#they clearly care about each other so much ^_^<3<3<3

[hon3y-y]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ roommate!sukuna just can’t get enough of you…

sukuna finds his perverted roommate getting fucked and can’t look away

cw: voyeurism, pervy reader & sukuna, (ft satoru), masturbation (m&f), light overstimulation(m), Non curse AU

masterlist

enjoy<3

roommate! Sukuna knows you touch yourself when he has girls over, so he makes sure to make it extra loud, having the girls basically sobbing on his cock. Meanwhile, you pathetically listen through the walls separating your rooms, hand lowered into your panties, trying to stay quiet.

You listen to the whiny mess he turns all of his hookups into, hearing the clapping of skin on skin and babbling that the girl spews, clearly drunk on pleasure. roommate! Sukuna goes for so long, and you listen to every second like a pervert. You hear every word he spits and imagine it’s you who he’s calling ‘good girl’ or ‘pretty whore’, cumming as many times around your wet fingers as you can.

Of course, roommate! Sukuna didn’t always know about his little perverted roommate. That was, until you came home one night, absolutely plastered, stumbling onto nearly every surface from barely being able to hold yourself up. As Ryo tried to help you across the apartment, you confessed your dirty secret, staring up at him with tears about how ashamed you felt, begging him for forgiveness.

Meanwhile, he was throbbing in his pants at the thought of his cute roomie desperately trying to get off because she was just too scared to ask him to fuck her stupid. he could imagine it, the way you would hopelessly hump your fingers, knowing it’ll never feel like him. the image made his ego swell. All he did was pat your head and tuck you in, and the next morning, acted as if nothing happened. not that you even realized, the end of the night still blacked out from your memory.

You decide that enough is enough, feeling ashamed by how your lack of sexual activities is being forced on your unsuspecting (👀) roommate. That’s what got you into this position:  meeting some random guy in the club and bringing him home, hoping that maybe by getting a good fuck, you’ll stop your perversion.

You and your date's moves are frantic, practically ripping off each other's clothes and desperately grinding on each other for some sort of friction. You end up in your room, articles of clothing scattered across the apartment that you didn’t care about, too busy with your head buried into the pillow as your date, whose name you learned is Satoru, licked your pussy like a lollipop, moaning like it was the sweetest candy he’s ever tasted. 

Roommate! Sukuna had been sleeping when he woke up to a thud on the wall connecting your rooms. It was a light thud, usually something he’d ignore and go back to sleep, but then it was a constant creak, followed by the sounds of your whimpers. At first, he thought you were up by yourself, trying to get off while he was sleeping, until the deep voice of a man groaned, “Fuck—take it, baby—such a good fuckin’ girl" 

Ryo nearly jumped out of bed. In the year you two have been roommates, you never invited anyone over; it was only him who would have random hookups. This was new. and as much as it was pissing him off, the bulge in his pants made the situation a little more complicated. That’s how he found himself outside your room, peering into the cracked door to watch you take another man’s dick.

You looked like you were in ecstasy—the way your hands gripped the sheets and your toes curled, the pitched whines of “yes, don’t stop—please satoru~” His hand automatically moved to palm his cock, watching as this man, Satoru, forced you deeper into the sheets, pounding into your pussy. Besides the noises that escaped your mouth, he could hear the squelch every time he plunged into your sopping cunt, making Ryo’s mouth water at how wet you must be. It almost made him angry. That was his neglected pussy, and here this guy was enjoying it. 

Still, he couldn’t deny how hot you looked. Sukuna’s body was on fire, and he moved to stroke his aching cock while picturing it as him. It was him plugging up that sweet pussy and making you cream around his cock, fucking you until you were a mess of tears and cum, leaving you shaking and unable to walk. His knees became weaker, gripping onto the walls to stroke his cock faster, and he ran his fingers over his sensitive tip, making his jaw drop.

roommate! Sukuna came all over his fingers, having to rush his hand to his mouth to stop the groan he desperately wanted to let out. His body racked and shuttered with pleasure, painting himself in his own cum. He couldn’t stop, though; Satoru had flipped you over, and now he could see the look on your face.

You looked so fucked out, panting and spreading your legs because you needed to be fucked so bad. The slight scrunch in your brow made him feral, working past the overstimulation and using his own release as lube to keep going. it was messy and completely unlike himself, but the sight of you cumming was addicting.

roommate! Sukuna, who is left quietly panting outside your door, still messy from his own cum, and still desperately horny.

roommate! Sukuna, who is officially waving the white flag in this stupid game he’s had going on, you’re his, and no one-night stand is taking that away.

a/n: hiiii<3 i’ve been super busy bc this semester KICKED MY ASS but it’s ending 🙏 so i might write more, we’ll see😵‍💫 also, i have seen requests and will hopefully upload some soon? no promises though but i’ll try! :)))

#jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #chubby reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #jjk sukuna smut #sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna #gojo saturo #gojou satoru x you #jjk sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fluff #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna smut #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna x reader #jjk sukuna #jujutsu satoru #chubby

[steveharrington]

major hornets nest moment here but i must speak my truth. its so fascinating to me how will byers was clearly written with the driving motivation and intention of making him a beloved fan favorite character and instead he falls so flat that, if you asked the average casual viewer of the show who doesn't engage in the fandom like, say, your coworker, the odds of him even being in their top five of favorite characters is pretty low.

will's disappearance kicks off the plot, singlehandedly. the first episode is literally called the vanishing of will byers. his name is shouted so much in the first season that most people would recognize the reference if you used the right cadence and desperation that winona ryder does. after not being featured much in season one, you'd think season two would've just like launched will/noah schnapp into stardom with how much more screentime he's given and how dramatic his plot is that season. but instead the fan favorites of season 2 were by and large el, hopper, dustin, steve, max, even bob who's barely there. that's not to say that there AREN'T will fans out there (and online i understand there are like entire armies dedicated to him/byler, but i'm talking about the average opinion of viewers as a whole, not just in fandom spaces) but think about all the stranger things merch you see in stores, the halloween costumes, the characters that appear in promotional materials when the show has partnerships with brands....will is so rarely featured. idk if any of yall ever got the chance to visit the stranger things pop up shop in any of its various locations, but there was such little mention of will in the stores theming or merchandise that it was almost funny. actually it WAS funny, to me, someone who does not care for him

i think the flop can be attributed to many things. one, noah schnapp is just not a very good actor and he doesn't have the same appeal in his performances that millie, sadie, caleb, gaten, priah, or finn do (although finn i've noticed is also kinda falling out of favor from majority audiences). one could argue that noah schnapp intentionally isn't given much to do, which is true and i'll circle back to that, but the decline in his acting between seasons 2 and 3 is truly a sight to behold. when he's not like tied up and screaming, he reallllllly struggles on the smaller scale performances compared to the other cast members his age. he doesn't really have the charm that gaten does or the humor that priah does or the depth that caleb does. (i don’t feel bad about saying this, btw, given noah schnapp’s behavior)

back to the vanishing of will byer's screen time. my beloved prettymuchit's eric striffler commented on how diminished will and mike's roles in the story have become in s4. "noah schnapp is below the grips on the call sheet" is my fav line, but he also makes an observation on finn's role that i think is soooo accurate. when mike and will are kneeling down next to the pizza dough freezer and watching el just kinda twitch while she fights vecna in her mind, eric and his co-host miles say "this is so embarrassing! finn's like, 'oh so gaten's fighting the monster? and i'm kneeling next to a tub at a pizza place? i used to be this show" and i think the same exact sentiment can be superimposed onto will

but i think this happened naturally, as the nature of the show is to shift its focus from character to character. not to mention the duffer brothers' obsession with tweaking their story to give audiences what they want. i've always held the belief that there isn't one main character of stranger things, rather a rotating circle of characters depending on the season you're watching. season one is mike, season two is hopper, season three is el, season four is max imo. again that's a little subjective and arguments could be made to swap those a little, but overall i think those characters stories and point of views take center stage during each of their respective seasons. by season 3, the duffers wanted to kick things up to a larger scale. the UD is no longer targeting just will, it's targeting the entire town. this works because a THIRD season in a row where this one kid specifically gets possessed would just be bonkers, so they kinda had to let him take a backseat. i'm not sure why they didn't let will be more involved in the mystery-solving portion of season 3....to this day that decision baffles me, but what's done is done and the will that everyone watched in season 3 literally just kinda follows everyone around and gets a small little slice of a plotline about wanting things to go back to normal, but alas

it like totally worked, though. though there are MANY complaints commonly made about season 3, i've never heard anyone offline complain that there wasn't enough will byers. i think the group in s3 that had the most success like, commercially, would be scoops troop and then a bit farther back i think most audiences enjoyed hopper/joyce/murray's dynamic. i think if there had been a huge outcry in the minimizing of will's role, the duffers would've backpedaled immediately. they aim to please. they can't even commit to killing of a main character out of fear that audiences will lose interest if we permanently lose hopper or max, so they just do some creative writing that allows them to milk the emotional consequence of those characters deaths without actually writing them off. if audiences on a large scale demanded that will be center stage, he would be. but they dont!

