a broad back, pools of blue so shimmery and pretty they outdo even the moon hanging above locked onto you. He doesn’t look away even as you try to bury your face into the width of his shoulder, only then guides you back down with a gentle hand and a muffled, needywhine.

“Good boy,” comes as a mere peep when he fully sheaths himself and laps at the corner of your mouth as you speak. The praise only causes him to still, pries the words from his panting mouth and reduces them to a series of pleasured, stuttering groans.

“What did the note say?,” you ask him in the silence that comes comfortable once the act is done, nestled into a pair of strong arms with a cheek pressed against an expanse of chest.

“Oh.” König laughs breathily, coming down from the height of both love and need.

“That you found home?,” you ask when he pets at your hair, twirls strands between his fingertips. “Because I think that I may have, too…”

“Something like that.” He shrugs, loosens his grip around your body for a mere second before pulling you in closer, tighter to him, as if letting go would end the world entirely. “Heaven.”

#könig x reader #konig x reader

[ffsg0jo]

boynextdoor! choso who you've had a mini crush on ever since you saw him move in with his two brothers yuuji and sukuna. yuuji is the 5-year-old who is just the sweetest ray of sunshine, and sukuna (kuna) is the grumpy undergrad whose name you only know because of yuuji's incessant need for 'uppies'. you don't know much about choso, though, except that he's the eldest, is always working to pay for the bills/rent, and is scarcely home.

boynextdoor! choso, who invites you over for dinner a couple of days after moving in to get to know you a little better and introduce him and his family. you notice the lack of parents, but you don’t say anything or bring it to attention, seeing first-hand how hard choso works as you help him with all the dishes he cooked, and as sukuna sets the table. immediately, yuuji is smitten by you (and you, him) constantly trying to get your attention and talking to you about his new friend called gumi, your shared neighbour's son. choso watches you with yuuji in your arms while you're animatedly talking to his baby brother. the genuine interest you show in what yuuji says makes his heart pitter patter.

(sukuna is quiet throughout the whole affair, only speaking when spoken to and even then keeping it prompt, but he notices the way choso looks at you when you're not watching and vice versa. you’re kind, polite, and seemingly loving. you could be good for his older brother; he thinks to himself.)

boynextdoor! choso, who knocked on your door and asked if you wanted him to take the trash outside your door to the big bins since he's throwing out his own as well on the second week they moved in. your face heated up, and you swooned at his thoughtfulness as you shyly nodded, adding if it's not too much trouble for him. ever since then, he's assumed the role of taking out your trash, making sure to dispose of all the rubbish in the appropriate bins. does it make him a little late to work? yes. but the look on your face when he first asked was worth it.

boynextdoor! choso, who secretly tries to find excuses to see you more and more often in his busy schedule. he caught a glimpse of you through your window when first moving in, and he can't get enough of you ever since. whether it's bringing round some 'extra' cookies, he's baked for sukuna and yuuji or asking if you'd like to join them for dinner again. you've never really taken him up on that offer, though, worried about intruding, and he's almost on the verge of begging you, insisting you could never.

boynextdoor! choso who bakes the best cookies and muffins. you're half convinced he's lying to you, and he's just bought them from the local bakery. but you've seen the evidence through the window directly opposite yours, with little yuuji chasing both of his brothers round the kitchen with tiny fistfuls of flour. it's the first time you've seen choso smile so brightly, and something in your heart melts. even sukuna is tame and soft in the presence of his older brother, you've noted.

boynextdoor! choso whose brothers notice the badly hidden crush he has on the cutie next door. (yes, it's gotten so obvious that even little yuuji recognises the fact that big bro really wants to be your friend). he works so hard for them, and he deserves happiness, so it's in his best interest when both knuckleheads (mainly sukuna) put their heads together and start plotting and devising a plan to try and get you both together. they've seen the longing in both of your eyes and are sure it'll work.

boynextdoor! choso who knocks on your door at 4 something am in the morning whilst you're half asleep asking if you could babysit yuuji. his shift starts two hours, and he needs to leave in one, and sukuna is nowhere to be seen. he's so apologetic, and he promises to make it up to you however you want. you see the bags under his eyes and the heart-breaking frown on his face, and you immediately agree. yuuji's a delight anyway, and you'd be more than happy to.

(yuuji is gently woken up by his big bro before he leaves, who explains what's happened. he smiles a wide, sleepy smile and is excited to spend time with you, ready to set his and sukubros plan into motion. but first, he needs another nap and some cuddles.)

(choso is forever grateful for the angel of a brother yuuji is. it balances out sukuna for sure.)

boynextdoor! choso, who seems to talk about you a lot, and how beautiful you are. at least according to yuuji. yuuji says sometimes big bro sees you outside from the kitchen window whilst he's cooking and looks at you with a smile. a smile yuuji's only seen him give to two other people, but other big bro said that choso wants to crush you? he doesn't understand why because you're really lovely to yuuji and to everyone in general and you play with him and let him take pictures on your phone and secretly let him have his dessert with his meal. anyways if big bro tries to crush you, don't worry, you've got yuuji to protect you!

(his words make you blush at the implication as you realise what yuuji means.)

boynextdoor! choso who comes back from his long shift to you and yuuji napping on his couch. he’s exhausted, but the sight of you two together warms his heart, and he suddenly finds himself with bucketloads of energy. he gets started on making dinner for you all whilst you’re napping, and he hopes that you’ll stay this time. halfway through prepping, he hears a door open and a worse for wear sukuna stumbles in with a hard look on his face. quietly, sukuna joins his brother, muttering a small apology and washing his hands before taking over on chopping the onions. the two cook in silence, knowing that sukuna would open up when he’s ready.

boynextdoor! choso who gently nudges you awake when they’re finished cooking. at first, you think you’re dreaming with an angelic looking choso hovering above you. but then you cringe, feeling the drool on your cheek, wiping it away quickly, praying choso never noticed. (he most definitely did, but he found it incredibly endearing). he thanks you profusely and insists on you joining them for dinner. you’re glad you did because there’s just something so sweet about the three brothers interacting with each other. even sukuna lightly jokes around and teases little yuuji at the dinner table, trying to get him to eat all his veggies.

boynextdoor! choso, who keeps trying to pay you for looking after yuuji when you’re about to leave. you refuse knowing that his family needs it more, plus you’re more than happy to look after yuuji, he’s an angel. choso still insists, adamant on paying you and only shuts up when you tell choso to take you out on date instead, emboldened by everything yuuji’s told you. choso short circuits, blushing furiously. he nods, unable to form words, and stutters out an ‘i’ll text you’. you turn around and leave, and choso is still rooted to the spot, replaying your words in his head. it’s only when he’s giggling and kicking his legs in bed that he suddenly realises he doesn’t have your number. oh well, it’s just another excuse to see you then.

(sukuna witnesses the whole thing and is lowkey mad because he spent all that time planning and plotting for no reason. he hears choso’s giggles through the thin walls, though, and fights back a smile. to hell with his plans.)

© ffsg0jo 2024 — do not plagiarise, repost, modify, or translate any of my work, in any way shape or form; i will piss in your cereal if you do. all work belongs to me and me only.

#🌻.sunspell #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk choso #choso kamo #kamo choso #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #choso x reader #kamo choso x reader #choso kamo x reader #jjk writing #sukuna ryomen #yuuji itadori #jujutsu kaisen choso #jujutsu choso #🌻.fluff #🌻.jjk

[i2sunric]

𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄 (l.hs)

pairing: gamer!heeseung x reader (f)

summary: heeseung neglects you just to play his stupid game, so you try to relieve your frustration by humping his pillow— how you ended up riding his dick, you’re not sure.

warnings: smut. masturbating, pillow humping, riding, dirty talking, pet names (baby, slut, whore), unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap up your willy!), creampie, breeding kink, kinda cnc at the ending, if more Imk. NOT PROOFREAD

published: 25th April 2024

wc: 1.9k

tag list: @jaeyunsbimbo @yorukoshii @omgbrohellnahmanwtf

a/n: guess who should be writing for the project but hasn’t even finished writing one scene? me! anyways, hope you’ll enjoy this gamer heeseung drabble and let me know your thoughts! REBLOG & LIKE PLS! maybe part 2?

When Heeseung and you first started hanging out, everyone started mistaking your friendship for dating. Or maybe, that was exactly what Heeseung wanted.

He was so possessive of you, always giving death stares to anyone who dared to land their eyes on your bare legs or exposed chest from your skirts and tops; spoiling you rotten, literally buying you anything you wanted without even having to ask.

But you were not less, getting jealous of anyone who approached him, even scaring girls away. You were as crazy as him.

It wasn’t something you two addressed verbally, just a mutual feeling. Perhaps it was attraction or something more, neither of you wanted to label it.

Something you would really love to verbalise, though, was the way Heeseung had been playing his stupid game for two straight hours without even glancing back at you from his chair.

You were sitting on his bed, legs crossed together as you absentmindedly scrolled through your socials— but even that had become boring. You sighed heavily and dropped your phone on the mattress, stretching your sore limbs.

“Hee?” You asked but was only met back with the sound of keyboard taps and a few shouts so loud you could hear them from the earphones your best friend was wearing.

“Heeseung.” You said again, this time a little louder, “Mh?” He asked, still not turning around to even glance at your face.

“Stop playing and spend some time with me.” You nagged, brows knitting in an annoyed frown “Just ten more minutes.” He murmured back.

“Now.” You crossed your arms at your chest “Come on Y/N, I’m almost done, damn.”

You waited for him to say something more, however he just resumed the battle, occasionally hissing but never shouting at the screen, knowing how much it bothered you.

Your eyes landed on his arms, bare from the sleeveless shirt he was wearing, the veins showing every time he taped a new button, hands so perfect as if they were shaped from a goddess.

You gulped, unconsciously rubbing your thighs together. It wasn’t the first time you had such weird fantasies about Heeseung, it was no lie he was drop dead gorgeous, though sometimes you wished he’d see you as more.

The way he treated you, the way he scared anyone who ever dared to breathe your same air— it just fuelled your filthy and contorted desires. However, when he played his games he always seemed to forget about you— which frustrated you a lot.

You palmed your breasts through the fabric of the loose shirt, your nipples hardening and poking, their outline showing. Your gaze fell on his clenched jaw, wondering if he’d have the same face while fucking you, filling you up with his load.

Impatient, you reached for his pillow, the one he usually put his head to sleep on, the thought turning you on even more and sat down on it, your clothed core stroking against it. You moved your hips back and forth at a sweet rhythm, letting out soft hums when your clit rubbing made you feel a warm feeling in your stomach.

You closed your eyes, imagined you were riding Heeseung’s face, his pointed nose poking your clit while his warm tongue fucked your cunt, burying himself deeper in between your thighs.

“Seriously?” Your actions were abruptly stopped by a deep groan, your eyes shot open and there Heeseung was, manspreading on the chair now turned around to face you, his gaze so dark and piercing.

“Acting like a fucking needy slut?” He chuckled bitterly, “You know my mic was on, right? Everyone heard you moaning.” He tsked mockingly.

Your hips kept moving, your head threw back “Just wanted your attention.” Your hoarse voice went straight to his cock, hardening against his grey sweats.

He glanced at you, his stare piercing. You looked straight out of his night fantasies, the way you were grinding on his pillow, your sweet scent intoxicating it. He removed his earphones and palmed his clothed hard on.

“Keep going.” He ordered and you complied, your mind too cloudy to leave space for shake. After all, that was what you both wanted the most “Show me how you’d ride my cock, baby.”

The pet name made your stomach fill with butterflies, you gripped the pillow and moved almost manically on it, the sound of the bed squeaking filling the room.

“Did you want everyone to hear you?” He asked, still palming his cock “Mh? Did you want all my friends to hear your moans?”

You shook your head “No,” You breathed out, slowing your movements “Only you.”

“Fuck,” He cursed, his cock twitching in his boxers “Raise your shirt, let me see your tits.”

You let out a soft hum and did as he asked, raising your shirt, hooking it under your chin to squeeze your breasts and show it to him “So perfect,” He almost dropped at the sight, “And so mine.” He growled.

“Heeseung—“ You panted, your eyes half lidded “Hee… m’so close.” Your movements were sloppy, signalling that your orgasm was about to hit you.

“Don’t cum,” He ordered, “Don’t fucking cum, stop.” and you stopped, your eyes red from your denied orgasm.

His eyes softened, your fucked up state was too much for him, your sweaty forhead and panting breath— Hell, he was going to ruin you.

“Come here.” He patted his laps and you nodded, getting up from the bed, stumbling a little as you reached him. You sat down on his laps, his big hands securing your waist.

“Isn’t this better?” He asked, making your body grind on his clothed bulge, your wetness seeping through the fabric “Fuck baby— you’re so wet.”