final point: i think will gets fucked over by the duffers obsession with romance. in season one, two of will's strongest dynamics are with his mom and brother. which like, yeah. theyre his immediately family and he is 12. but in seasons 2 and 3, jonathan spent all his screen time with nancy and from 2-4, joyce has spent all her screen time either with hopper or in the pursuit of finding hopper. these characters are written together as a package deal, typically. it was refreshing and unexpected to see jonathan get a whole season with a friend of his very own and his siblings, but they barely took advantage of that. jonathan and will get ummmm one (1) scene to talk about their emotions in a fucking 20 hour season. it's hard for will to be a main character when he rarely gets to interact with the people that make up the other half of his main dynamics.

as for byler, im of the belief that it will not be endgame because i just don't think they're going to break up mike and el at this point. i could be completely wrong and stand corrected, but im like 90% sure lol. i do think that will's s4 storyline resonated with a lot of people. even eric striffler! i think the issue is that the vastttt majority of people who watch this show above the age of like 15 do not feel invested about the romantic relationships between any of the kids. because why would they!!! theyre literally in middle school for 3/4 of the show. you would be hard pressed to find a vocal will stan online who doesn't also dedicate 90% of their engagement with the show to byler. which makes sense, because most if not all of will's scenes revolve around mike to some degree. but according to neilsen, the majority of stranger things audience is consistently in the 18-49 age range season by season. its more likely for adult audiences to identify with adults (or characters who are narratively treated like adults, like steve and nancy) than with any of the kids. esp when the kid in question, despite being written as the focal point of the show, has less relevant plotlines, less interaction with other characters, and an actor who just doesn't deliver on charm the way his fellow younger costars do

#two ppl asked for it in the inbox so voila

[fallenclan]

RAVENSTAR’S APOLOGY

A fic by buttercup-unlimited :3

Author’s note: Here’s me drabbling for a while. Sorry if I get any lore/pronouns wrong, I’m trying my hardest but I am very tired 😭

The cave was vast and looming, the cracked rock face seeming to climb endlessly into the inky blackness above. A single word could echo dozens of times around these walls, spreading like a whispered rumour into the ear of another. The air hung heavy with bitter cold and silence, spare the eerie rustling of shrubbery from the clearing and the occasional warning call of a nearby bird.

Leaders of Fallenclan’s past only ever tended to use part of the intimidating space as a sleeping den, preferring to make their nests in a smaller corner and keep warmth in for as long as they could. Goldenstar infamously allowed kits to play in the space he left unused, simply stating that whatever was his, was the clan’s. Even Maplestar picked merely a decent chasm to curl up into, never needing anything more. Every leader that had come before, in fact, hadn’t dared to flaunt such a cathedral all for themselves.

But Ravenstar was nothing like the leaders that had come before. No, he was stronger. Smarter. Shrewder. Grander. The day that he had received his nine lives, Ravenstar had returned to camp to make a very deliberate show of slowly building his nest, twig by twig, in the very centre of the den. A statement, if you will, the marking of what was very clearly now his territory. His eyes had glowed in a strange sort of way that day. Forebodingly. If you looked close enough, you just might have seen the rush of power going straight to Ravenstar’s head. Leadership had that effect on some cats.

Littleleaf had been there. Every day, since they were born, Littleleaf had been by Ravenstar’s side. He had watched him through his apprenticeship, arguing with his mentor at even the most trivial of things. Older cats would often say that he was a strong-willed fellow, well suited for a powerful position one day. If only they had known who he would become.

Ravenstar had lost everything except Littleleaf. The two brothers were the only thing tying one another to reality, saving each other from fluttering away in the breeze—like a leaf under a rock, safe…and yet stifled.

“Ravenstar?”

Even the name bore a sense of importance, of tension. Littleleaf regretted the call as soon as he had uttered it, not helped by the constant repeat of his word as it travelled up the gossiping walls of the cave. He felt so small, so insignificant, in this place. Something about its legacy was an all-too-cruel reminder of the fleeting nature of existence—Littleleaf almost felt as if he could drop dead right there, on the ground, and it would only be a flashing moment in time.

He took a few tentative steps forward, careful not too make too much noise on the cold stone floor. Most of the den was hidden in shadow, daring any cat who wasn’t Ravenstar to even attempt to venture further.

“Do you have any time to talk? I have some news…” Littleleaf tried again, cringing at how easy it was to boom in these chambers.

“News? This should be interesting.” A voice drawled from behind him, causing Littleleaf to flinch as he turned. Ravenstar had perched himself on a jutted-out rock somewhere high up the wall, his tail tucked neatly over his paws as he observed.

“Oh, hello. You frightened me, brother.” Littleleaf chuckled nervously. Something about their relationship, usually so close and easy, had felt strained as of recently. It was no longer so easy to approach Ravenstar.

The Fallenclan leader smiled, eyes glinting maliciously. His black pelt blended in perfectly with the shadows of the rock face, almost like they had belonged here all along. This was Ravenstar’s home now, and there could be no dispute about that.

“Sincerest apologies. I’m waiting…?” The leader mewed coolly. It was clear that he had no time for small talk, not even with his kin.

“Right. Of course. Well, we weren’t sure when to tell you, but…here we go.” Littleleaf took a deep breath. It was awkward, trying to give news to someone several feet above you. “Moorthistle is expecting kits. You’re going to be an uncle.”

Boom.

A million thoughts seemed to rush through Ravenstar’s head all at once. The coolly composed tomcat, usually so calm and purposeful in his mannerisms, seemed to struggle to maintain his balance from his vantage point as he took in the news. His facade flickered, just enough for Littleleaf to notice, and for a second or two Ravenstar was just a confused young tom again.

“Kits.” Ravenstar repeated, bright eyes darting to just about every corner of the den. “Kits, belonging to you and to Moorthistle. In Fallenclan.”

Littleleaf nodded distractedly, craning his neck to get a better look at his brother. “Yes, I…are you alright, Ravenstar? You look rather shocked.”

Ravenstar seemed to snap back to attention all of a sudden, jolted back to life by the attention of his brother, momentary crisis over as soon as it had began. He straightened his neck, focused his gaze and gave his chest a few calming licks, whispering something inaudible to himself.

“Yes.” Ravenstar eventually replied, keeping his answers concise and dry—he was back to normal, indeed. “I’m fine thank you, brother. I was taken by surprise, is all.”

Littleleaf nodded. “Alright, then.”

There seemed to be eons of silence between the brothers, both unsure of what to say next. When did it become so hard to conversate?

It was only when Littleleaf seemed to be on the verge of turning and leaving that Ravenstar spoke again, blurting words in a hurry as if in an attempt to make him stay.

“This is very good news, Littleleaf.” He mewed loudly. “More kin for you and I. More kits for Fallenclan. I’m sure…I’m sure that they will grow up to be fine warriors. May Starclan bless you.”

Littleleaf knew the words were intended for comfort, but all he could find within himself to feel was hurt. Why was his brother, so high and mighty now on his pretentious throne of rock, speaking to him as if he were any other old aquaintance?

“Why do you hold me so far from your heart, brother?” Littleleaf asked before he could stop himself. He wished that he had stayed silent, seeing Ravenstar’s false smile drop. The last thing he needed for himself and Moorthistle was tension with the leader of their clan.

Ravenstar narrowed his glowing eyes, looking bemused at best. “What exactly do you mean?”

Littleleaf shook his head, suddenly feeling very warm under the roasting heat of Ravenstar’s gaze. “I didn’t mean anything. I was just thinking out loud, really, don’t listen to me…”

Ravenstar did not look convinced. As if deciding something to himself, the sleek black tom began to leap nimbly down to meet his brother on the cave floor. Was he going to berate him? Banish him? …Hug him? Littleleaf wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.

They stood face to face for the first time in what felt like moons. Equal, it appeared, if only for a moment in time. Littleleaf often forgot that he was larger than his brother—because, in so many other ways, he was not.

“I…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.” Littleleaf apologised, trying to back out of the hole he had dug himself into. He had never believed Ravenstar guilty of the crimes some suggested he had committed, but he didn’t intend on finding out if the accusations were truthful tonight.

“No. I’m the one who should apologise.” Ravenstar insisted suddenly, taking Littleleaf by surprise. “I… am sorry, brother. “

Littleleaf practically sputtered. This was the first time he had ever been apologised to by his brother, and most probably the last. He felt that the occasion should become an annual celebration.

“I know I have been distant, as of late. Partly because of my new duties, but also…” Ravenstar let out a laboured sigh, full of tension and grief that Littleleaf didn’t even know he possessed. “I care very much for you. More than you know. But it’s difficult for me. I see so much of them…in you.”

Littleleaf didn’t need to ask who his brother was referring to. “I see them, too. Everywhere.” He half-whispered.

Ravenstar held up a tail to silence his brother—an old leader tactic used to indicate that he was not yet finished saying his peace.

“I wanted to protect you. Show you how strong I could be on my own. I wanted to be the best I could be for you, Littleleaf. I am sorry if this meant sacrificing the time we used to spend together.” Ravenstar confessed. It was clearly difficult for the leader to talk about his feelings for such a prolonged period of time.

Littleleaf stroked his tail along his brother’s back comfortingly, the way he had when they were kits. “Thank you.” He murmured.

Ravenstar inclined his head. “I am happy for you, Littleleaf. You will make a great father. And perhaps…perhaps I will make a great uncle.”

Littleleaf wasn’t sure what to say. Was there anything he could say?

Perhaps, in this fleeting moment in time, all Ravenstar needed was a shoulder to lean on.

(Beetle note: THIS IS SO GOOD!!!! i love the exploration of Raven and Little's relationship,,, its so awesome)

#submission #fallenfic #buttercup-unlimited

[prince-liest]

ok hi this is the anon whos phone autofills ur url!! i think i opened the floodgates w that ask bc now ive got the guts to actually ramble at u abt ur writing bc. oh my GOD. ur radiostatic fics have rewired my fucking brain chemistry, dude. im someone who doesnt exactly care for alastor UNLESS u write him. u make him just so fascinating and fun to read - i think u could write a fic of him brushing his stupid fuckass bob n id be enraptured. its also SO insane how clearly ur medical degree shines through whenever u let him disembowel alastor, i adore it sm. im so excited for the next chapters of literally everything u write!! i hope u have a great week im obsessed w ur work n ur aquarium ok bye

Ayyy, be free and interact, hahaha! Tumblr is always best when folks feel free to chatter with each other, so I'm celebrating the opening of these floodgates. <3

And thank you so much, ehehe. I love Alastor immensely as a character, whether I'm writing from his point of view or from an outsider's, so I'm absolutely pleased that my enjoyment of him has seeped out and infected you like some kind of fictional mold in your walls. He's got a lot going on between those fuzzy ears of his, and most of it is, like, deeply unwell.

The funny thing about the medical degree is that there are definitely moments (like the disembowelment) where I know it shines through, but I've also had people absolutely clock me on it during times when I just include things as a matter of my own baseline knowledge that I forget most people don't actually think about basically ever, so I've absolutely hit the point of that one xkcd comic, haha. I do try to make it fun to read, though, so I'm glad you enjoy it!

That said, if I had to pick one fic not written by me that I think has an absolutely phenomenal Alastor, can I recommend oleanders in june by @cringefailvox? I still randomly think about that one sometimes.

#ask #personal #autofill anon #t #fic rec #hazbin hotel

[drama-glob]

This part is just so sweet and wholesome! ^_^<3<3<3 Just that adorable smile from Fizz when Blitzo believes he'll achieve his dream.<3<3<3

#fizzarolli #fizzarolli helluva boss #helluva fizzarolli #helluva boss fizzarolli #blitz #blitzo #blitzø #blitz helluva boss #helluva blitz #helluva boss blitz #fizzblitz #blitzarolli #helluva boss #vivziepop #<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3 #mammon's magnificent musical #gif #they're just so cute! #best friends #noogie #^_^ #whole #they clearly care about each other so much ^_^<3<3<3

[ctl-yuejie]

"It will just end how it started"

#only friends the series #only friends #ofts #neo trai #mark pakin #i am living for them #glad nick found out in ep 3 and we have now a bunch of episodes of them just making everything worse for each other #nick really worked so hard on keeping boston i want to hug him #his proud smile after jerking boston off ;A; #and he tries to voice when he is uncomfortable and at the same time already realizes that boston is very much not on the same page #and my boy is already escelating listening in on the car sex #possible intended the bug for other reasons but baby - do not put yourself through hearing the whole thing in stereo....you could already #see them from the outside #have to had it to boston: he really nearly doesn't care at all about getting seen #p'jojo getting in his tweet <3 #it is very telling that nick clearly knows who boston is but in his mind their encounters are just a tad more romantic with a focus on the #kissing they are doing and not so much the sex itself #fyi: i saved these gif files under the ship name 'tonnic'

[chuluoyi]

✎ protect

- gojo satoru x reader

the word “protect” now means so much more to him

genre: soft and playful gojo, sugary dump fluff, pregnant!reader

note: anyone craving some soft gojo? :3 based on a suggestion by an anon who needs a soft gojo a while back, thank you!

a part of gojo's love entries

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

When he was 16, Gojo Satoru thought that protecting other people was a pain, and didn't take it seriously.

Later, when he realized that even non-sorcerers deserve to live their lives in peace, he dedicated himself to becoming stronger so that he would be capable to protect them more. However, even then, he didn't perceive their worth as significant.

But when you entered the picture, that measly, glorified word suddenly became so much more.

Usually people would only care about whether he had succeeded his mission or not. His formidable reputation as the epitome of strength means no one is genuinely interested in his wellbeing—no one after Suguru, to be exact—until you did.

After a whirlwind romance of attraction and banters, Satoru reached the conclusion that he wanted you, the only person left who actually made him feel like a human, to stay happy and safe. He would do it with his own hands, even if it meant reshaping this cruel world to be kinder for you with him as your shield.

And the word “protect” gained an entirely new meaning years later, when he rested his head on your swollen belly—the place where his new cherished treasure was growing.

“When will he come out~?” he asked in a whiny tone and a blissful smile, even though he clearly knew the answer.

You shook your head with playful resignation, unable to conceal your smile. "In three weeks. Now help me get comfortable, you dork."

He helped you turn over and fetched a pillow to place under your aching spine. Then, with a mischievous grin, he lightly poked your belly with two fingers, eliciting a yelp from you.

"Don't poke me! You're poking your child!"

To that, Satoru merely threw his head back and snickered like the dumbass he was. He then tenderly rested his hand on the taut skin of your belly, gently massaging it, smiling with ardent happiness.

"Can't really believe it," he sighed, brimming with the purest sense of contentment. "A mini Gojo, huh... You're really doing a honorable work."

A child of his and yours. He had always wondered how he would be after seeing him firsthand—would he laugh just like he had been doing now, or will it be the first instance that move him to the point of shedding tears? One of the reasons he eagerly anticipated his son's birth was just to discover how he would react.

Seeing the weight of his baby growing within you, making you rounder and fuller, stirred a deep well of warm emotions in him with each passing day though.

"I am," you retorted cheekily, rolling your eyes. "In fact, you should be revering and worshipping me for carrying your spawn."

He merely hummed in a childlike manner, feeling his baby move around under his touch. You were about to roast him again with something funny when he leaned down and planted a kiss on your tummy, whispering to it.

"Please come out already~ Papa wants to meet you!"

Your heart swelled with warmth at that moment. Gojo Satoru was many things, but he wasn't typically known for his softness—he was often seen as this all-perfect being, and so witnessing him acting purely on his human emotions brought you a sense of happiness.

“Who do you think he’ll take after?” you mused.

“Hmmm. Me, obviously. He'll be hot just like me!” he quipped proudly, and you playfully smacked him on the arm.

Satoru caught your hand and kissed it tenderly amidst his grin. "But I want him to have your personality. I'd hate to see him be a show-off."

"So you do realize that you're actually a menace."

He laughed out loud, patting the generous swell of your belly again with a smug look on his face.

"I know, but I'm your menace, and that's all that matters."

And when his adorable son was born less than three weeks later and you passed out due to sheer exhaustion, Satoru vowed by everything in the heavens and the earth that he wouldn't spare anything to protect you and his child from this curse-filled world.

Epilogue - on the night of the birth -

“Satoru—” you panted, grimacing, head jerking back as your womb throbbed and pulsed in order to bring forth your child into the world. “I… feel like I’m going to faint…”

Worry etched his face as you leaned on him. “Hey, hey… Calm down sweetheart, relax and catch up on your breath, okay? Don’t worry, he’ll come out soon.”

Somehow his words rubbed you the wrong way.

“Hahh—this… is because of you! This happened because you shoved your stick into me! You horny bas—aahh!”

“Well, hey! Last I remembered, you begged me to put it into you! And I'm not—pfft—”

“Then what are you?!”

“Hmmm, nothing but a man who got you pregnant, sweetheart~”

“If I bleed out and die, it’s going to be your fault, you evil, wretched sorcerer!”