You let out a shaky breath, your eyes closing when his lips connected to your neck, leaving wet kisses “Do you want me to fuck you?” He whispered.

“Yes,” you breathed out “Yes Hee, please.” He smirked at your pleads and raised you up, just enough to pull down his sweats and boxers. His cock sprung free, red and so hard.

You widened your eyes, you had always known he’d be thick since the shadow of his bulge always appeared when he worked out or went to swim, but you had never imagined it’d be that huge.

“Like what you see, mh?” Heeseung smirked, his hand sneaking on the back of your head to fist your hair, making you look up at him “Answer me.”

Wetness pooled on your panties at his rough and dominant voice, you nodded “Yes.”

“Good girl,” He let go of your hair and helped you out of your own pants, leaving you only in your loose shirt and underwear.

His breath hitched, biting his bottom lip “You’re so perfect,” He raised your shirt, hooking it on itself so you wouldn’t have to keep it in your hand.

Heeseung inched closer and took your tit in his mouth, sucking and biting on your nipple. You breathed heavily, one hand caressing the little hair he had on the back of his neck, nails almost digging in it.

He detached from your breast and kissed his way up to your neck, licking and nibbling. He reached your lips and took them into a hungry kiss, so passionate. You moaned when you felt his fingers hook your panties to the side, the cold air of the room hitting your core, making it clench around nothing.

“So eager to be fucked dumb.” Heeseung growled, guiding you on his cock. You put your hands on his broad shoulders as you slowly went down, the mushroom tip of his cock pressing against your wet folds.

You hissed when the tip entered your pussy, stretching you so good. You were no virgin, but no guy you ever had sex with was as big as Heeseung,

He held your waist tightly, helping you until you were all down, bottoming out. He cursed under his breath, your warm cunt hugging his shaft so perfectly he could almost cum right there “Shit baby- you feel so good.”

He started guiding you up and down on his cock, not really leaving you any place to do what you wanted, using you as if you were a sex doll. And you honestly lived for it “H-Hee… S’good.”

His big hands wrapped around your waist and you hid your face on the crook of his neck, moaning out his name. You could smell the scent of his cologne, clouding any thought in your mind along with the pleasure he was giving you.

“You don’t know how much I’ve been wanting to fuck you.” He groaned, lifting your ass cheeks, gripping them so he’d leave his marks on you “To just claim you, fill you up with my cum, breed you.” Heeseung rumbled absentmindedly “You’d look so good with my cum dripping out of you.”

His dirty talking only made you clench around him more, the stretch almost painful but too good you begged him to go faster. And how could he say no to you? He grabbed your ass cheeks and held you in place while his hips jerked up, thrusting inside of you.

Soft hums and moans filled the room, you grasped his shoulders and dug your nails in his flesh, trying to steady yourself.

“Pussy made for me.” He rumbled, rutting inside of you at a fast pace “You’re so mine, right?— Fuck— You’ll let someone else fuck you like I do?”

In your blissful state you managed to shake your head “Only you Hee,” You moaned out “I want only you.”

Heeseung rewarded you with a spank on your ass, the mark of his fingertips red on the cheek “Say it again.”

You cried out in pleasure, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten “Mph— Just want you to fuck me.”

“Good fucking girl,” He groaned, rutting into you, hitting your cervix with every thrust “Heeseung.” You gasped, your nails leaving painful marks on his skin but he did not mind at all. In fact, he hoped you’d leave marks on all his back. “I know,” Heeseung said “Let’s cum together, just a little more.”

You let out a small sob, your eyes watery from the amount of pleasure you felt all at once, his cock made to thrust inside your pussy. His arms hugged you tightly against his chest, one hand squeezing your ass cheek “Fuck, Fuck,” He pated, his eyes squeezing.

“Gonna cum too baby- Gonna fill you up so good.” He let out a husky groan as his load shot inside of you, coating your walls as you came around his cock. It twitched inside of you, so much cum filling you up until you felt so full.

Heeseung loosened his grip a little, enough to let you move freely as you laid back a little, you both panting heavily, sticky with sweat.

Heeseung looked down at where your bodies connected, some cum dripping down from your pussy to his laps. You could feel him harden again inside of you which made your eyes widen. Was it even possible to get hard that quickly? Heeseung let out a deep chuckle.

He got up from the chair with you still in his arms and laid you down on your back on his bed. You watched him through confused eyes-

Heeseung dried the wetness under your eyes and whispered in your ear “Let me have you once more..”

“But—“ You shook your head, your body was tired and still shaken from the orgasm “I’ll be quick.” He rubbed his nose on your cheek, his figure hovering on yours.

“M’tired..” You murmured, your eyes closing. But Heeseung only let out another dark chuckle “You’ll take it, yeah?” He started pounding inside you, slow but deep

“You’ll take it like the good girl you are.” It wasn’t a question, but an order.

And you were too down for him to neglect him.

#enhypen #enhypen smut #heeseung smut #lee heeseung smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #heeseung hard hours #lee heeseung hard hours #heeseung hard thoughts #lee heeseung hard thoughts #enhypen smuts #heeseung smuts #lee heeseung smuts

[totaly-obsessed]

On the Road

Barcelona Femení x reader request

-> Chaos on the Bus with Claudia, Patri and Ona - trying to keep you distracted.

-> A little closer look from pt. 1 - Changes

-> Word Count: 610

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

“Esmee! Have you seen my bag? I swear I put it next to you.”

The Dutch woman looked at you, eyes wide in panic - poor girl was even more scared than you to make the starting eleven for the first time. 

“Nej. I don’t know where it went.”

But then you could already hear two particular people giggling behind you, before a hand hastily pulled you back to the seat just on the other side of the aisle, letting you still sit next to your quite new friend. 

“Pina wanted to sit next to you, Cari!”

Just as you had suspected. The culprit had been Patri, her hands still on your shoulders as she squeezed them teasingly. Her neighboring seat was still empty, usually occupied by the short forward beside you. 

But it didn’t stay that way for too long, as an unsuspecting Ona was promptly pulled down next to Patri as she tried to walk past the chaotic best Friends, a short yelp leaving her as she toppled over. “Actually, I wanted to sit with -”

“Tu amor. We know.” Claudia and Patri cackled, finding themselves to be the funniest people on the bus as they turned around to see a certain British defender, sulking further back. “Ai Lucia! We’re stealing your girlfriend! You don’t mind - right?”

The Midfielder didn’t wait for an answer as she turned back around, nudging Ona back down, who had tried to escape while she wasn’t looking. “Nuh-uh. You stay, spend enough time with her as is.”

Ona’s eyes all of a sudden had a certain sparkle back in her eyes. “Awhh, is little Patri jealous that she’s all aloneeee?” The Mallorcan scoffed, clearly offended by the brunette's statement. “I’ll never be jealous of you… Dating that fossil over there.”

You could have sworn to hear an “Oi!” from further back, but it was drowned out by Pina’s and your loud laughter as Ona was speechless, mouth open in shock before she gathered herself. “At least I am in a relationship - while fans speculate if you and Pinita here are dating!”

The pure disgust on their faces made you laugh even harder while both of them grumbled something under their breath, while Ona looked very pleased with herself. She was glad to help you with your nerves, knowing that Mapi wasn’t here and that it threw you off.

Esmee had now been kidnapped as well, sitting next to Salma a few rows in front of the chaotic four. Ingrid sat alone in front of her, a reminder that Mapi was not there, while she tried to keep an eye on you and the young dutchie.

“Cari, do you have your boots?” Apparently dating a fossil made Ona worry more than she usually did. 

“Yes Oni, I have my boots. And a change of clothes. And socks. And my wash-bag.” The brunette gave Ingrid a quick thumbs up, who had been the sole reason she wanted to know. You had already given the Norwegian your bag to look through once you arrived at the training facility, and she had asked again when you entered the bus.

Upon receiving her answer Ingrid turned back around, ready to read on her way to the stadium. Usually, you would sit with her and Mapi, but with her girlfriend being out of order, and you being nervous, she couldn’t help herself but worry. 

Seeing Patri, Ona, and Pina making you laugh, keeping your mind busy was all she needed to see for calm travels - but not before snapping a cute picture of all four of you laughing, sending it to her favorite defender, with the caption “She’ll be just fine.”

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso #woso imagines #barca femeni #barca femeni x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen #patri guijarro x reader #patri guijarro #ona batlle #ona batlle x reader #claudia pina #claudia pina x reader #mapi león x reader

[rebeliz7]

Ride

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Request: 28, 37 & 64 with Wan? R is in love with Wanda but Wanda is between R and Vision and every time R tries to talk to her about it Wanda just gives excuses and R feels like Wanda just like her for the sex but Wan realizes she's in love too.

Word Count: 2815

28. “I don’t want to hear your excuses anymore.”

37. “You’re n-not ,um, w-wearing anything under that, are you..?”

…

Vision is - a good guy. He’s the kind of guy that any woman could date and be certain that he’d never hurt them. He’s reliable and polite, and nice to talk to. He’s a good friend, and even a better partner to have in the field. 

He’s been in love with Wanda for the entirety of his existence. You don’t think he even knew what love was when he fell for her, and still. 

They make a good looking couple, and Wanda seems to fit in his arms. Especially when they’re dancing like they’re currently doing. 

There’s a part of you that wants to desperately go over there and ask him to remove his hands from Wanda’s waist, but she’s not your girlfriend and you’re not generally a jealous person. 

Still, jealousy beats underneath your skin and you don’t like it. You don’t like it at all. 

Before Wanda, and before you got tangled in this situation, you used to despise jealous people and the feeling as a whole. You didn’t quite understand it either, and you often thought that jealousy was just a response to insecurity. 

There is no room for insecurities with Wanda, you know exactly where you’re standing with her. You two are not in a relationship, and you hate to feel possessive of her but you also can’t help it. Just looking at Vision touching her, as innocent as he does now -as he always does-, is enough to drive you mad. 

You turn in your seat, trying to spare yourself from the visuals any longer.

Usually you’d be enjoying a night like tonight. You like to dress up, put on some make up, do you hair and pick a nice outfit to wear. You should be mingling, trying to befriend whatever new person Tony is trying to impress, because that’s what these little parties serve for after all. 

Tonight you sit by the bar by yourself, nursing a drink and although dressed to the nines, you don’t feel like talking to anyone. 

“Can I get some water?” You haven’t even noticed the music changing, even less so Wanda approaching the bar. 

She looks radiant, of course. Her cheeks are flushed the slightest bit, you guess from all that dancing, and she’s smiling widely when she meets your eyes and you’re pulled into her orb immediately. 

“Hi.” You smile and her smile twists into something else, something more meaningful and private. 

“Hi.” She husks out, her voice dropping lower as she walks closer to you and takes the glass of whiskey from your hands to take a drink, her eyes never leaving yours. 

“Thirsty?” You ask as she gently gives the glass back and takes a discrete step backwards. 

She very openly checks you out, her eyes traveling from your face and taking every inch of you where you sit before she meets your stare again. You don’t shy away from her, but you do have - other reactions. 

“Very.” She nods with a sly grin that does inexplicable things to you. 

You breathe in deeply, perhaps in a weak attempt to get a grip of yourself, and you take the opportunity to really look at her too. 

She’s wearing a casual loose black mini dress that looks ridiculously good on her, and that does nothing to conceal the curves you know are under it. Her high heels make her legs look longer than usual, and her hair is down in soft meticulous waves that mixed with that smile, give her an angelic yet sensual appearance altogether. 

“You look amazing.” You smile when you meet her eyes, and she raises an eyebrow in amusement. 

“I feel like you’re talking to my legs.” She says with humor, and you become incredibly desperate to kiss that smile off her lips. 

“Well, obviously.” You reach out as she laughs and you take her hand to pull her closer to you. She wraps one arm around your shoulders and even kisses your cheek, all normal things that can be taken as two friends interacting and nothing more. 

“You look really hot with this.” She whispers, close to your ear, and her hand running down the front of your blazer. 

You swallow with difficulty as she steps backwards again, this time to take the water the waiter has finally brought her. 

She drinks her water and you become entranced with the movement of her throat, and the way her lips stay wet after she puts the glass down. 

Your stomach begins to ache when you can’t control the desire you feel for her, and all that ache slowly travels southwards and you don’t think you can wait another minute to have her. 

“Come on.” You take her hand and you don’t wait to hear an answer, although she’s laughing as she practically jogs behind you to keep up as you pull her out of the suite and towards the elevators. 

The moment the doors of the elevator slide closed you’re kissing her. She’s about to tell you something when you do, and you catch her open mouth in a delicious and drowning kiss. 

She moans softly as she wraps her arms around your shoulders, and you push her against the metal wall. 

You kiss her fully, your hands on her waist as the taste of her cherry lip gloss invades your senses. Even more so when you let your hands travel further down her body and you don’t feel any other fabric under her dress. 