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[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 3

in which spencer reid spends a rainy day teaching inexperienced fem!reader how to touch him. of course, her efforts don't go unrecognized, much less unrewarded

part one | part two

18+ (smut) warnings: inexperienced reader, softdom!spencer, sub reader, oral m receiving, reader swallows lol, a truly sickening amount of praise, like really, you JOKINGLY refer to each other as dirty sluts, r has longish hair, spit mentioned once, thigh riding (moans loudly), its filthy idk what to tell you, i feel like i've crossed the desert on foot i don't even know what else is in here, your honor they're in love, i take you to dinner first, this part is stupidly long a/n: had a fucking field day the three separate times i had to rewrite this el oh el... but think i like how it turned out?! anyway, if u like this PLS lmk bc writing it took a small piece of my soul, and yes there will be a part four!! take care of yourselves!! i love you!!!

You give Spencer half a minute or so before knocking on his door for a second time. 

It’s miserable outside, and though the hallway you’re standing in now isn’t terribly cold, you’d much prefer to be in Spencer’s apartment, where it will be the same toasty 68.5 degrees as always. Not that the heating will magically dry you. And not that you’ll be there for long, if the date you’d scheduled last week goes on as planned. 

You’re getting worried, about to knock for a third time when the locks finally click and the door opens to reveal a disheveled Spencer Reid—not at all looking ready for a date. You take in his ensemble; blue checked pajama pants, FBI Academy crewneck, the usual questionably paired socks. He’s rubbing his droopy eyes, which slowly widen as he notices your attire. 

“Shit, I’m sorry, our date! I mean—you look really nice. I look… like this. Why don’t you come in while I get ready to go?”

He holds the door open a little wider and you step through, relishing in the familiar warmth as you pull your hood down and excess water droplets spatter on the ground. 

“When did you get in?” you ask, hanging your raincoat up on a hook. You know he’d wrapped up a case yesterday evening, but you’d gone to sleep before the team left Cincinnati. 

Spencer pauses in the middle of the room, staring at the antique flooring like he forgot what he was doing. 

“Uh… four hours ago.”

“Wh—four hours? Spencer, you must be exhausted.”

He laughs awkwardly, running a tired hand over his face. 

“I mean… I’ve definitely felt better.”

You kick your soaked shoes off and cross the room until you’re toe to toe with him. Immediately his hands settle on your waist and yours find his arms. His eyes are kind, and he’s clearly pleased by your presence despite his lack of energy. 

“The weather’s terrible, anyway. Let’s just go out another day.”

His features have softened and you can see how tired he truly is—not just in his bleary eyes, but the way his fingers grasp weakly to you, the way his head bows slightly. It seems bone-deep. 

“But I haven’t seen you in a week. I don’t want you to go home.”

Your lips twist. A clap of thunder rolls in the distance and the rain starts coming down even harder against the windowpanes. 

“We could hang out here. We can take a nap!”

Spencer sighs—half resignation, half disappointment. 

“But we made such good plans,” he laments. 

You kiss his cheek. 

“Plans that can be rescheduled. The bookstore will still be there next weekend.”

It takes him a moment to settle into the idea, but you watch the exhaustion win. 

“Okay. But no nap. I want to be awake for you. Coffee?”

You nod enthusiastically, beaming at the prospect of getting to spend the day doing nothing with him. Spencer mirrors your grin, before pressing a kiss to your head.

“You’re so cute.” Heat creeps into your cheeks and you can’t think of a satisfactory reply, but in the end you don’t need to, as he tugs gently on your hands. “C’mon. Tell me what mug you want.”

The kitchen counter bites into your palms as you lean with your back to it, watching Spencer putter all around the kitchen as he works on the coffee. It makes you tired just to watch. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to take a nap? Caffeine isn’t a substitute for sleep, you know.”

“I do know,” he agrees, measuring coffee grounds. “But other than last night, I actually slept fairly well this week.”

“You seem exhausted.”

“I… am tired in lots of ways. Not all of which can be resolved with more sleep.” he admits.

Your heart drops ever so slightly at the way his voice weakens as he looks through the fridge. Sometimes you remember there are still things you don’t know about him—sides you haven’t met. His work side is one of them, and it more than a little intimidates you.

“Bad case?” you ask, voice quiet and crackling with nervous energy. 

Spencer nods, approaching and setting a carton of milk on the counter behind you—caging you in with his arms in the process. It’s hard to find the words when he’s this close, but you manage to stumble through them. 

“Do… do you wanna talk about it?”

Spencer hums, tilting his head before gently saying, “not right now. But thank you for offering, lovely.”

“Okay, well—if you change your mind… if there’s anything I can do to make you feel better…”

Finally he stops with the teasing—the unabashed staring at your lips, the faux-attentive nods—and drops his head to your level to kiss you properly. It’s obviously an attempt to get you to shut up, you’re not dumb enough so as to miss that—but you don’t really care why he’s doing it so long as he does it at all. 

“I feel pretty great right now, actually,” he murmurs against your lips, a hint of a smile coloring his words. “Do you want sugar in yours?”

“Um…”

Your eyes dart helplessly between his as he pulls away and you struggle to un-fluster yourself enough to answer his simple question. Spencer seems to delight in this. The longer it takes you, the bigger his perfect smile gets. 

“You took too long. You’re getting sugar.”

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?” you plead later on the couch, for the third or fourth time, setting your mostly-empty mug on the coffee table. 

His eyebrows raise. 

“I’m sure, honey.”

“But I want to help,” you pout, pulling your knees into your chest. Spencer regards you for a moment from the other end of the couch, before beckoning you closer wordlessly. 

“You are helping,” he assures you, gently grabbing your wrist as you crawl into his lap. He rubs soothing circles into the delicate skin with his thumb. “You being here and being you is plenty.”

It’s the closest you’ve been to him since before he left, and while you’ve all but given up on asking him to sleep with you, it doesn’t mean you don’t think about it multiple times per day. It’s especially difficult to keep your thoughts PG when you haven’t seen him in a week, and his hair is all messy, and he’s got his pajamas on, and you’re in his lap, and he’s looking at you like that. 

“What are you thinking about?” Spencer murmurs, likely concerned by your lack of response and the glazed-over look in your eyes. You reanimate, averting your gaze to the spot on your thigh he’s now rubbing absentmindedly. 

“Nothing. I just missed you.”

“I missed you a lot, too.” You don’t even have to look up to know that his brows have twisted into a pleasant sort of bemusement, like you are a particularly complex puzzle—you can hear it as he continues speaking. “I’m still not used to having something external take up so much of my attention while I’m trying to do my job. I’ve never had that before. Not something good, anyway. It’s like every time I leave, I’m thinking about you more than the time before. And I was already thinking about you a lot.”

The corner of your mouth twitches as he rambles. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, really,” he chuckles. “You prove to be incredibly distracting even when you’re hundreds of miles away. Do you know how many nights I almost called you before realizing it was one in the morning?”

A slow smile spreads over your face. 

“Oh? Whatever could you have been calling about at one in the morning?”

You’re teasing him, and it works. He blushes adorably. 

“Um… probably exactly what you’d expect. In hindsight I think it’s best that I refrained.”

“What?” You grin, incredulous, forgetting your shyness and leaning closer. “You totally should’ve. I’ve never had phone sex before. I would’ve done it.”

“No, you wouldn’t!” Spencer laughs. “It would have just been me talking to myself with you on the other line. I don’t think phone sex is really up your alley.”

“Shut up,” you laugh as your lips meet. He smiles into the kiss. Before you get too lost in it, you pull away, leaning back when he tries to follow you. “I think you’re over-complicating it. It’s just dirty talk, right? I can totally do that. It’s just, like… blah blah blah, dirty slut, something something…”

You trail off as he gives you a look. Poker faced—aside from the slightly narrowed eyes sparkling with humor. 

“You want me to refer to you as a dirty slut?”

Maintaining eye contact is an uphill battle—you crack in a matter of seconds, resting your forehead against his and closing your eyes stubbornly. 

“No. For all you know I want to call you a dirty slut.”

It’s a ridiculous, but he recognizes the bravado for what it is, still smiling slightly as he rubs your hips. 

“Right. I apologize for assuming. But just for future reference, I don’t want to be called that, and I don’t think I’d be comfortable calling you that, either.”

“But you can call me other stuff,” you remind your boyfriend, pulling back and still not looking at him. 

“Yeah? Like what?”

And just like that, you’re shy again. 

“I don’t know… nice things. I like when you’re nice.”

“I like being nice to you.” It’s so sincere-sounding that you meet his gaze, examining his face. His eyes are clear and soft on you, the only source of warm light on such a grey day, as his hands keep running slow lines over your sides. “Kiss?”

And how could you ever deny him anything? 

As has happened before, the kiss starts out innocent enough. And it’s not that it gets particularly heated, or anything—it’s just that it doesn’t end, and after a few moments your mouth slips open and so does his and that’swhat gets both of you worked up over a period of minutes. Pressure and heat that you’re becoming accustomed to build between your legs, and you don’t even notice that you’ve begun rocking back and forth in his lap until Spencer is attempting to still your hips with patient but assertive hands. 