“You’re n-not ,um, w-wearing anything under this, are you..?” You ask against her lips, your throat now dry while you think about her walking and dancing all night long like this. 

“Why don’t you find out.” She husks, her lips gracing yours as she speaks and you feel your knees go weak. 

You swallow with difficulty as your brain short circuits. Your stomach is tied in knots and you’re pretty sure that you’ve never felt as turned on as you feel right now. 

“We need to get to my room.” You tell her with urgency, and she smiles provocatively. 

“You’re taking me to bed?” She asks with an innocent smile that doesn’t fool you at all. 

“Who said anything about a bed?” You retort as you run your hands down her legs, scratching her skin lightly as she combs your hair back with her fingers and you kiss her again. 

You kiss her until the doors slide open, and she’s pushing you lightly with a beautiful smile on her raw kissed lips.

…

You remove her dress as soon as your bedroom door falls shut behind you, and she laughs at your impatience. You, on the other hand, are not laughing at all because she hasn’t been wearing a thing beneath that dress and the realization makes your skin prickle. 

“You’re such a bad girl.” You tell her as you guide her towards your bed. 

“Only because I know you love it.” She teases you, licking your lips and your jaw before she steps backwards and lays on your bed willingly. “Well? Are you gonna make me beg?”

You stare at her and you can’t believe her audacity. A few minutes ago she was dancing with a man who she knows is in love with her, and now she’s here, wet and ready for you to do whatever you want with her. 

You don’t make her beg. You could never. No, you live to give her whatever she wants. You yearn to make her cum as many times as she can resist. 

Your face between her legs and your lips wrapped around her clit, you have the pleasure of making her cum and hearing her moan your name, over and over again. 

While she catches her breath you get rid of your clothes, and then you immediately lay on top of her, wanting to feel her body against yours and desperate for a little release yourself. 

“Baby.” She whispers against your ear as she wraps you in her arms, and accommodates your thigh between her legs while pushing hers against your wet heat. “You’re so wet. I love it.” 

Her easy laughter makes your chest flutter, and you kiss her cheek as you try to find a rhythm with your hips. 

“Of course you do.” You smile and she gasps when you push your hips particularly hard. 

“I want to taste you.” She rolls on top of you, and kisses you needly before she kisses down your body wantonly. 

She doesn’t make you beg either, and the visual of her between your thighs, eyes locked with yours as she eats you out without holding back in the slightest, is enough to push you towards the edge. 

You’re laughing when you come back to your senses, and she’s already peppering your face with sweet kisses and a wide grin on her lips. 

“Wanna put on the strap for me?” She asks mischievously, biting her bottom lip as she waits for an answer. 

“What are you thinking?” You ask as you roll the two of you in bed again. Your lips kissing her cheeks, her jaw, her lips.

“I’m thinking - ” she cups your face, a devilish smile on her lips. “You look really well under me and I really want to ride you.”

You swallow thickly, and the next second you’re promptly getting the strap. 

The process of getting it on catches you both in a fit of laughter, but is comfortable and familiar, and you’re caught thinking that you’ve never had this feeling of belonging with anyone before. 

“Lay down and do nothing.” She instructs you when you’re ready, and you swiftly follow her orders.

You watch her take the toy in her hands as she sits on her heels beside you, that smile never leaving her lips as she strokes the fake dick and sends shots of pleasure directly to your clit each time she moves. 

“You want me to suck you?” She asks and you laugh as she moves to sit on your thighs, her hands never stilling. 

“I kinda do.” You nod and she leans forward to plant a sweet kiss on your lips before she crawls down the bed. 

To say that watching her give you a blowjob is the most bizarre thing you’ve ever seen, would be a poor understatement. Not that you don’t use the strap often, you do, whenever you feel like it. But she’s never offered to suck you before, and you think you might have been missing out. 

There’s something about her and her lips as she bobs her head up and down, her eyes never leaving yours as she struggles to breathe and stubbornly wanting to take the whole thing in her mouth at once. 

But there’s a moment when she comes out for air and she looks at you, and you think you can’t wait another second before you’re inside of her, and she seems to have the same thought. 

Grabbing her hand you pull her up and kiss her messily, and almost desperately. She moves to straddle you and you both work on lining the toy with her entrance before she sinks down on it with a heavy sigh and trembling body. 

For a few seconds she just sits there, and you try to stay still. Her head is thrown back, her hands squeezing your thighs behind her as she swallows and breathes in and out. 

You watch her and you know you want her. You want her for good, for yourself and you need to tell her that. 

When she finally moves her hips and her eyes meet yours again, you know you love her and you think she might love you too. 

She wasn’t kidding when she said she wanted to ride you. She does that enthusiastically for a little while, and when you grab her and roll on top of her, she moans out your name in the most delightful way. 

Her nails are digging on your back as you thrust your hips and fuck her against your mattress as hard as you possible can. 

And when she cums, a tidal wave of pleasure showers you as well, and you cum along with her. 

“I want you.” You tell her as you look up, the toy still buried in her. 

“Again?” She asks breathlessly and amusedly.

“I want you, Wanda. I want to be with you, and I want to be the only person in your life.” You tell her and her smile drops. 

“Let’s not do this tonight, please.” She seems to beg, her hands on your face now, trying to placate you like she’s done many times before. 

“I love you, and I want more than this. I deserve more than this.”

She looks away, still trying to catch her breath and pushes you off of her to be able to get out of bed. 

For a moment all you can feel is rejection, but you take a deep breath as she hurries to grab her dress from the floor and you get up too. 

You throw the damn strap away and you pick up a long shirt and put it on, if only to maintain some sort of dignity in the upcoming exchange. 

“Don’t you dare to leave like this.” You tell her when you see her grabbing her heels and heading for the door.

“What do you want me to say?” She asks you and you walk closer to her. Her hair is a mess, her makeup is smudged and if she walks out right now you have no doubt that anyone who sees her will know what she was just doing. 

“Anything.” You shrug and you see tears gathering in her eyes. “But you can’t just walk away after I told you I love you for the very first time.”

“I really don’t want to ruin this.” She tells you, and her words confuse you.

“How would you ruin this?”

“I always ruin what I love.” She says and you take her hands, letting her heels fall on the ground. 

There it is. 

“That won’t happen with us.” You assure her gently. “You’re my favorite person, and I love you.”

She chuckles when you say that and you go back to feel light, in a way. 

“And I want to be with you. For real this time. Don’t get me wrong, I love the sex. We’re very good at having it, but I want more and something tells me that you do too.”

She doesn’t say anything for a beat, and that’s how you know you’ve hit a point. 

“We will fight.” She argues weakly, and you peck her lips. “We will yell.”

“And then we’ll have make up sex. That’s like, the best sex out there.” You counter, and she laughs. “You love me?” 

“I do.” She nods, her voice soft and honest. She kisses you this time and even presses herself closer to you, so much so that you can feel her heart beating against your own chest. 

“Then no more excuses. We can do this.” You smile and kiss her again. She smiles, her hands on your face as she nods. 

“I’ll have to talk to Vision.” She realizes and you kiss her again. 

“So that’s that?” You ask with a smile. “We’re together now?”

“We are.” She nods and you pick her up and twirl her twice. You’re both laughing when her feet touch the ground again, and things seem to fall back into place. You’re you again.  

“Let him down gently.” You suggest and she takes a deep breath before taking off her dress one more time, and heading straight to your closet and then your bed. 

She’s familiar with your room, she knows where everything is, and she’s stopped asking to borrow your clothes a while ago. You watch her put on some shorts before she looks at you again. 

“I will. He’s such a nice guy.” She says as she throws your comforter to the ground, and you take a clean one from the closet. 

“He really is.” You agree, as you both get under the new comforter. 

“Are we bad people?” 

“Maybe.”

You’ll think about that in the morning, right now you want nothing more than to cuddle your new girlfriend and have a good night’s sleep. 

… 

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff

[luminiamore]

plug connie springer x black stripper reader

warnings: boy is down bad, a little bit of mikasa x reader??, mikasa is famous heree, connie is a tease, he’s also hispanic asf, ya’ll didn’t even make it to the club, hints of yandere, mirror action, he fucks u while he’s crossfaded, wall sex, he talks a lot, dude is rambling, good ole cream pie, gotta love breeding

a/n: i got carried away (⌒_⌒;)

can you guys tell i like my men desperate lol, this is so long i might make this a series (4.9k words)

one down, like five more to goooo

The lifestyle of stripping was something you truly couldn’t get enough of. The late nights. The smooth poles. Dancing on those smooth poles. And most importantly, the money. Oh fuck, how you loved the money. Living the fast life gave you such a rush that you adored it just as much as you hated it.

It’s not your first choice, not by a long shot. You were raised in Jamaica, New York. And your parents., you loved them. Honestly, you did, but you would probably be the most miserable person in the world if you kept heeding their strict Christian views.

You tried everything to reach up to their impossibly high standards. They wanted you to get an A in every assignment? Try A+. They wanted you to wear less revealing clothes because ‘No man will ever want you’? You’re showing up to your classes in turtlenecks just to keep their mouths shut.

You even made it a routine to clean the entire house top to bottom on Sundays since they started complaining that ‘You never do anything around this house.’ It was beyond annoying. You were fucking tired.

Growing up in Notre Dame School of Manhattan was nothing short of horrible. Proclaimed ‘good girls’ snorting more than half a line of coke in the school bathrooms. Drugs you aren’t even sure how they got access to, but then again, they are rich white kids. Teachers and hypocritical professors pretend to be oblivious to the bullshit drama their students are in. Your parents’ oblivion for keeping you here is even greater. Even after sharing stories with them, they would advise you to be more like the students at your school.

It was a miracle you didn’t turn out that far gone, despite what your profession is currently. You’ve smoked a little weed here and there. Experience some sort of awakening tripping off shrooms the weekend your parents took a trip to Barbados.

Without you, of course. Despite this, you were always taken care of. Your differences in opinion would never justify their abandonment of you. You knew they loved you when they got you a ticket to see The Weeknd live after you got a perfect score on your final, not after telling you their opinions on the matter, of course.

‘I don’t know why you listen to such devil music.’

‘I should’ve never gotten you this trash.’

The guilt you felt for wanting to have fun kept you from almost going. You went anyway, choosing to avoid allowing their misery to affect you.

Everything was fine; you played along with this draining game, and everything was fine. Until they decided to kick you out for finding a small baggie of blow (that wasn’t even yours) peeking out from the top of your purse. You don’t even know how it got there.

Honestly, you didn’t. You tried to communicate that while they were packing all the clothes they could find in your closet into two medium-sized luggage bags. But they wouldn’t listen, opting for screaming so loud you could see the neighbors peeking through the window. At the very least, they were kind enough not to throw them onto the concrete ground. Their stubbornness was unyielding. You just couldn’t get through to them.

You were able to rent an apartment you had put a deposit on a month before this happened because of the money in your savings account. Unfortunately, your funds were only sufficient for rent for two months due to groceries and other necessities.

When graduation came, your parents were nowhere to be found, so you realized that you had to find a means of earning money before you ended up sleeping on the streets.

You tried looking for a ’regular’ job -- a barista, a waitress, even applied to be a fucking bartender. It’s not as easy as it seems when those who already have one talk about finding a job. Why do they claim that they need to hire immediately and yet still reject you? Considering that your lack of work experience prevents you from being hired, you feign a little on your resume. Turns out, you’re not a very good liar.

Where was pretty privilege when you needed it?!

Despite applying to 500 companies, none could offer you a job within the next two weeks, which happened to be when your rent was due.

You really had no other option. You took your pretty ass and marched to the nearest club. Which happened to be the... Hustlers club? Why did that sound familiar? 

Upon entering, you outright demanded to speak with the person in charge, and when you saw him, he demanded that he offer you a job. Lucky for you, the owner happened to be there that day. He observed the little moment you had when you stormed in..well, he observed the way your tits bounced in your low-cut tee and immediately pulled you into his office.

He had the thought that you would make him a lot of money if you worked for him, and he’s sure his business partner would agree if she saw you. He just had to make sure.

A figure appeared in the corner, striking up from the edge of his desk and making a slight sniffling noise. A girl, a beautiful one with distinct Asian features. Her leather skirt was short, only barely covering past 2 inches of her thigh. Her tits were pushed up to a necklace in a black corset-like top. An ornamental gold necklace.. with the letter M.

Wait. Is that-

That’s where it dawned on you why the name of this club sounded so familiar. On a random Tuesday afternoon, you find yourself standing in front of a celebrity. You were standing in front of Mikasa Ackerman. The Mikasa Ackerman. As in, owner of Mirror Palais, the highest-paid model in Japan, co-owner of one of the best clubs in New York, Mikasa Ackerman. Oh shit.

You remember seeing her on an Instagram reel in front of this very club, along with the other owner. The other owner, his name was.. what was it again? He swivels you around to face him, almost as if he hears your thoughts,

“Eren Yeager, sweetheart.”

A soft handshake accompanied by a gentle tone. He was quick to introduce you to the beautiful eyes that stayed fixed on your face since you walked into the dimly lit room. Eren guides you towards the brown leather couch where his friend is sitting,

“And, this is the lovely Mikasa. I’m sure you sure you know who she is.”

Feeling intimidated by her intense gaze, you nodded quickly and stumbled a bit when introducing yourself. Her following words didn’t calm your nerves anyhow,

“A real pleasure meeting you, beautiful.”

Eren could tell that Mikasa already liked you; the girl was practically fucking you with her eyes. But he wasn’t here for that; he cleared his throat to draw attention to him in the room. He had a goal in mind: to get you signed up. Eren wanted you dancing in his club today.

He sits you down and swiftly gets into business mode.

‘What kind of position are you looking for?’

‘What’s the minimum salary you want to earn here?’

He tries to get a sense of what you’re looking for before proposing to work as a stripper. Although he wants you to, he can compromise. Server position and the minimum salary you asked for was $65,000.

“And I’m not leaving til I get that or something better.”

Well, you wanted better, right? Eren explains to you that his club didn’t have any more waitress positions and Mikasa...

Well, that day, you found out that she was really good with words. She did a great job at convincing you that you’d make double the amount you asked for moving your perfect body on the pole. I mean...

“Look at that body of yours. You’d be pretty famous here, sweetheart.”

And shit, she was right. You really couldn’t blame the girls who never wanted to leave, simply too addicted to the drugs, to the fast life, especially to the money. The amount of money you made every night was simply insurmountable. And you found it funny because it wasn’t just the money. Really, it wasn’t.

The sensation that occurs when your lower body rotates on the pole. The art of dancing like this ignited such a passion from you. The attention, from the men and the women. One of the most popular clubs in the city had you as a crowd favorite. You knew it shouldn’t be something you liked; you never wanted to get too wrapped up in a life like this. But shit, it was sensational.

You didn’t let it slip, even though you shined on the stage. There are people who would take advantage of you even more if they knew you actually enjoyed what you do; you know this. When it was time to go, you left with no hesitation. You had to remind yourself of what you were here for, to provide and care for yourself until you find a better job.

And you stuck to that goal for a solid five months; nothing deterred you. Of course, that’s what you’re thinking. In reality, from the very first moment Eren had you on that pole, you found yourself coming back for one reason. Even if you weren’t subconsciously aware of it, him.

Connie, you heard the owner greet one day. He was definitely attractive. There was something about him, something about how he threw money at you and only you. Your body shivered without fail due to the gray eyes that watched your every move. The way he man spreads and tilts his head back when taking a hit, revealing neck tattoos that you know cover his stomach under that black Nike Tech hoodie. He was so fucking fine.

Only a few men can pull off a buzz cut. How does he do it so effortlessly? Maybe it was the color? How would he change it like it was nothing every two weeks?

You noticed he had a thin mustache, and when you got closer to his face.. Fuck. Was that a diamond nose ring?

He was a drug dealer. You caught that three months ago. Around that point, he began asking for you to exclusively serve his section. Eren had no problem with that; after all, this was his friend. But Connie started getting.. greedy. He wanted more than that. He started getting bold. He wanted your body on that twirling solely for him.

“Hell no.”

Eren filled the quiet section. Your body was followed by both green and gray eyes as you moved on the stage, with Connie’s eyes being more intense and focused compared to the other. The thriving club was filled with both of them enjoying a glass of Richard Hennessy Cognac in the VIP area.

Connie never had a good relationship with mixing Henny and weed. He was aware of that. He has a tendency to indulge in sinful thoughts. He didn’t let that stop him from rolling the blunt anyway.

His mind would get drawn towards dangerous places, mainly when he saw you. The way your thong disappeared between your cheeks under your lacey two-piece made him ready to fuck you right there. To show those perverted and prickly eyes that stuck like glue onto you that they could never have you. That you were his. Or, you will be.

Connie hasn’t even fucked you yet. Hasn’t gone anywhere near the sticky wetness he knows you have in between your legs.

You two indulge in what you could only describe as subtle grinding in the back rooms. All the dancing that you’re supposed to be doing on the pole, you’re doing on his lap instead. It was against the rules; you especially knew this. That didn’t stop either of you. Well, more so Connie than you.

At first, his best friend was against it. The customers you brought in were earning him at least $100k a night. While his other show girls were beautiful, you radiated a different type of aura onto the stage. You were something different. It was genuinely insane how you could move, you didn’t even have prior training. You found that every night, you got better than the previous; it was a natural talent.

Connie, being Connie, offered Eren twice that amount for every night he gets to spend with you alone. That was every night you were on the clock, besides, he had no problem making that back by the next day. When it came to his girl, there was never a problem for him.

And Connie never regretted the amount he spent on you. Being alone with you was something he had grown to crave incessantly. To him? It was worth it. He’d get so excited to just walk into the back room and find you waiting for him. All pretty, just tempting him to ruin you. Then, when you start performing in front of him, your body moves in a way that would hypnotize the stoic man.

And it wasn’t just your body to Connie. There was a certain allure to you. He was observant of the way you moved, spoke, and behaved. He understood that someone like you doesn’t come by every day. He just had to have you, own you. Your body, your fucking soul, everything you possessed, he wanted it for himself. He didn’t care if it sounded selfish; he’s okay with being that when it comes to you.

It’s reasonable to assume that he would have the final say on what you wear for him since he was the only person you would dance for, right? That was the route he took to get your number. That’s the reason you got a text from him while you were getting ready to shower for your night shift.

One of his friends- Was he talking about Mikasa?

You could have given it more thought, but your shift was only an hour away, and Connie was on his way. Using a small gray towel, you drape it onto the fat of your wet boobs. Your hands lather your Shea Butter oil on the top of your left thigh quickly, but you stop when your doorbell rings.

“Coming!”

You yelp, quickly slip on your slippers, and move toward the door. The man had always taken you home, and on the other side of the coin, he always took you to work. You didn’t bother asking how he knew your address the first time, afraid that it would spark an answer you’re not ready to hear. Occasionally, if you were too intoxicated to carry yourself to your apartment, he would act as your knight in shining armor and hold you in bridal fashion to your door without saying a word.

It should have been simple enough: he goes in and gets out. And it would have been that simple if he hadn’t seen your pink lacy thong loosely hanging off your door knob. He was simply a man, one who desired to feel every part of you. The tip of that thong was hanging out of his pockets when Connie left your apartment that night.

Swinging your door open makes you almost breathless. Connie was a tall person. Everything about him just screamed: big. He was easily over 6 feet 2 inches tall, and he came to your door carrying a medium-sized shopping bag. You step back, observing as he comes in right after taking his slides off by your door.

“You’re here early, Con. I’m not ready yet.” You whisper, still a little perplexed he’s already here. Despite the amount of money you know he has, you rarely ever see him in anything other than a white tee and black sweats. Today was no different. Minor differences in each pair made it clear that they were different every time. You suppose it had something to do with his dangerous line of work.

He hands you the cream-colored bag, and his eyes never leave your lips all the while. You suddenly became very conscious that you were breathing the same air as Connie, who appeared right in front of you. He leans in, the ghost of his lips felt against your collarbone,

“You smell good,” His tatted hands sneakily climbed their way onto your wide hips. Before muttering a curse under his breath, he squeezes once. For the first time since meeting you, Connie isn’t being truthful. He didn’t come to your apartment to take you to your job. Tonight, he had different intentions.

He came tonight to put a full stop to the cat-and-mouse game that you guys have been playing for the past five months. Two fully packed blunts and three shots of Don Julio convinced him that his attraction towards you was not going away.

He should’ve realized it when he started making a habit of watching over you outside of the strip club. She needs someone to protect her, he thinks. You don’t pay attention to your surroundings. You have no idea, don’t you? Your beauty could easily lead to someone from the club becoming obsessed and following you. Anyone who wasn’t him.

He also should’ve realized it when he started beating his dick into overstimulation to your pictures on Instagram. And after your shift. Of course, before your shift. Eren witnessed him having to excuse himself during your shift because his dick was painfully throbbing against his boxers.

Connie really liked you. And somewhere in that twisted mind of his, he believed that you two were truly meant for each other. He should’ve never waited this long, “Put this on, ma.”

He pushes the bag towards your chest and moves your hips in the direction of your room. Your thighs twitch as you hum and make a little run to the end of your hall. He follows after you slowly, eyes shifting to the way your ass peaks out from under the towel.

This scene feels oddly familiar. A predator stalking its prey, just waiting for the right moment to pounce. You didn’t know what Connie came here to do; in your mind, you were just getting ready for work. He almost felt sorry for you, almost felt sorry for how he was going to ruin you, almost.

He made sure to take his time approaching your door so that you could be ready and prepared for him when he arrived. And you didn’t disappoint. In front of your vanity makeup mirror, you were sat on the cushion chair. Applying what looked like oil from a flower bottle onto your neck.

You look better in the dress than he expected. Your fat tits sitting so perfectly, and the lace meshing with your skin. You pretended to ignore him behind your seat, starting to feel the weight of his presence around you. This was probably the thinnest item you had ever owned, yet his hands pressing on your shoulders made your skin feel like it was on hot volcanic soil.

You catch his eye in the mirror, and despite your flustered state, he doesn’t grant you the satisfaction of looking away. Not even while his hands lower down to your rib cage, right under your plush boobs. Especially not even while his giant palms wrap around the fabric covering your nipple in a tight grip.

You gasp, a moan bottling in your throat, “C-Con!”

It could have been the way you uttered his name or the way your head pressed against his chest. Regardless, Connie lost control and dropped his head into the crook of your neck, beginning to sprinkle small, wet kisses. He grips harder, and you... you get louder.

“You drive me fucking insane,” Your flesh is now exposed to his hands as they slip into the dress. “Skin so soft,” He kneads his hands into your chest, squeezing as if he’s hoping milk will pour out of them. He groans, “God, you’re so perfect mama.” The thought of that makes a shiver run down his body.

Poor Mikasa, she spent all night working on that dress once she heard it was for you. Connie didn’t even let it last for a good ten minutes before you heard a faint rip sound in the midst of your whimpers.

Your brain is struggling to keep up with the speed of everything happening. You attempt to tilt your head back, but he shuts it down right away. “Eyes on the mirror.” He moves one hand to your throat, keeping you still. You feel your body shake under his hold, twitching slightly from his small attack. You didn’t have the courage to look away, not even as far as you could.

“I’ve been so patient.” Squeezing your left nipple, he drops his fingers down the ripped material until they reach the top of your pussy lips. “Cumming to the thought of your pretty face like a fucking teenager,” His words bring a mewl to your lips. Your body starts sweating, nervous at the way his fingers are just rubbing circles around your skin.

Would he pull away if your hips jerked against his hand? You hoped against all odds that he wouldn’t. You’ve never allowed yourself to feel this desperate for anyone, but being around Connie left you like this. You were at a loss for what to do. Your thoughts were racing to find something, anything, that would bring him closer to you.

It’s unclear what motivated him to answer your prayers. But in the next moment, he pushed his middle finger into the center of where your slick was overflowing onto the cushion. He creates slight tap sounds with the puddle between your fat lips, playing with you.

Your eyes close for just a second and burst wide open when you feel a sudden intrusion in your sticky hole. “A-Ah!” A sob leaves your lips, your eyes falling back to your face in the mirror when you register his next words,

“Eyes on the mirror, mama. I haven’t done anything to you yet,” As Connie slowly moves his fingers into and out of your dripping core, his eyes struggle to keep track of your face in the mirror or the stain you’re beginning to make on his digits.

He settles with the stain you’re creating. He’s massaging your walls in a way that you can’t help but cover them in a creamy white. It’s impossible not to moan with shaky breaths, whispering his name. He figures the wait was worth it. His dreams couldn’t have prepared him for the real thing. It was more noisy, was more sticky, and it was.. real.

What do you taste like?

Your hips shake as he suddenly removes his fingers from you. You whimper, annoyed by the absence of the touch of fingers on your wet walls, but you stop yourself when you see his movements in the mirror. His mouth wraps around his middle and ring finger, sucking your juices to the fullest. Your breathing stops when he moans, “You taste so fucking good.”

Connie silently pulls you up from your seat and presses you against the nearest wall, causing the ripped dress to fall to the floor. Instantly, your back arched into the prominent bulge that was pressing on your bare ass. Your thoughts wander back to your last session with Connie in the backroom. All that desperate grinding.

“You were squeezing so tight around my fingers,” He pushes his sweat down to remove his throbbing hard dick with a little effort. “Y’gonna squeeze my dick like that next?”