“Honey, that’s—slow down, sweetheart.”

Finally he gets a grip on you and you realize as soon as you stop moving that there had been friction occurring—and you’re pretty damn sure you know what you were grinding against. 

Your whole body feels hot with arousal and embarrassment. 

“Oh my god—I’m sorry,” you mumble, moving your hands from his shoulders to cover your face. “That was an accident, I—”

“It’s fine,” Spencer assures you, squeezing your waist gently. “I just wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing because I know we haven’t… gotten there, yet.”

A moment passes—your hands fall to the FBI stitching across his chest, studying the letters without really seeing them. You haven’t gotten there yet… but why not? Why haven’t you touched him, or even seen him? You think back to the few times he’s touched you and realize that you had been too busy with either your own insecurities or pleasure to genuinely consider how it might be affecting him. He says your name gently, drawing your attention. 

“You okay?”

You nod haltingly, brow furrowed as you think. 

“I—yeah. I was just realizing that I haven’t, like… touched you, yet.”

It’s silent for another long second, and you glance up, to where he’s studying you with a dissonant kind of relaxed scrutiny—a knowing confidence that probably comes with a lot more experience than you have. 

“Do you want to?”

Woah. 

Usually you have to beg on hands and knees and prepare a slideshow presentation before he agrees to doing anything sexual in nature. He’s never so overtly invited or initiated it before. Not that you’re complaining by any stretch of the imagination.  

You nod shyly, still fiddling with the fabric of his shirt. 

“If you want to, I can show you how. But it’s also absolutely okay if you don’t.”

Show you how? 

Your brain is melting into sludge at the idea. 

“I do,” you admit, meeting his gaze again. It’s kind, and you know he really wouldn’t be upset if you said no—but now that you’ve thought about it, you feel deeply compelled to try. 

“Okay. Come here, first.” You lean forward expectantly, eyes fluttering shut as his hand finds the back of your neck and he pulls you into another soft kiss. By the time your lips separate again, your head is spinning. “We’re just trying something, okay? You’re allowed to stop whenever you feel like it. Really low stakes. Got it?”

You nod, still close enough that your noses brush as you do. 

“Got it.”

He presses one more chaste kiss to your lips before pulling away and leaning back into the couch. 

“Scoot back a little, angel.”

Wordlessly you do so, heart pounding with nervous excitement as he lifts his hips and slides his pajama pants down just enough to where he can comfortably pull himself out, and—

Your breath catches. 

Now, you may be about as virginal as they come, but you weren’t born yesterday. You’ve seen porn, you’ve received unsolicited nudes—it is the 21st century. Yet never before have you thought to yourself; wow, that dick is the pinnacle of beauty. Perfect. Breathtaking. But there’s just no other way to describe him. 

So that’s what hits you first—how unexpectedly pretty it is. 

The size sinks in a quick second later. 

You can’t tell with perfect accuracy how many inches he is, but you’re pretty damn sure he’s big. That’s meant to fit inside of you?

No, no—that’s a consideration for another day. Right now you need to stop staring like an idiot. You glance up at his face, and he’s sporting a cocky little half-smile which lets you know you’ve been caught. Motherfucker he’s so hot. It’s unnerving. 

“Do you have something you’d like to say?” he asks politely, quite obviously containing his amusement. But you can’t summon a sufficiently sarcastic response. 

Your voice comes so soft when you reply, “you’re pretty.”

Spencer melts, eyes impossibly softening. 

“Pretty?” His smile is earnest now. He strokes your cheek and you can’t not lean into his touch. 

“Mhm. I want to, um…” your lips twist to the side as you look back down, finding he’s not gotten less intimidating since you last checked. “But what if I’m bad at it?” you whisper. He chuckles, brushing hair over your shoulder.  

“It’s kind of a hard thing to be bad at. And I’m gonna help you, okay?”

It’s the honesty with which he speaks to you that makes you feel so safe. There are no hidden intentions or words that seem to mean one thing but really mean another. Spencer wants you as a person more than he wants you as a body and that’s been clear since the first time he touched you. You take a deep breath. 

“Okay. What do I do?”

“First, you’re gonna spit in your hand.”

You look up, alarmed. 

“You want me to intentionally get my spit on you? Is that not your worst nightmare?”

“Believe it or not, I’m not super worried about yours,” he teases. “But if you’d prefer, I can spit in your hand.”

“Actually, mine is fine,” you laugh nervously. 

Hesitantly, you do as instructed, even though it seems frankly bizarre. 

“Good. Now just wrap your hand around it, like this.” His voice is quiet, focused as he guides your hand downward. Your heart rate ticks up again as he encourages you to wrap your hand around the base of his cock. He feels much warmer than you’d expected—his skin is silken beneath your touch but he’s undeniably hard and that sort of eliminates any sense of him being fragile from the equation. 

“It’s gonna be less sensitive down here—and then, up here—” he slides your hand back up, covering your thumb with his own and swiping it just below the head of his cock on the underside. He hisses and you look up in fascination. “That’s the most sensitive part.”

Without further instruction, you do it again, keeping your touch light and watching his face for a reaction. His drawn brows twitch, furrowing deeper for a second, and his lips part. A heavy exhalation passes between them and quickly builds into a breathy laugh. 

“What?” you murmur, over-eager to please and very nervous to do something wrong. 

“Nothing. Just feels good, that’s all.”

“Don’t laugh,” you pout. Of course that makes him laugh again, and he leans forward to kiss your head. 

“I’m laughing at myself, angel. I’m a grown man fighting for my life from a handjob that you’ve barely started. I knew it would be different with you but I didn’t realize it would be this different.”

Heat rises in your cheeks and you look away. 

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”

“I’m not lying,” he urges, grabbing your free hand and encouraging you to uncurl your fingers. His thumb traces circles in your open palm, before capturing your entire hand in his. “Do you feel how much softer your hand is than mine?”

You frown, attempting to feel whatever it is that he’s pointing out. Despite the fact that you think he has very nice hands, you realize he’s right. By no means would you say that they’re rough, but you can tell where his gun normally sits in his hands, where his fountain pen rubs against his fingers. “Yeah.”

“Yeah. Anything you do is going to be perfect because it’s you.”

Spencer drops his hand to your leg, rubbing it soothingly. The other moves to cover yours—the one wrapped around him. 

“You’re gonna help me, right?” you ask quietly. Some adventurous part of you is very excited about this as an experiment—fascinated by the reactions you’ve already gotten from him and eager to push it. 

“I am. Little bit tighter, honey. I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”

You do as you’re told, and he’s murmuring more praise—slowly encouraging you to begin moving your hand with his own. A shaky exhale catches your attention, drawing your gaze to his face. His eyes are, of course, cast downward, but his expression is hypnotizing. Those lips remain slightly parted, and suddenly you wonder if he makes noises like you do. In that moment it becomes your life’s mission to find out. 

For a while you continue letting his hand guide your movements, but he keeps things so slow for your sake that you’re getting impatient. You forgo his direction, picking up the pace but trying to keep the rhythm he’d instilled in the motion. His hand slackens around yours. 

“Fuck,” he hisses to himself. The hand on your thigh rubs achingly deeper into the flesh. “Angel, what are you doing?”

“I want it to feel good.” Suddenly shy again, you slow down. His hips stutter, which you think may be a sign that it was working. “Am I—was that bad?” Spencer looses a breath, looking almost… frustrated?

“No, I’m just—I’m weirdly close to coming.”

“That’s a good thing, right?”

“Well,” he mutters, “not usually. Mostly it’s embarrassing.”

You giggle, a release of some tension, and begin pumping your hand again. His breath hitches and he finally looks up at you, meeting your eyes with his own lust-glazed ones. Heat pools deep between your legs. 

“I want you to come,” you admit quietly as you twist your wrist, brushing that spot underneath the head of his cock again. His jaw literally drops, and a look that is part confusion, part pleasure, twists his features. You see the surprise sparkling in his eyes and it only spurs you to keep talking. “I’ve never seen how you look when you do, but I’ve imagined it. I bet you look so pretty when you come, Spencer. ‘Nd then I would know that I can make you feel good, too.”

“You… you are making me feel good,” he assures you. The way his brow furrows and his  lips are parted give you a feeling that’s entirely new. Normally, you’re the one falling apart under his touch—but when it’s the other way around there’s a whole new kind of pleasure in it for you. You feel kind of powerful. Maybe even close to confident. 

“Really? I’m not this quiet when you touch me.”

“I’ve ha—ah—had more practice not making noise.”

“But why?” you implore, ignoring the fact that he’s slept with other women and enjoyed the sounds they made, and opting to brush your thumb across that extra sensitive part he definitely shouldn’t have told you about. His hips buck up and he hisses, which is immensely gratifying to you. 

“Because I like to listen.”

“What if I do, too?”

In a moment of divine inspiration , you cover the tip of his cock with your hand, swirling beads of pre-come over your palm. Spencer moans and his hips jut up into your grip. It’s a beautiful sound, just as you’d hoped. 

“Jesus, fuck.”

You understand why he seems to enjoy touching you so much. It’s so rewarding to watch as his breathing picks up and pleasure contorts his face—to watch him get messier and messier and lose his composure a bit more with each stroke of your hand. It’s so simple but Spencer looks at you like you’re exercising some arcane deviant power over him and he’s not sure he should be enjoying it as much as he is. 

Distantly you think about how it felt when he had his hands on you—and then, in clearer focus, how it felt when he went down on you. Both were perfect, but something about his lips so gentle on the most intimate, vulnerable part of you had felt like ascension. Maybe it was the emotional component, or maybe it just felt fucking good. Regardless, it seems an irresistible thought. 

You keep stroking him until his head is lolling on the back of the couch as he groans.

“Spencer?”

“Yeah, baby?”

He sounds so destroyed it makes you clench around nothing. Without any indication that you’re going to do so, you stop touching him, and the speed with which he lifts his head again is almost comical. Immediately, while he’s utterly defenseless and desperate, you ask, “can I use my mouth?” 

His eyes widen, and then shut, as he processes your request with a tiny shake of his head—probably trying to clear the haze of pleasure from his mind before he answers. 

“Honey,” he rasps eventually, opening his eyes and smoothing a hand over your hair, “you don’t have to do that just because I do. That’s not why I do it.”

“But I want to,” you murmur, shy and mildly embarrassed by what feels almost like a soft rejection. “I don’t think I could do anything, like, mind-blowing, but… I want to try.”

Your face is hot by the end of the sentence, and you can’t meet Spencer’s eyes as his fingers twitch over your hip. A quiet moment passes—but it’s short-lived.

“Okay. Go ahead, baby.”

Wide eyes dart up to his. 

“Really?”

Spencer smiles fondly, brushing an invisible speck from your cheek. 

“I don’t think I’m capable of turning that offer down. Not when it’s you.”

“Okay—um, should I just—” Spencer watches on, finding your sudden enthusiasm completely adorable as you scoot off of his lap and gingerly kneel in front of him. Your eyes are big and glassy as you look up at him, hands set politely on his knees. You squint suspiciously, eyes darting between his face and his cock, now about as hard as it’s ever been due to your toying. He knows it’s probably intimidating for a girl who has never seen one in real life, and he feels kind of bad about it. You do terrible, wonderful things to him that he doesn’t understand. “Wow. So... it looks bigger from down here.”

“Please don’t try to choke yourself,” he instructs hurriedly, leaning forward slightly. “I really don’t need you to do that. It’s fine if you can’t fit it all, I just—” he exhales shakily. Spencer is most definitely strong-willed but he can’t pretend like the sight of you on your knees for him, inches from his aching cock for the first time isn’t impacting his cognition. Most importantly he doesn’t want to make you feel pressured. He’s trying to not let how badly he wants this show in case you change your mind. 

Spencer watches as you psych yourself out—wilting like a thirsty flower. 

“But what if I’m bad at this?” you mumble, hands curling into loose fists atop his legs. Spencer pushes your hair back, tucking it behind your ears. 

“What’s your worst case scenario?” he asks. Your answer is immediate. 

“That I’m so bad you make me stop halfway through.”

Spencer can’t help but laugh again. 

“I’m sorry—I just… honey, you are really underestimating how profound your effect is on me. I just almost came from a minute long handjob. I can assure you that I won’t make you stop halfway through because I’d rather not have your mouth on me. That is… that’s just not going to happen.”

You lean your cheek against his thigh. He might actually pass away. 

“Will you tell me if I’m doing something wrong?”

“Honestly, as long as you don’t bite, you’re in the clear.”

Your eyes squeeze shut and your lips pull into an embarrassed little smile. 

“Great. Thank you for that invaluable advice.”

“Of course,” he smiles. It fades slowly as you take a deep breath and look up at him, obviously steeling yourself, before leaning forward and taking him in your hand again. He watches with bated breath, repeating no sudden movements to himself over and over as your hand moves up and down a few more times and your head lowers. 

You delicately, so lightly trace your tongue from the base of his swollen cock to just underneath the leaking tip, mapping a vein, and his hips buck as you take him into your mouth experimentally. Only the first few inches fit but the sight of your lips wrapped around him, the way you’re looking at him is so unbelievably erotic Spencer knows he won’t last very long.

From a purely technical perspective—he knows he’s gotten objectively better head. Still, something about the way you’re so delicate with him, so soft and timid in the way you lick and kiss and take him into your mouth has him fighting not to come already. Maybe it’s wrong, but knowing that he’s watching you do this for the first time in your life is obscenely arousing. The idea that you’ve never trusted another person this much; that you’re letting him be the one to help you navigate something as new and as important as sexuality. The more he thinks about it, though, the more he realizes: it’s not your inexperience that turns him on. It’s just you. Everything you do is so undeniably you—he recognizes your mannerisms in every tiny motion, in every glance, and it’s killing him. You’re like a dream as you look up at him with big nervous eyes, (no, really, he has had this dream) and he remembers he wants to be reassuring you—not pondering life and human connection. 

“Look at you,” he murmurs, groaning and hips twitching as your cheeks hollow, wrapping his achingly hard cock in soft gentle warmth so sweetly it feels taboo. “So good, baby. So gorgeous like this.”

You whine around him, receptive as always to his obsequious praise, and he notices the way your hips wiggle as you seek friction. God, you must like this a lot. Spencer gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, resting his hand on your head as you begin to bob it. That, he wasn’t prepared for. He’d have been satisfied with just kitten-licks and suckling but he won’t complain about this. It’s slow, and so intentional as you keep watching him for feedback cues. Ever his observant girl, you’re constantly paying attention. Aware of his reactions. He needs to keep telling you you’re good or else you’ll assume you’re terrible. 

“Over-achiever,” he whispers through a little smile as you down even more of him. 

Spencer is for the most part a kind and gentle person. For better or worse he is also a man, and he can’t help but fantasize about getting you all teary and drooly as he holds your mouth open and sees how much of his cock he can push down your throat. But again—kind. Gentle. So when you get a little over-zealous, attempting to sacrifice your comfort for his pleasure, he pulls your head back slightly. “That’s far enough, angel. That’s—fuck. God, you’re good at this.” The words are thoughtless, muttered to himself more than you as he watches through a haze while you look up at him with glassy, half-lidded eyes, slipping him in and out of your warm mouth, a little faster now as you gain confidence. 

You whine desperately around him, like you’re the one nearing orgasm and not him. The sound of your pleasure as you suck his cock makes him dizzy. His hips buck, pressing him a little deeper into your mouth. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he exhales. “Slow down, baby. I’m—” a louder moan from him like you’ve never heard as he thrusts shallowly turns you on profoundly. He’s so much more vocal than you’d have imagined—sonically and verbally. He breathes out a quick, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” pulling your hair slightly, and you’ve never wanted to touch yourself more but you know you can’t focus on both. Instead you work on making him come—you can worry about you later. He says your name, with an authoritative edge to his tone that makes you throb. “Honey, if you don’t stop, I’m gonna come—”

You swirl your tongue around the top of him like candy and he’s done for. Spencer tries to pull out, which only results in cum both in your mouth and on your face. The orgasm is his strongest in recent memory, and he grunts, watching your lips part and a little squeak escape as he comes all over your face—but you keep stroking him all the while. Once he’s 90% sure it’s over, he falls against the back of the couch, breathing heavily and looking down at you through hazy eyes. Oh, he’s going to feel terrible about this in a few seconds—but right now you look fucking perfect. Your eyes are wide, nervous as his essence drips over your face and down your neck—he groans when you swallow cautiously, averting his eyes to the ceiling lest he do another thing he regrets. 

“Baby, I am so sorry,” he mutters, forcibly clearing the haze of orgasm from his mind and sitting up, fixing his pants and looking around before locating the box of tissues on the side table. “I’m so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” You look up at him attentively as he wipes himself from your face as gently as he can. 

“Why not?”

“Because I didn’t ask you first. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

Spencer guides your head around by your chin, wiping your jaw and lips. 

“It’s okay, Spence, I—”

“No, it’s not,” he cuts you off, trying to at least turn his guilt into a learning experience for you. He’s not deluded enough to think someone like you will stay with someone like him forever, because sometimes he does things like that, and he’s reminded that there are certainly people out there more deserving of you. At the very least he can clarify that nobody should ever do what he just did to you. “It’s really not nice to do that to someone.”