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

You jump every time the base of his cock slaps down on your ass. Both of his hands grip your sides, his eyes rolling back as he slides his dick back and forth in between your leaking pussy lips.

“Oh f-fuck! Connie,”

Your voice cracks when you call out for him, and he smiles. He cannot deny that this is the perfect thing; it was always meant to be like this. He spreads your cheeks as wide as he can, lining his tip up to your hole that’s clenching around nothing.

“Yeah, b-baby?” Fuck, you were so wet. “Want me to fuck you? Want- Oh fuck. Want Connie to make you scream?”

Your lips tremble, and you try to slide his dick inside you by pushing your hips back. He lets you, too weak himself, to stop you from taking what you wanted. All you can think right now is Connie, Connie, fucking Connie.

“Shittt. Want y-y’to to make me cum! P-please!”

Pushing him even further inside without his help proves to him that you truly want him to make you scream. You’re barely making it halfway with his thick and long build. Connie is incredibly proud of you right now, taking his dick like a desperate bitch and moaning to fuck the rest of his inches in.

He pulls a little of himself out of you, only to flush his hips abruptly against yours with one single push. Groaning at the same time you gasp out, he whispers in your ear, “Scream for daddy, mama.”

You were so full. His cock tip was touching places that you’ve never been to on your own before, causing your mind to go haywire. His pressure against your cervix was so intense it would have been painful if you weren’t so wet. You oblige almost embarrassingly quickly the moment you feel his dick drag at a steady pace inside of you.

Connie regrets not having done this sooner, as the drugs he took earlier are still mixing in his system, alternating and speeding up his thoughts. His body was ablaze. You’re covering the entire length of his dick with your juices, causing him to become frantic and desperate to get more out of you. His thrusts match his crave. You were warm, and your cries were heaven to his ears, “Big! Y’re so b-big, daddy!”

You’re not complaining, far from it, as he tears your pussy to shreds. In fact, you’re taking him so well, and he praises you for it. Like he said, you were made for this moment, for him. You’re such a,

“Good girl. Fuck! My g-good girl takes me so well,”

He can hear your slick drip on the floor below you despite the smacking sound in your room. You’re so needy for him, as he is for you. The walls echoed with your wailing sounds as you fucked him back, making Connie shudder.

He’s gonna cum. He can feel his balls churning as they slap repeatedly against your twitching clit. Fuck. He’s gonna cum so deep inside you he prays it reaches your womb. Although it’s his first time exploring the depths of your perfect cunt, he recognizes that you’re also going to cum.

He can tell by the way your legs are shaking rapidly, by the way, your moans get higher in pitch, by the way, you’re whispering his name out like a prayer. And he’s determined to make you cum before him. Do you squirt? Do you cream? He thinks he’ll die and go to heaven if it’s both. Your next plea erupts another groan to tumble out his mouth,

“M’gonna- M’gonna cum! O-oh fuck- M’gonna cum so h-hard.”

Holding your arms behind your back with his tatted hand, he moves his hips inside you at a faster pace than ever before. “Shit. Me t-too, mama.” He angles his waist to keep pressing into that spongy spot that makes you tremble. “Just like that. Cum, baby. C-cum all over this fat dick.”

Small tears start to fall down your brown cheeks, and your back arches sharply on Connie, causing your stomach to clench at once. The man above you receives both your cream and squirt splashing from your sweet core, and you weep. Your muffled moans fill the air as he cranes your neck towards him for a nasty, drooling kiss.

As he gets closer to his orgasm, his rapid thrusts become sloppy and crazed, and his heart beats twice as fast as he sees the beauty fucked out underneath him. The more Connie moved inside of you, the more he swayed. Your essence was covering his lower half so much that he couldn’t wait another minute before dumping his kids against your cervix, a shaky moan accompanying his release.

His thrusts slow down, causing tiny drops to spill onto the floor, but his lips never leave yours, and he has to remind himself to let you breathe when you start to whine against his mouth. He lets you go and instead presses tiny kisses against your panting mouth.

Both of you, Connie in particular, were on cloud nine. Your clenching onto him brings Connie’s mind back to Earth, but he is not satisfied. He wanted to go again. He needed it, so it was only natural he started moving at a steadfast pace inside you again.

“Again. Let’s go a-again, mama. Shitt. Your pussy is so-”

Before that night, you’ve never experienced pleasure on this level. Connie took you, on every corner of the house. Both of you left unaware of Eren’s multiple missed calls as he fucked his cum into you like a dog in heat. It’s safe to say that you didn’t show up for work that night or the night after. Connie made sure you never danced at a strip club again.

@hatake05 @thickbihhwitdagapp 🫶🏾

#lumiwrites #plug connie #connie springer x black reader smut #18+ content #aot smau #aot smut #aot x black reader #aot x reader #aot x black y/n #connie springer #connie x black reader #connie x black y/n #connie x you #mikasa ackerman #mikasa aot #connie aot #connie attack on titan #eren yeager x black reader #eren yeager #mikasa x reader #mikasa x black reader #aot fanfiction #x black reader smut

[pomefioredove]

having a crush on you

summary: how they would act having a crush on you type of post: headcanons characters: pomefiore (vil, rook, epel) additional info: reader is yuu, reader is gender neutral, rook is rook, not proofread, hi I'm insane and I love pining, I NEED to write another fic but with rook. might write this same prompt with other dorms

𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭

don't take his calm and collected facade as apathy

he's slowly losing his mind about this

"pacing back and forth, mumbling to himself, falling asleep thinking about you" kind of losing his mind

it's my personal belief that Vil hasn't been in love before this

hasn't even really thought about it

so when you enter the picture it kinda throws him off balance

and with the exception of Rook, no one can even tell

he is an actor, after all, he can play the part of "totally platonic friends with room for Jesus"

(maybe a little too well)

but Vil isn't entirely emotionally repressed

he keeps things to himself, yes, but he's quite conscious of his own wants and needs

so when he realizes he's been craving your presence more than usual he does acknowledge it

in his head

and then does nothing about it for months

...what? he's busy

things like this can wait for him, and he doesn't want to put a rift between you two in case it might be a passing feeling

well... it doesn't pass

he becomes keenly aware of how much he wants you around him, how much he thinks about you, how much your very presence is enough to make him happier than he's ever... really felt

and you know what?

he is totally cool about it.

just kidding. he drives himself insane trying to think of the perfect way to confess, something that will impress you and meet his standards

he's dropping hints left and right and you don't seem to be picking any of them up

which again, just makes him crazy

(some days he really wants to ask you how oblivious one person can be, but he restrains himself)

I mean, how many times can he send you red tulips before you finally get the hint? he's practically spelling it out for you!

there is... a tiny, little part of him that worries you don't reciprocate

is he not your type? are you interested in someone else? perhaps he'd been too harsh on you, after all...

the fact that one little potato can make him so worried absolutely drives him mad

he is the vision of poise and grace and you are ruining him

and this sort of mood comes and goes in waves

just when he thinks he's pulled himself back together, you'll smile at him or say something cute and suddenly he's back to square one

(you're so adorable it's annoying -_-)

while he's sorting out a good way to express his feelings properly, he'll be spending all his free time with you

you need some new things? he'll be glad to take you shopping

you came over to see Epel? oh, well, he's not here, but you should stay for some tea, anyway!

your afternoon is free? he has some new lip gloss he's been dying to test out...

𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭

contrary to popular belief, I don't think Rook would be so open about it

he still compliments you, of course, and sings praises of your beauty and elegance, and has little regard for personal space, as always

but he's like that with a lot of people, so it's hard to really tell when he likes someone

the truth of the matter is that Rook Hunt can be just as reserved with his feelings as anyone else

when he really, really likes someone, he keeps it to himself

why?

he's hunting you he's learning more about you before making his true feelings known

he feels it's necessary to have an adequate amount of information on his target before making a move, after all

for reference: you catch his eye at orientation, and do not have a single conversation with him until after winter break

(of course, after that, you start mysteriously running into him everywhere)

is he kinda weird about it? uh. yeah.

this is Rook we're talking about

on the other hand, he's completely lovesick about you and it's almost cute

he's definitely the type to write your initials in a journal with a glitter pen while kicking his feet back and forth and giggling

seeing if you would sound better with his last name or he with yours...

definitely has a very weird photo collection of you somewhere in his room

along with stacks of poems, pressed flowers, and little gifts he intends to give you once he's won you over

(when, not if. Rook is nothing if not patient)

you may find a rose left outside Ramshackle every so often

or a few cans of tuna for Grim

all while acting like the same old eccentric Rook, no discernable difference

except when you can feel his eyes on you at random places in the middle of the day

Ace and Deuce call you paranoid but you can't shake the feeling

though, every once in a while he'll get a little grumpy

Rook is easily jealous, and while that sort of possessiveness never extended to untouchable idols like Vil and Neige, he's already decided that you're his prey

and he'd kindly ask everyone else to find their own, thank you

he hasn't exactly planned the confession yet, but just know it's probably going to be the sweetest and craziest you've ever heard

𝐄𝐩𝐞𝐥 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐫

first of all he's going to fight you for making him like you so much

second of all he's going to beg for a chance

maybe not in that exact order

Epel is constantly at war with his own emotions and having romance thrown in the mix is. uh. not optimal

not only does it ruin the stoic, strong male persona he's been trying to build, but it's also making him feel all soft and gushy

suddenly he cares about looking nice

(much to Vil's approval)

and now he wants to do nice things for you?

he's gonna bite you

how dare you make him think about kissing and holding hands!

don't you know he's supposed to be above all this romantic stuff? what is he, Rook?!

then, after his initial temper tantrum, he starts coping. hard.

he might be able to stomach the idea of being an item if he gets to wear the pants in the relationship

...yeah, right? right.

if you let him be the man, if you let him protect you...

he might be okay with it!

obviously he starts trying to show off his manly strength (seriously) every time he sees you

starts making comments about how tough practice was on him

will literally never let anyone else carry anything for you ever again

he even provides for you (in payments of apple juice)

obviously this backfires 'cause the second you do something that gives him butterflies he's back to giggling

(you'll have to ease him into the idea of being soft and romantic together, but he'll get there)

but, to his credit, he'd be the first out of all the above to confess

super suddenly and out of nowhere (and he ends up shouting it cause he didn't want to sound chicken) but it's sweet in its own way

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #rook hunt x reader #epel felmier x reader #queued

[thetriumphantpanda]

thunderstruck | marcus pike

Summary | You're scared of storms but it's okay, because Marcus always knows how to soothe you.

Pairing | Marcus Pike x F!Reader

Word Count | 1.4K

Warnings | Explicit - descriptions of thunderstorms, softness/fluff, rain, established relationship, oral sex (f receiving), dirty talk, our boy Marcus just being Marcus. No use of y/n.

Authors Note | This is my contribution to @undercoverpena's April Showers Challenge. It's a blessing that I got anything out because this brief gave me so many ideas, but I've missed my man and knew he would be the one I'd want to comfort me through a rain storm. Enjoy.

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

Divider by @saradika

Are you busy?

No baby, what’s up?

I don’t like the storm.

They’ve never been your favourite. Something about growing up on the coast, when the rain and wind would bring the waves crashing near your home, and your parents would walk about like nothing was wrong and there wasn’t the immediate danger of your house being washed out to sea. The nights, when the wind would clatter the shutters against the windows and drag tiles from the roof to break onto the ground. It might be Washington D.C. now and you might live in a new apartment building, but it doesn’t make the torrential rain and gale force winds any easier to handle.

You’re sitting on the couch, curtains drawn with all the lights on to try and make it feel less scary, but when the first clap of thunder hits you jump and scream all the same, burying yourself further under the blanket, some childhood wish for that to keep you safe.

There’s a knock at the door a little while later, the only thing that could drag you from the warm cocoon of blankets. Padding gently to the door, you open it, Marcus stood in front of you, dripping wet from the storm outside. He steps across the threshold, arm wrapping around your waist as he dips to press a kiss to the crown of your head.

“This feels stupid.” You grumble as you shut the door behind him, following close to his heels as he walks through your apartment, so familiar with it now that it feels like home to have to him here.

“It’s not stupid if you’re scared, baby.” He soothes, sitting down on your couch, opening his arm to encourage you to snuggle into his side, which you do without question.

You can feel his thumb tracing soothing circles on your arm as you settle a little, but it’s short-lived, when a crash of thunder bellows through the room from outside, making you jump and bury your head into the side of his neck with a groan.

“I blame the coast,” You speak softly, “I was always so scared of it blowing our house away when I was small.”

“You know what helps?” Marcus murmurs against your head, another soft kiss placed to it.

“Hmmm?”

“Sometimes you’ve just got to be louder than the storm.”