“Do you care what I think at all?”

Spencer freezes, finally forcing himself to look you in the eye. Despite the fact that he’s mad at himself, he’s sure it’s coming across as being directed at you. And he knows you’re sensitive, especially about this kind of thing. 

“Of course, I do, baby. I’m sorry. Do you want to come back up here with me and tell me what you’re thinking?” he murmurs, cupping your jaw. Hesitantly you nod. The tissues end up on the table—which he will be thoroughlywiping down later—before you crawl back into his lap from the floor. Spencer helps you settle against him, hoping he hasn’t messed this up irreversibly. He keeps his voice quiet as he rubs your leg. “What were you going to say?”

“I was going to say,” you begin, “that it’s fine, because you’ll remember to ask next time. And because… I kind of liked it. I like when—when you do stuff like that.”

It’s a miracle he can hear you with the way your voice drops into an almost-whisper and you’re hiding against his shirt. 

“Like what?” he murmurs. Although he’s not sure he’ll be able to handle the answer. 

“Like… I don’t know. Like you can do whatever you want to me. Like I’m literally yours.” Each word makes you cringe further, but Spencer has to try hard to maintain a cool facade as he processes this. If he’s going to try and be chivalrous, you’ll have to move away from this topic—this revelation—immediately. Thankfully, you seem eager to move on. “So… how did I do?”

He almost laughs. It seems exceedingly obvious how you did, but as per usual, you require verbal reassurance. 

“That was really good, baby. You did well.”

You blossom. 

“Really?”

“I wouldn’t lie.”

“Was I the best girl out of all of the other girls?” 

I wasn’t in love with any of the other girls. 

Just barely, he manages to stop himself from saying it, pinwheeling his arms on the edge of a very steep verbal cliff. The realization that he’s been in love with you for a while hits him like a truck. But he can’t tell you that right now. He should wait until you’re less vulnerable.

Fuck. 

He really wants to tell you right now. 

“Actually—don’t answer that,” you decide, while all of this happens in his head in less than a few seconds. “I want to go back to pretending I’m the only girl you’ve ever seen in your life.”

“You’re the only one that matters,” he offers, relieved to express at least some portion of the much bigger truth. Then he frowns. “Not that the other women I’ve met don’t lead important lives. I actually know a lot of incredibly influential and intelligent people who are women. I have deep respect for all of them. Am I helping or making it worse?” he rambles. You giggle. He has his answer. “What about you? How do you feel?” he asks after a moment, tenderly, lowly, stroking your hair as you lean against his chest. 

It takes you a moment to deliberate, fiddling with the fabric of his shirt. 

“I feel good. I, um… liked it a lot more than I would have thought.”

“Well, that’s good. Much better than if you had hated every second of it.”

You hum in agreement, and he waits for you to say whatever you’re holding back. It comes sooner than he’d have anticipated. 

“I feel bad about the times before. How did you just… go to sleep after? Were you not, like—insanely turned on? Not that I’m, like, irresistibly sexy, or whatever—you know what I mean.”

Spencer smiles because he knows you can’t see him. 

“I wasn’t doing it to pressure you into feeling obligated to reciprocate, I guess. My line of reasoning was that it would be less intimidating if I didn’t even present it as an option until you wanted to try.”

“Oh.”

Spencer thinks he sees where this is going. 

“Why?” he asks, leaning back and encouraging you to look at him. “Are you insanely turned on?”

“Wh—that’s—I didn’t say that!”

Spencer can feel how warm your cheeks are as he presses his lips to the side of your face. 

“You can tell me if you are,” he murmurs, all smiley as he moves to kiss your lips. “If you want something, you need to ask for it. I’m not a mind reader.”

“Yes you are,” you grumble. “That’s literally what behavioral analysis is.”

Not quite true, but surprisingly, he doesn’t feel the need to explain to you the semantics of what he does for work right now. 

“What got you all excited?”

“You know what,” you mumble, trying to look away again. Spencer doesn’t allow it this time, gently grabbing your jaw. 

“Yes, I do. But I want you to tell me. If you want me to make you feel good, this is how you’re going to convince me that you deserve it.”

You whine wordlessly, looking at him with those big, lust-glazed eyes.

“You wanted me to teach you how to use your words, right? This is it. I’m giving you an opportunity. If you don’t want to, that’s okay. Maybe we can take a nap, like you said earlier.”

“No! I liked—um, I liked all of it. I didn’t know if I would, because I was really nervous. But when I first—you know—and you got all quiet… it was like you couldn’t even talk for a minute. I was kind of proud of that. Because normally nobody can ever get you to stop talking.” Spencer narrows his eyes incredulously, a small smile tugging at his lips. But he doesn’t interrupt—not when it seems you’re finally starting to get more confident in your words. “And I really liked the noises you made. I think that was my favorite part. I liked when you pulled my hair back, and how you spoke to me. And when… when you got me messy and I had to swallow it. I really liked how it felt because I couldn’t think of anything else, just making you feel good. I really wanted to… make you proud, I guess. Is that weird?”

Spencer shakes his head no, a fond smile on his face when your eyes meet his again. 

“No. It’s a pretty normal thing to feel when you’re nervous and wanting to impress someone you care about. And I would have been proud no matter what, for the record. You were being very brave.”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, watching him expectantly. Spencer should have known you’re too needy to truly absorb anything he says to you right now. Which is actually pretty cute. Everything you do is endearing to him. 

“Stand up.”

You frown. 

“But—”

“Just stand up,” he demands calmly, preferring to think of himself as firm and not bossy. 

You do, looking rather annoyed and confused as you plant yourself in front of him. 

“Why?”

“You are so full of questions.” His hands slip up the side of your legs, under your skirt, and hook in the waistband of your underwear. Spencer looks up at you meaningfully and you nod, swallowing. 

As he pulls down, Spencer can literally feel the resistance of the fabric clinging to your soaked core. Under his touch the skin of your thighs is warm and soft. He wants to feel it on either side of his face, he wants to hear you whine as his stubble rubs against it, he wants to feel it clamp around his wrist, he wants it between his teeth and he definitely wants it pressing against his hips as he—

But no. 

There will be time for all of those things—especially the last one—later. For now, he’ll reach between your legs just to see—

“Oh, my god,” Spencer half-chuckles, half-groans, upon feeling how wet you truly are for him. He drags his knuckles from your dripping entrance up over your clit, pinching very lightly and earning a squeak from you which he ignores. “You really did like having your mouth full of me, huh?”

“I told you,” you breathe, visibly relaxing some as he continues to play with you for a moment. Then he pulls his hand away again, patting his thigh. 

“Sit.”

“You want me to…”

“Yes,” he says, simply. 

“But is it not going to… am I not going to mess up your pants?”

“You are even more neurotic about messiness than I am. I can wash them, honey. Come here.”

Spencer guides your hips over his thigh, watching your pretty face twist with uncertainty as you fully settle on him. Fuck, he can feel your warmth through the fabric instantly. Already he’s getting hard again. 

“What am I supposed to do?” you whisper, bunching his shirt in your fists. Spencer slides your skirt up higher, revealing the way you’re nestled against his thigh. He spreads you a little further apart, exposing more of your clit to the material underneath you. Immediately you press against him—he watches the delicate flesh rubbing gingerly against him and  his grip tightens ever so slightly. 

“All you have to do is rock back and forth. It’s easy.”

Already you’re starting to do it—but he guesses it’s like earlier where you don’t even realize it’s happening. 

“But… I wanted your mouth,” you admit, quietly, slinging your arms around his neck and burying your face there. 

“Do this for me first. Just get yourself off like this one time and then you can have my mouth. You said you wanted to help me feel better because I’m tired today, right?

“Yes,” you mumble, squirming over him. 

“Well, there are a lot of days when I get back home and I’m tired. I’m gonna need you to be able to get on top of me, just like this, and make me feel better. And I know you don’t know what it feels like to have something that deep inside of you yet, but it’s gonna be a lot. Even once you know how it feels to have me inside when you’re underneath me. I need you to practice for me right now so you’ll be ready, okay?”

You could come from the words alone. You nod, dazed with need as you roll your hips in a circle, pressing his thigh against your clit. 

“Back and forth, baby,” he murmurs, guiding your hips forward with his hands locked around them. “Back and forth, just like this…”

You moan quietly, shamelessly, eyes fluttering as you look down and watch your clit dragging over the darkening fabric. It’s easier if you isolate your hips, grinding down without moving your legs or upper body at all. 

“It feels really good,” you whisper under your quickening breath. 

“Yeah? Does it?”

“Mhm.”

“Good, angel. You look like you know what you’re doing.”

It’s audible now, quiet and wet and dirty. 

“I don’t,” you breathe. He sucks in a breath of his own, stilling your hips with fingers pressed deep into your flesh. 