You look up at him, confused for a second, until you can feel him moving the two of you, laying you gently down on the couch. His mouth sponges kisses across your neck, trailing down across your collarbone before he drags it away to peel your tank top from your body. You hear Marcus hum in approval at your lack of bra, his hands gently pressing your tits together before his mouth is suckling a nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking over it until it’s stiffened to a peak, giving the same attention to the other side until you’re gasping, bucking your hips into his, the bulge in his trousers evident as his mouth trails further south, tongue leaving a trail from your tits and down your stomach until he gets to the waistband of your pyjama pants.

“Lift up.” He murmurs softly, voice almost drowned out by the constant smattering of rain against the windows.

Doing as you’re told, you lift your hips up, letting him hook his fingers into the waistband to drag them down your legs. You miss the weight and warmth of his body when it’s gone, but then you feel his warm palms on the inside of your thighs, pressing your legs open, and then you don’t mind so much at all, especially when you look up at him, watching him admire the already sticky mess accumulating between your thighs.

Marcus moves to run his thumb across your folds, dragging your slick across your skin, but not daring to dip below to where you truly want him.

“Such a pretty pussy.” He muses, moving to situate himself between your legs, hot mouth pressing wet kisses to the delicate skin of your thighs, teasing you by putting his mouth everywhere but where you need it most.

“M-Marcus, please.” You whimper when his face moves, he’s so close to your cunt you can feel the hot of his breath.

“What do you want, baby?” He asks, running that damn thumb over your folds once more, this time though, his other thumb rests to the side, gently pulling your folds apart to bare you to him, “Want me to kiss it a little?”

“Oh god, oh please Marcus, please.”

“Sound so pretty when you beg for it.” He speaks, and you’re about to say something smart when he leans forward and presses a single, open-mouth kiss to your clit.

It’s tiny in comparison to what you really want, but it makes you throw your head back anyway, back arching, trying to press your cunt closer to his face. Thankfully, he takes pity on you, kisses your clit once, twice more, and then you can feel the tip of his tongue, flicking up against your clit, then dragging back down, sometimes circling, working you gently until you’re whining and bucking your hips into his face.

You’d almost forgotten about the storm outside, the movements of his tongue distracting you just enough, until the loudest clap of thunder echoes through the apartment. It makes you scream, jumping slightly, but you feel Marcus’ hands grip tightly to the skin of your thighs, tearing his mouth away from you. You look down at him, mouth glistening with a mix of your slick and his spit, glint across his brown eyes.

“What did I say?” He asks, squeezing at your thighs again, “What did I tell you earlier?”

“Um…” You wrack your brain, trying to remember, “I needed to be louder than the storm?”

“That’s right, my clever girl,” He praises, heat rising across your skin, “If you scream for me, you won’t notice.”

Once again, before you can retort with your smart mouth, he’s back on you, lips closing around your clit, tongue resuming it’s flicking across your bundle of nerves, but then you can feel two of his fingers sinking inside you, easing into your walls, curling up against that perfect spot inside of you.

It makes you cry out, his name dropping from your lips as you arch off the couch, his tongue working in time to the press of his two fingers in your cunt. You’re chanting his name into the room, moving your hips in time to the movements of his hands until you’re teetering on the edge of bliss. He knows, of course he does, the way your walls start to flutter around his fingers, so he slows his fingers, keeping you dangling over the edge but not quite pushing you just yet.

“Marcus p-please,” You whimper, hands tangling in his hair, “Please make me come.”

“You asked so nicely, baby,” He muses against your pussy, letting his fingers curl just perfectly against the spongy spot inside you, “Whenever you’re ready honey.”

It takes very little more, his mouth suckling at your clit, his fingers pressing inside you, and then you’re crashing, skin aflame with pleasure as you do exactly as he told you and scream his name into the living room, body convulsing, gushing around his fingers as they still inside you. You’re clenching around him as his tongue moves gently across your clit to work you through your orgasm until you’re boneless and pliant beneath him.

Marcus drags his fingers from you, letting them run up the skin of your thighs, as he finally relents and pulls away from you, just in time for more thunder to sound out, this time a little further away.

“Well, listen there,” He whispers, fingers moving to undo the button of his trousers, “Storm still hasn’t passed,” He speaks as he drags the zipper down, “Think you can make a little more noise, baby?”

You reach up, hand clutching the back of his neck to pull him back down on top of you, mouth meeting his, tasting yourself on his tongue as he kisses you before you pull away, “I can make all the noise you want.”

#Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike Smut #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x you #marcus pike fanfiction #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x F!reader #Marcus Pike fic #Marcus Pike fanfic #the mentalist #the mental illness is winning #the mentalist fanfic #the mentalist fanfiction #Pedro pascal #marcus pike fluff #Marcus Pike angst #Marcus Pike Pedro Pascal #Marcus Pike The mentalist

[littlexdeaths]

blondes do have more fun - e.m.

y2k eddie munson x girly reader

warnings: robin and reader get so drunk, reader is too clumsy for her own good

opposites attract masterlist

a/n: another edit and repost of this y2k series. this was the second blurb i ever wrote for them and it was heavily inspired by that one scene in 10 things i hate about you, iykyk. enjoy babes 💕

word count: 1.2k

It was an impulse decision.

So of course he would be surprised.

If you were being honest, you were a little scared to see Eddie’s reaction. Which was why you asked Nancy to tag along with you to the hair salon. Knowing she would give you her honest opinion either way.

It took over two hours to get your locks to the bleach blonde perfection you desired. Keeping your eyes off of the mirror during the entire process due to your nerves. So when the stylist finally spun your chair around, you were genuinely shocked as you fell in love upon meeting your reflection.

You had never done much with your hair over the years, besides the occasional haircut. But you were itching to try out something new. Finding yourself inspired by your latest obsession, Legally Blonde.

You had dragged Eddie to see it with you in theaters more times than you cared to admit— but he never once complained.

He had actually enjoyed it, even making a comment or two about how he thought Reese Witherspoon was pretty. Which got the wheels in your head turning, leading you into a salon chair with bleach covering your head.

“It looks amazing, hun,” Nancy gushed as you left the salon, arms linked together as you ventured deeper into the Starcourt Mall.

There was a new air of confidence about you as you walked, sipping on Orange Julius’ smoothies. You all but dragged her into Wet Seal to help you find the perfect outfit for later. Steve was hosting yet another rager, which had become a recurring weekend event amongst your friend group.

After many trips to the fitting room (and an impromptu fashion show), you eventually walked out of the mall with a mini black dress and matching pair of platform sandals.

You decided to keep this new look under wraps for the rest of the day, waiting until Steve’s party to reveal it to everyone.

As you walked into the male’s home you kept your head high, pushing through the crowd of tipsy college kids to find your friends. Eddie was going to meet you here after band practice had wrapped up. But you couldn’t help but feel your nerves stirring in your stomach.

What if he hated it?

Logically you knew it didn’t matter, it was your hair after all. But you still wanted him to like it nonetheless.

You spotted Robin and Steve in the living room, bounding over to them with a smile. They were clearly in the middle of a squabble of some sort, but Robin’s face lights up once she sees you.

It was quite obvious she was already wasted, her cheeks thoroughly flushed as she stumbled towards you. Steve’s eyes widen in surprise, attempting to reign her back in but she easily shrugs him off.

“Oh my god, Nance told me it looked good. But it’s way better than I could’ve imagined!” She squealed, pulling you into a hug as you just laughed.

She leans closer to your ear, hanging onto your arm for support, “Dude… Eddie is gonna lose it. It’s giving Pam Anderson and Elle Woods— you look hot.”

You felt your cheeks warm from her words, as Steve is finally able to tug her off of you with an annoyed expression. You hadn’t even thought about that, taking a glance down at your attire. It was very reminiscent of an outfit you’d seen Ms. Anderson sporting on the cover of one of those trashy tabloid magazines recently.

Robin was right, per usual but it only makes you more anxious for your boyfriend to arrive.

You make your way over to the kitchen to pour yourself a drink, nearly chugging it in an attempt to make your nerves disappear. But one drink quickly turns into four and having not eaten much before you arrived— you became very drunk, very fast.

So drunk that you didn’t even notice when Eddie finally did arrive, after a very concerned phone call from Steve.

The brunette was already having to babysit Robin, but now he was struggling to keep you both in check. Chasing the two of you around his house, your chorus of giggles barely being heard above the bubbly pop music. Eddie arrives soon after that phone call, searching frantically through the crowd of people to find you.

However it didn’t take him very long to do so.

A crowd had begun to form in Steve’s dining room, as you pulled Robin up onto his table with you. Both of you dancing drunkenly on the top of it, letting the heavy bass pump through you. The both of you ignore the whistles and shouts from the crowd, raising your hands above your head.

Eddie had finally pushed his way to the front of the crowd, watching in amusement as you got a little too into the gyration of your hips. Not a care in the world as you tossed your head back. Seemingly forgetting about the large chandelier that hung behind you. That amusement turns to slight horror as the back of your head smacks right against the light fixture.

A combination of the impact and the alcohol has you feeling lightheaded, your knees start to wobble. Robin gasps in shock, attempting to grab on to your wrist but fails miserably as you lose your balance. Letting you fall back into the crowd and right into a pair of strong arms.

Your vision is blurred and your head starts to spin as the person quickly carries you out of the room, cradling you against their chest. In your inebriated and dizzy state you don’t realize it’s the metalhead you’ve been waiting to see all night.

You squirm in his arms, attempting to get him to put you down, “Excuse me— I have a boyfriend.” You huff, pushing against their denim clad shoulder, “Put me down!”

The pout adorning your lips causes him to chuckle, immediately recognizing the sound. You blink your lashes rapidly as your boyfriend’s face finally comes into focus. That pout is quickly replaced with a toothy grin, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning up to kiss him.

Eddie kisses you back gently, kicking the door shut behind him. He sits you both down on the bed, now in the comfort of Steve’s guest room. You snuggle up into his chest immediately, playing with his dark curls.

“Glad you’ve finally come back down to earth, love,” he hums, "Is your head feeling okay?”

You sigh happily, nodding as Eddie begins to feel the back of your head. Carefully inspecting it to make sure you haven’t done any significant damage. You wince as he finds a tender spot, the male pressing a light kiss to it.

“So you dye your hair and go completely off the rails,” he sighs, shaking his head. “I’m just glad I got here when I did.”

His concerned tone makes you giggle nonetheless, leaning up to press a sloppy kiss against his jaw. The room had finally stopped spinning, and you felt ready to get back to the party.

“You know what they say, Eds, blondes have more fun.”

Eddie just rolls his eyes at you fondly, ruffling your freshly dyed locks.

“Uh huh, sure they do, sweetheart.”

#the freak writes 🫧 #my series: opposites attract 🫧 #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #y2k!eddie munson x girly reader #y2k!eddie munson #early 2000s!eddie munson

[valsdelulucorner]

Mammon head cannons <3

We all know mammon is tsundere, loving to bottle up his emotions towards his loved ones and put on a act. However whenever you two are alone, his tough guy persona melts away completely and turns into your shy demon boyfriend. He both hates and loves that you have that power over him

He loves to collect little trinkets. Hey, no he didn't steal them!..... most of them. I like to think that he has some really sharp eyes so even if something is really well hidden, he spots it a nicks it. He loves showing off his collection to you, talking a million miles a hour as he holds onto your sleeve and boasts about his new tiny thing

If you were to come down to devildom as a welder or a Jewler, oh lord he will try to marry you on the spot. He absolutely loves to watch you work on your creations, even subjecting little ideas he comes up with for you to make. Sure, at the start he tries to steal your creations to sell them but once he gets closer to you, he absolutely loves bringing you his little trinkets to wield into rings and bracelets

Absolutely loves making nests with his pillows and blankets, spreading his body out on top of his nest in his full demon form. He will act all shy if you find him like this on his nest but when he realizes your not making fun of him, buddy, you are in for a long night of cuddles and deep conversation.

Ok hear me out, when mammon cuddles you, he lets out soft snores that sound like a mix between a purr and the sound a crow makes when its happy. He will hide his face in your neck while cuddling as his arms wrap protectively around your waist, subconsciously purring his little heart out in his sleep as his wings cover you in a protective hold

After having you literally die in his arms that one time, he realized how easily it was for you to slip from his fingers so this man does HEAVY research on humans. What humans cant eat, what irritates their skin, what's best for their health, what food will make them live longer, what temperatures they can withstand, the whole 9 yard. He will always give you a bottle of water at morning, noon, and night and will refuse to go anywhere unless you drink some. If he finds out you haven't been drinking through the day, he will genuinely get scared you will die and beg you to drink. He might have missed a few things but he loves you dearly

He gets bad nightmares about loosing you and those dear to him, they started happening more often after he held your dead body in his arms. He would usualy wake up in a cold sweat and go find lucifer, making sure to poke his head into his little brothers rooms to make sure they are ok before going to find comfort in Lucifer. But with you? He would cling to you and thank anyone who would listen that you were still alive, still next to him. He would hide his face in your neck and quietly cry himself back to sleep, being woken up to immediate comfort from you

He mindlessly doodles when he is bored or if he is focused on something else, like you for example. He likes to admire you during class so sometimes when he's supposed to be taking notes, he will start to subconsciously doodle you in his notebook. He will turn bright red if anyone points this out and he will throw his notebook into the wall, just like that video of the guy throwing his laptop into the wall. Poor guy wont get a break

My man will 100% steal you away from his brothers and just go for a walk with you, it doesn't need to lead to anywhere, he just likes talking and being with you

He calls you his little treasure, his jewel, his first, and most likely a nickname of your actual name. They roll off his tounge so easily, he will accidentally call you these Infront of people. "Stay away from my treasure!" ..... "your what?" " D...DONT AVOID THE QUESTION!"

"I wouldn't trade you for all the grim in the world treasure, you mean more to me then money"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I absolutely love Mammon, he is my favorite character but i dont think this was written to the best of my ability. I might come back to this in the future but until then<3

Who should i do next?

#valsdelulucorner #obey me #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me x mc #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me fanart #obey me nightbringer #obey me mammon #obey me mammon x reader #obey me x you #obey me x y/n #obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me oneshot #obey me headcanons #obey me mammon x mc #obey me mammon x you #obey me boys #obey me fluff #omomtrta #om! mammon #om! mc #om! shall we date #obey me! #om! nightbringer

[sophieeeet]

Her Warmth, My Peace

<<<Pairing : Bf!Jay x Gf!FemReader

<<<Synopsis: As Soon as you came into Jay's life things weren't the way it used to be and He Loves that

<<<Genre: Nonidol!Jay x nonidol FemReader , Fluff, Tooth-roting fluff , Jay's in so much Love ( as well as reader) , Realisation of Love etc

Jay’s side of the bed wouldn't even be called Jay's anymore. you sleep there nearly every day, blaming it on how the pillows smell of him.

Jay’s clothes aren't his anymore, you're sleeping in his shorts and t-shirt tonight. you wore his shirt yesterday, and took his ties for some clothes experiments last week.

Jay’s sacred Guitars are no longer his own, he finds you on the floor as you try to make up a new Melodies out of it & Sometimes you just forgot to put them back at its place, leaving them on floor or table.

Jay's Love for Making food has Grown more as he made his mission to try out recipes that you picked out for him to make every weekend, Even though sometimes they don't turn out to be great you still devour his creation like it's not bland in taste only for Jay to practically steal the plate forcefully from you as it's not healthy to eat a Raw Steak as he settles for a take out while laughing at your pout

Jay’s mugs are now shared, always in the dishwasher even when he doesn't recall using them at all.

Jay’s thoughts don't belong just to him anymore. you'd bug him about it all day if he doesn't share what he's thinking so he, with an exasperated sigh while chuckling at your intrigued expression, tells you what's on his mind.

Jay’s salary doesn't go straight to his savings account like it used to, instead taking a portion of it to spend on you. 'you' means gifts, flowers, dates, Restaurants, trips, trinkets, and so on.

Jay’s weekends aren't as quiet as they once were; now they're chaotic, full of so much of you.

Jay’s fridge is full nowadays. candy, leftovers, ice cream, cheese, cake, bread, and the list goes on. so many things that don't go along with his diet fill the once-empty shelves.

Jay doesn't spend as much time in his study as before you moved in. now old books are left to collect dust, long forgotten in a room that's never lit. even when he decides to pick one up and read it, it's the minute that he sees your face the book is tossed away.

Jay's Happiness still comes from days off, but now it's because those days are spent with you. days when he slept long and ignores the world are long gone, now he gets to sit and focus on you, watching as everything else becomes nothing but background noise.

Jay has always been sure he's not looking for marriage, at least not right now. but he swears that ring looks so perfect for you. there's no way he'd miss it.

Jay stands in front of the bathroom mirror 5 minutes late every day because you're still figuring out how to fix his tie the right way without any help. he can't seem to rush you, though what's being precisely on time have on your little giggles as you sit on the sink and struggle to finish a task he could have done in under a minute?

Jay has been spending so much time eating as of late, more time than he can afford. while he used to finish a meal in approximately fifteen minutes, now dinners could stretch to two hours. he couldn't get off the table early when you sit across from him, talking and joking and doing anything that's not eating. he simply can't possibly not indulge in the little conversations, appreciating every moment he gets to spend in your presence.

Jay’s trip to his Parents house isn’t like before anymore as He’s grinning from ear to ear as he listens to your and his mother rant about something but he can’t seem to focus as his eyes stays on and his mother.

It isn’t like before when at dining table all his parents could ever talk about is You making Jay indulge in every conversation as he states what’s your like and dislike.

Jay’s life wouldn't even be called his anymore. you're a storm, invading his life all at once, bringing in your chaos along with you. you've infatuated him, you've assailed his senses and changed his very being. every time Jay’s eyes align with yours, he prays your presence isn't a fleeting one. he silently hopes you don't leave as suddenly as you came, that you plan to stay.

#park jeongseong #jay park #enha imagines #enha fluff #enha x reader #enhypen #enha #jake enhypen #jay enhypen #yang jungwon #lee heeseung #sim jaeyun #sunghoon #kim sunoo #niki #kpop #jay smut #jay smau #kpop smau #enhypen smut #enhypen smau

[waldau]

I cant insert a photo here on your ask but it goes something like

"Do whatever you want!!!" X said out of anger then character Y kissed him gently. "You said do whatever i want, right?"

whatever — choi seungcheol | 1,821 words | hurt/comfort, fluff

this prompt was really cute!!!

gender neutral reader. warnings: reader is stressed out? and in need of a hug?

you love the sounds that make the house you share with seungcheol your home.

you love hearing the door creak when you open it at that specific angle. you love the sound of the clock ticking in the living room that seungcheol himself picked out. you love the sound of him walking on the wooden floor of your house, the sound of his glass when it clinks against the marble of the kitchen island, the birds chirping in the evening when you take out time to just relax against him and watch the sun set, and the sound of his quiet snores when he insists he wants to watch you watch your favourite shows, only to end up falling asleep.

there’s none of that here, in this moment.

you take off your shoes and kick them to the side, not bothering to open the cabinet to put them inside because the doors make a particularly loud sound when they snap shut, and you don’t want to risk waking seungcheol up again.

it’s been an odd couple of weeks, with you staying out late because of more work and seungcheol staying in because his workload has been relatively less for the beginning of the new year. him being at home would’ve made you happy if you didn’t have to apologize for cancelling and rescheduling dates, or for being left with energy enough only for a bath and a quick dinner, movie plus cuddling sessions replaced by cuddling in your sleep. if you were lucky to get back home in time, that is.

you stop and listen for a few moments. there’s no sound to be heard. the door to your bedroom is shut, which means that seungcheol must have already gone to sleep.

a little pang of hurt stabs your heart. it’s not like you want him to keep late hours for you, but you’re not exactly doing well in these trying times, and you’d really love to have his voice wash out your worries.

a resounding bang from the kitchen startles you. before you can even think of the worst possible scenario that could’ve just transpired, seungcheol walks out of the kitchen, a rolling pin in one hand and some flour on his hair and his rolled up sleeves. the literal definition of a hot mess.

“hey, baby,” he says, eyes widening when he sees you. “i was expecting you to be back in an hour or two.”

so it’s that bad, huh? it’s become normal for him to expect you to come back even later? you focus on the stains on his clothes instead, and the rolling pin that seems so out of place in his hand. “what exactly are you doing?”

“nothing! well, nothing much. yet. maybe you should stay out of here for a while.”

one thing about seungcheol is that he never keeps secrets. he can’t tell you a white lie to save his life, much less a black lie. “cheol,” you say, frowning, “both of us know you don’t even cook. are you baking? and why’s there flour in your hair?”

“sieving accident,” he mumbles, so quiet that you almost don’t catch it.

“should i be afraid?” you ask, pinching the bridge of your nose. you feel like your tears are a short distance away, and you really, really hope he’s done nothing more. something tells you that isn’t it, however.

“not really!” says seungcheol, but you can read him like glass at this point. the little nervous laugh and the way his nose twitches when he tries spinning facts makes you dread what you’re going to find inside. “maybe you should have a nice bath before you sleep? did you have dinner yet?”

you try to move past him into the kitchen but he blocks the entrance with his broad frame. the one time this isn’t sexy.

“cheol, let me in.”

“not until you tell me the password.”

“there’s a password now? what, something like choi seungcheol is the best?”

he giggles. “close.”

you sigh. “cheol, i’m really not in the mood to play games right now. please tell me what’s going on in there?”

he tries pulling that face, the one with the puppy eyes, where he looks at you so pleadingly that you’re generally ready to fold and do whatever he asks of you, but right now it just doesn’t work on you. the more evasive he is, the more worried you get. before he can react, you duck under his outstretched arms and into the kitchen.

rather, into the mess he’s made of the kitchen.

you’ve heard stories about junhui trying to bake. they sounded absolutely hilarious, and you’ve always wondered how he could mess up so bad that he managed to land waffle batter on the ceiling. especially when he didn’t even own a ladder to try and clean it.

it’s not funny when it’s your house that has some batter on the walls. at least it’s not the ceiling, you think, a bit hysterical, until you see flour on the…everywhere. it’s just everywhere. the counter, near the sink, in front of the oven like it’s a modern day trail of breadcrumbs that hansel and gretel would’ve followed. there’s also baking supplies scattered all over, an extremely huge sheet of baking paper lining a tray that’s sitting next to a bunch of bowls.

it’s a mess, to say the least.

“i’m sorry,” seungcheol says, gently turning you away from the sight of it. he winces when he sees your face. you don’t even know what your face looks like. all you know is that you’re tired, that you need a break, and that the last thing you would have liked to see today was your boyfriend’s face while he was peacefully asleep, and not…this.

you shake your head but no words come out.

“i’m sorry,” seungcheol repeats, setting the rolling pin down on the counter. a comical little cloud of flour rises and settles. what kind of accident even was that? “i was just…trying to bake.”

“cheol, you didn’t even know why we use baking soda till last week!”

“hey!” he says, defensive. “i asked you so i could learn. and i know this isn’t great, but—” his words dry up when he notices where your gaze lies — on the batch of cookies that are burned beyond belief.

you can’t believe your eyes, either. you’re not the biggest baker in the world, but you’ve never burned anything you’ve baked. especially not in your first attempt. maybe you’d have given up the courage to bake again if that had happened, but seungcheol clearly isn’t that bothered by it.

you don’t know if it’s because of how pitiful they look, or how long your day has been, but you feel a lump rise in your throat.

“you never even do this,” you whisper, only focusing on his face and not the mess around you. “why did you think you had to do this today?”

“am i not allowed to try things if i want to?” he asks, crossing his arms.

“it’s not that, cheol,” you say, trying to be as reasonable as possible. “i’d ask you for some help before trying something i’ve never done before. you never, ever do this. only when i ask you to help me. why today?”

“because i wanted to,” he says, almost flippant. “i’ll clean it up before you know it.”

but it’s not about the mess. it’s not about the burnt cookies. it’s not about the way he tried to block you from seeing the state of the kitchen. it’s the finality in his tone. it’s the fact that it’s not a big deal to him because he hasn’t had the day you’ve had.

seungcheol’s eyes widen when he sees your lips tremble. “are you seriously mad at me? for baking?”

“do whatever you want,” you hiss, tired and angry, feeling a single tear slide down your cheek. “i shouldn’t have looked inside.” you turn to walk away before it becomes a full fledged cascade of tears, but you don’t go far because of the hand holding on to your wrist.

“stop,” he says, holding you strong enough that it becomes futile to try and escape.

“let me go, seungcheol,” you say, avoiding his face.

“oh, no,” he breathes out, and the next thing you know is that your face is cradled in his hands and there’s a warm kiss pressed to your forehead. and your nose. and your lips. and it keeps repeating till you push him away, your face in his hands. you can feel the ugly emotions inside you ebbing away slowly, reducing to small embers that prickle the slightest bit.

“what are you doing?” you ask weakly.

“you said do whatever i want, right?” he asks, a smile on his face.

that gets you to break, for some reason. you would’ve forgiven him even if he’d gotten batter on the ceiling, because this — the sight of seungcheol with flour in his otherwise perfect hair, wearing an old shirt and beaming at you even though you’ve snapped at him — kills even those small embers.

you press your face to his chest and let the tears out silently.

seungcheol rubs your back. “hey,” he says softly. “let it out, okay? and i’m sorry about the mess. i meant it when i said i’ll clean—”

“it’s not that,” you whisper. “just…hold me?”

seungcheol complies, and you find yourself swaying in his hold in the silence of your house.

“want to talk to me about it?” he offers when you pull away, feeling slightly better. “i’m—”

“stop apologizing to me, cheol,” you say, laughing a little wetly. “it’s not the kitchen. i’ve just…i’ve been missing you like crazy and i miss just being with you without doing anything. i hate coming home late and seeing you asleep by yourself in our bed. i want…i want things to go back to the way they were.”

“so, a bad week?”

“more than one.”

“but you have me here at the end of every single day, right?” seungcheol says, pushing up the corners of your lips to make you smile. you do smile, but it’s because of the cute grin he has on his face. “we’ll get through it before you know it.”

you sigh. “it sounds good when you say it like that.”

“because i mean it. also, one more thing.”

“yeah?”

“please don’t ever call me by my whole name again.”

“only if you mess up the kitchen that bad again.”

“hey!”

“also, why were you baking in the first place?”

“because i wanted to cheer you up,” he says, sheepish, and you want to do nothing more than hold his face and kiss him silly.

“you’re an idiot, baby,” you say, cradling his face in your hands. “but you’re my idiot. and i love you.”

seungcheol’s blushing face is quite possibly enough to get you through tomorrow.

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae @viewvuu

#alternative title: everything everywhere flour at once #scoups #scoups fluff #seungcheol #choi seungcheol #choi seungcheol fluff #seventeen #seventeen fluff #svt #svt fluff #fluff #coups #waldau writes #req

[vnards]

Mafia141 p.4

The boys react quickly, like they’re trained to do. You don't.

Ghost is able to tackle you to the ground before bullets start flying through the windows.

The sound of gunfire and glass shatters the peace, a familiar ringing to everyone but you. One moment you're focused on not spilling anything, now, with the mugs shattered on the floor, a heavy weight on top of you, and loud shots piercing in the air, you felt like you couldn't breathe.

The bullets seemed endless, embedding themselves in the walls and booths. Another body covered you, keeping your face pressed to the floor. There was crying. It’s coming from you.

After what felt like minutes, the shooting stopped.

Silence followed.

“Sit rep.”

The body above you finally lets you lift your head. You look around to see the diner in carnage. The plush in the booths were torn and shredded, some of the stuffing still hovering in the air. Everything glass on the counter were shattered. The cold wind came in through the broken windows.

“Good here.” A voice broke through the ringing in your ears.

“Johnny?”

“A'm right here.” He grumbled. There was a string of words that sounded like cursing.

Your heart is still pounding like a mallet as the boys around you began to get up.

You were being moved before you could even realize it. You were being lifted in the air and back on your feet like you weighed nothing before you could get your bearings. Simon’s eyes scanned you over as you were finally able to start moving your tongue again “W-what-“

“Gaz, secure the perimeter.” Movement followed his orders,  one of your “customers” move to Simon's order. Your confusion is hard to hide. “Go get your stuff. We’re leaving.” You look around at the two remaining men left in the diner; Simon, his hand on your back, keeping you steady and Johnny, the Scottish man with a Mohawk and his white dress shirt bleeding across his peck.

“You’re hurt.”

Both men looked to where you pointed, Johnny grumbled under his breath, “Fuckers ruined my new shirt.” He poked at the blood, some coming off his hand as he examined it.

Something about seeing him bleeding shocks you back to life, “T-the first aid kit is in the back. I can-" you move to go retrieve it.

Johnny caresses your shoulder “It’s alright, little bird, it’s just a scratch. I’ll be fine.” The vibrant blue in his eyes holds a boyish joy to them. “But I’ll never say no to you.” He winks.

The sudden flirtatious attitude from Johnny was whiplash compared to the carnage that surrounded you. “Not now, Johnny.” Simon scolded. It didn’t look like Johnny was sorry, “I gotta tell Price the meeting’s a bust.” He slides his phone out, trying how to not pissed the boss of about this. “Make sure she gets her stuff.” He was at least going to grant you that before bringing you into the mess that is tonight.

Johnny salutes, trying to break under the primal fear of the past few minutes that consumes you into being paralyzed in the moment. With Ghost and Gaz gone, it’s up to Johnny to keep you calm enough to not go into shock. His chest puffs up a bit, being given the opportunity to keep you safe and calm, but it’s not the time. “Actually, birdie,” Your eyes finally meet his, “I could use that first aid kit. Could you get it for me?”

A task. Something to help you move forward. You nod soundlessly and gave yourself a moment to calm your shaking hands, your barely controlled breathing.

First aid kit.

You enter the back of the room and head to the office where your stuff is. You’re mind is still a blank with static before you have a chance to realize you’re not alone.

Another weight, this time less gentle, slams you against the frozen storage and pins you there. The wind is knocked out of you as a body twice the size of you, unable to scream or cry in pain. “No one mentioned there would be a reward.” The stranger leered.

You try to speak again, but there’s a third body knocked into you. Your head is slammed against the door and everything hurts. You fall to the floor, no longer pinned against the cold door. Regardless, the world still spins.

You hear a struggle and the few moments of clarity you can get shows that Johnny is grappling with on the floor outside the office, his opponent in a headlock. The other man throws an elbow that connects and his grip falters, allowing him to get the upper hand.

The strange man swings again, this time an elbow to Johnny’s nose knocks off his balance, “You fucker!” He growls.

The larger man is able to tower over Johnny, taunting. You are so paralyzed in fear when you spot the shine of a barrel coming out.

A shot rings out. There’s yelling

When you open your eyes again,  the body that was towering over Soap was toppling over, dead weight. The blood pouring out of the hole in his skull a shocking horror to you. You finally start to scream.

The darker skinned man came forward in your field of view, “You’re okay, princess, you don’t need to be scared.” Too late. You slip out of consciousness.

masterlist

#simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #john price #kyle gaz garrick #cod #mafia!au #mafia!141 #poly 141 #mafia x reader

[munsonsreputation]

hii! omg so i rlly love your writing its incredible. i have two requests but you can choose whichever one! the first one is an imagine w steve and the reader based off of call it what you want by taylor. orr a hurt/comfort imagine where the reader is basically comforting steve maybe aft he’s had a fight w his parents or something? again i rlly love your writing literally look forward for new writeups all the time!

at least we did one thing right

a/n: this one has been sitting in my inbox since forever and i managed to stir up this cute little thing. ciwyw is one of my favorite tracks of reputation and i can't wait to get the re-recording of this (hopefully soon!!!)

The party was in full swing, and by party you meant all of your close friends who are gathered in Steve’s living room and kitchen entertaining themselves while you and Steve hid away in his backyard like a routine.

His gaze flickered through the sliding doors, mock concern etched on his features as he mutters under his breath, “I swear to god, they better not pick the pineapple off the other slices.”

You turned your head to see what he was going on about, and sure enough the teenage boys were ravaging the kitchen like they hadn’t eaten in days. At this rate, they were like bottomless pits, and you weren’t quite sure how they were able to put away a portion of food without blinking.

Still, you snorted, swatting a hand over his thigh and garnering his attention back to you.

“They’re growing boys and their appetites are different from when they were twelve. We can order another if they’re still hungry.” You shrugged.

He shook his head, shifting to pull your legs over and across his lap.

“I ordered pineapple for you, and you should at least get to have one slice of it.” Steve insisted, though your orbs were too clouded with heart eyes to see the irritation he wore for the innocently selfish boys.

You pursed your lips into a tight smile, hooking your arm over his bicep, tugging yourself closer to him, “You’re so cute for someone who hogs all the blankets at night.”

He looked down at you, shaking his head with a mushy smile coming over him, “Hey you’re the one who likes the house freezing!”

Steve rumbles a string of laughter into the air, using his free arm that’s not being clung onto, to drape over your frame, practically wrenching your whole body onto his as you begin joining in the amusement. You give up on trying to get the upper-hand, letting yourself sit comfortably in his lap, your joined hands resting on either side of your bodies and you lean down to lay your head on his chest.

You snuggled deeper into the fabric of his shirt, inhaling the lingering scent of his cologne. It’s a simple pleasure of yours to be wrapped up in his arms, high above the whole scene, in your own little world like nothing else mattered.

“You’re my portable space heater, got all the warmth I need,” you declared, pressing kind kisses over his chest feeling his lips brush over your hairline.

Steve thought he must have done something right in this lifetime in order to give himself to you in a way he hadn’t given anyone else before. He doesn’t care that it’s simply you two sneaking away just to act like corny teenagers again. All of that fades into nothing when you look at him the way you do.

But before you could savor the moment, a familiar voice interrupted from above, followed by the squeak of rusty wheels gliding across the frame.

“Are you guys having fun out here without us!” Robin shouted, ringing out closer as she approached you both, but of course not without the presence of Eddie by her side.

You sat up, laughing, while Steve groaned and craned his neck to greet them. “You guys have to stop sneaking off to do whatever this is,” Eddie teased, gesturing between you both with a lighthearted smirk.

Steve grunted, “You’re just mad you don’t have a girlfriend to love on,” he shot back, pulling you down by the wrists to meet his lips in a messy kiss that left you giggling.

Eddie feigned revulsion and quickly retreated back inside, while Robin settled beside your bodies, her eyes twinkling with affection. “I still think you guys are adorable, even though this sneaking off thing is getting old.”

Robin had always been rooting for the two of you — there was just something about you both that made perfect sense, and when you finally bit the bullet, it was safe to say she was celebratory about the whole thing.

“We just don’t want to bore you guys with our public displays of affection,” you teased, sharing a knowing smile with Robin who threw her head back and laughed at all the times your friends would scold you both to cut out the lovey dovey acts.

Steve interjected, “Last time we cuddled on the couch you kicked us out of movie night…in my house!”

Robin rolled her eyes, pointing an accusing finger at him. “That’s because we could all smell the sexual tension between you guys. Seriously, just get it out of your systems before we get here.”

You slapped your hands over your flushed face, groaning behind them, “Noted. We’ll remember that for next time.” You promised, shaking your head.

Steve couldn’t contain his laughter, his eyes crinkling as he turned to his best friend with a pleading look. “Now, can you please leave and let me make out with my girlfriend in peace?”

She rose up out of the lounger with a grin, “If there’s one thing you guys did right, it’s each other… and I don’t mean sex!” With that she disappeared back inside, leaving you both to yourselves.

Steve gently pulled your hands away from your face, his soft smiling easing away any idling embarrassment that you knew was all in good fun. He brought your hands closer to his lips, spreading kisses across your knuckles that made your stomach flip with warmth.

“Well, at least did one thing right,” He murmured, raising his brows up at you as you blushed and nodded.

“We sure did.” You whispered, before cupping his cheeks and bringing yourself down to him.

Your eyes fluttered shut, closing the distance between your lips, fitting themselves together like a daydream. The jokers and the drama queens could take all the swings and call it whatever they wanted to — as long as you and Steve knew it was love.

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌

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[scoonsalicious]

Lily

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntire, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language,

Word Count: 413

A/N: Please accept this little preview nugget.

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Best friends to Lovers. Lily McIntyre couldn’t think of a single thing more romantic than that. She’d spent her entire life searching for that one person who would transcend the bonds of friendship into something so much more, and for years, she’d been left wanting. So many friendships left to flounder when the necessary spark failed to materialize, so many seemingly perfect connections ruined because she wanted more than any of these so-called “best” friends could give. It felt unfair. It felt cruel. It felt hopeless.

Until.

Lily remembered the day like it were yesterday, forever seared into her memory as though it had been branded there, and it in a way, it had been, because the moment she met Bucky Barnes had become an indelible part of her, a core moment in the creation of the perfect life she desired– no, deserved to have.

It was warm for late March, the birdsong thick in the air as she ran a batch of new SHIELD recruits through their drills on the outside training track of the new Avengers’ Compound in Upstate New York. She hadn’t been thrilled with Tony Stark when he’d insisted on moving the operation out of the city proper, but she had to admit, being away from the congestion of the metropolis ended up having its perks. Besides, the city was still close enough to enjoy all the amenities it had to offer.

She’d just sent her group off to do sprints when she saw Captain America, himself, approach her, followed by a stranger she’d never seen before. 

She was immediately struck by how gorgeous he was– chiseled jaw, piercing blue eyes, shy, timid smile. Perfection, she thought, as Captain Rogers introduced the man as his best friend, James “Bucky” Barnes. 

“Lily runs the training program for new SHIELD recruits,” the Captain was saying. Lily found she could only nod and smile as Steve explained the training program, so transfixed was she by this handsome new stranger. Bucky listened with polite interested, then said something about wanting to go check out the obstacle course, and as he walked away, the Captain leaned toward Lily and spoke softly, so as not to be overheard.

“Buck’s going to be joining us in the Compound. Aside from me, he hasn’t really got any other friends, so, you think you could help make him feel at home? Maybe try to be his friend?”

“It would be an honor, Captain,” Lily agreed, smiling. Absolute perfection.

Next Part ->

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