“Sit up, baby.” You really wish he would stop making you stop, but you don’t want to keep going in case he needs you to quit—so you rise slowly, thighs trembling as you kneel. Spencer groans at the strings of your arousal momentarily connecting your core to his pants before they snap, getting your inner thighs wet. There’s a dark, very wet patch over his thigh, shining like glass. He thumbs over your slick clit absentmindedly as he looks up at you like you’re a miracle. “You’re fucking soaked. I’ve never seen you like this. Is this all from making me come?”

You nod feverishly, hips grinding against nothing in search of friction. He sits you back down on his leg, allowing you to sloppily find your rhythm again. Spencer bounces his leg lightly and you cry out softly, buckling forward. His arms wrap around you, still pressing you down against his thigh as you rut against it. 

“You’re sweet. Maybe I should have known how much you’d like it when I came all over your pretty face. You really like hearing that you did a good job, huh? I bet you like it even more when I prove it to you.”

You moan a “yeah,” barely processing his words. 

“My good girl even swallowed on her first try. Took it so well. And now look at how you’re taking this. You’re gonna love riding, baby. Just going to be another thing you’re good at as soon as you try it.”

“Spencer,” you gasp, overwhelmed by the praise. He’s bouncing his leg at regular intervals and everything is so sensitive.

“I know it’s harder to finish this way, but just one time, remember? And then you can have my tongue for as long as you want. You are my only plan for the day. Just give me one like this.”

But it’s not really harder to finish this way. Then again, you’re so turned on you could probably finish if a breeze hit you just right. Regardless, the thought of him going down on you again pushes you even closer to the edge.

You don’t know how much time goes by like that, you rubbing against him like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do, him pressing up into you until the pressure is so taut it snaps. There’s no time to warn him, but you suppose you don’t really need to. You writhe against him, caught between wanting to keep going and not being able to take more stimulation. He lifts you up just slightly, trying to separate you from his leg. You exhale deeply as your body relaxes, already close to dozing off against his chest.

“We can’t have you tapping out just yet. I still have to fulfill my end of the deal.”

In the end, he fulfills it three times over, and you end up showing your appreciation in kind one more time—much slower and more comfortably in his bed. He gives you plenty of time to learn what he likes, taking your teasing and coquettish explorations like a champ and never so much as tightening his grip in your hair. Turns out, you don't exactly spend the day doing nothing.

And you do end up taking that nap after all. Just... much, much later. And with less clothing on.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine

[dollfacefantasy]

Hold My Calls

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: you teasing leon about his flip phone leads to some fun

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), fucking during a phone call, age gap, daddy kink, praise/degradation, over-stimulation

word count: 2.9k

a/n: hey everyone school is kicking my ass rn, but i am back with another one. thank you so much for the support on my last post that meant the world to me. i don't care if this is not technologically accurate or whatever just let me be delusional in peace. as always comments and reblogs are appreciated and i will give you special smooches in return <3 also thank you too my loves @tosuckmyweenis @kaitkatme @chasingkennedy @explorevenus @sleepyluxe @death-paint @petitecolibri for helping me come up with ideas for this one and/or beta reading - ily all sm :)

When you started dating Leon Kennedy, obviously you knew there was an age gap. You figured it wasn’t a big deal. He’s only thirty-six. That isn’t that much older. And for the most part, that was true. The difference in years never seemed to play a huge part in how you loved each other. But there was one thing that reminded you of this man’s age.

He had a fucking flip phone.

Honestly, it didn’t even say much about his age. It highlighted his stubbornness. He was not incompetent. His job had him working with all kinds of shit that you didn’t even try to understand, so it’s not like he can’t work a smartphone. He just doesn’t want to.

It didn’t really matter. If anything, it was kind of cute. The way he fumbled with the buttons that were too small for his fingers. The loud chiming ringtone that he would grumble about yet never turn down. The sight of him trying to find the right distance to hold the phone away from his face so he could read the font. You had heart eyes on your first date when this man popped in a CD because he couldn’t use the aux with his flip phone. They were simple quirks, but they were just so endearing to you. You’d tease him about being outdated, and he’d put up with it cause it was you.

“Why do I need anything more? This thing can call you, and that’s all I really need,” he’d say with a teasing expression when you’d crack a joke.

You’d roll your eyes at the excessive charm, but you couldn’t help smiling. “Yeah, but-”

And he’d cut you off with a kiss. “Trust me. I like it. It’s simple. Plus it’s like indestructible. But if I ever want an upgrade, you’ll be the first to know.”

The only time Leon ever considered ditching his trusty flip phone and upgrading to something more advanced was when you would send him nudes. Seeing the masterpiece that is your body reduced to a handful of pixels on the tiny screen drove him fucking wild. Upon hearing the chime of his phone and seeing the small image of you gracing his screen, he’d find a moment alone to try and see the details. He’d hold the phone two inches away from his face trying to make out every last curve. Days when he got those pictures ended with nights where you got fucked on every surface in the house.

He’d come home from work, his eyes full of lust before he even saw you. You’d glide into the room with a knowing smile on your face. You wanted him just as bad as he wanted you.

“Hi, baby. How was work?” you ask, feigning innocence. You close the distance between the two of you and wrap your arms around him.

“Oh, you care about my work now, huh?” he asks, a smirk creeping onto his face as his arms return your embrace, “Doesn’t seem like it when you send me those cute pictures during the day, distracting me, making me think about you when I should be focused.”

Your lips part and your eyebrows raise in mock offense. “I only send those to help you, motivate you,” you tease as your fingers coast along his biceps, “Maybe if you had a real phone they wouldn’t bother you so much. You’d be able to see everything clearly and not be left imagining.”

“I don’t need to stress about pictures though when I got the real thing waiting at home for me every night,” he purrs as he leans in and starts kissing you.

You return the kiss with the same level of passion, lips moving with his as the two of you stumble over to the couch. You fall back onto the cushions with Leon on top of you. His hands already roam your body and begin removing articles of clothing. He wasn’t in the mood to take his time after having that grainy image of you gnawing at his mind all day.

“Fuck, baby. Every time… I can never get enough,” he grunts as he yanks your top over your head and tosses it to the side. His hands rub up and down your sides, the rough pads of his fingers dragging over your sensitive skin and making you squirm. In no time though, they’re on your breasts. He kneads the plump flesh as his lips trail down to your neck and collarbone, leaving a trail of saliva-coated skin in their wake.

He’s all over you all at once it seems. It’s overwhelming in the best way. You’re moaning and writhing on the couch, nearly trying to hump his leg while one of your hands tugs at his hair. You bite your lip and whimper as his lips move down over the swell of your chest.

He grabs your hips firmly and presses them down to the couch. His half-lidded eyes look up at you momentarily. “Quit squirming,” he breathes. He gives your chest a few more kisses while keeping his eyes locked with yours. “Need time with my pretty girl after I’ve been aching for her all day.”

You give a weak nod and focus on controlling your movements as he tugs your shorts off and drops them.

“Good girl,” he mutters before attaching his lips to one of your nipples and swirling his tongue around the peak. He hums in satisfaction as he feels the bud in his mouth. His fingers lazily stroke up and down your folds over your panties. He disconnects his mouth momentarily and looks up at you again with a smirk on his face.

“So wet already?” he teases, now being his turn to look smug, “You want me just as bad, don’t you? That’s why you send those pictures right? You’re missing Daddy while he’s at work?”

“Mhm, miss you so bad. It drives me crazy,” you say. A whimper escapes you as his fingers apply more pressure and his movements more strategically target your clit.

“I can tell. Makes you act like a little slut, huh?” he asks before he kisses down your stomach to the hem of your panties.

You feel your face getting hot at his comment, but you nod anyway. You bite your lip and keep your eyes locked with his.

He chuckles at your timid confirmation. “That’s ok, honey. Daddy’s here now. I’m gonna make sure you get all the attention you need. Can’t have my girl left wanting,” he says, pulling down your panties and putting them with your other discarded clothes.

He loops his arms around your thighs and pulls you closer so that you’re angled in a way he can reach you from his position on his knees. Your back is flat on the couch, and your legs are held over his shoulders. He doesn’t waste time, licking a stripe up your cunt and then delving his tongue inside of you.

Your head falls back onto the cushion in response. A moan escapes your throat at the sensation. Your sounds only increase in frequency and volume as he grips you tighter and fucks his tongue in and out of you. He watches you, relishing how he can pleasure you with so few touches. His tongue laps up your wetness and his mouth finds your clit again, sucking and flicking against the bundle of nerves just how you like.

His name and a variety of expletives leave your mouth while your hand slides into his hair and holds the blonde locks. Your hips twitch from the rising feelings of ecstasy in your tummy, but Leon’s hands keep you firmly in place. He devours you like a starved man, the hours of torture that little picture inflicted on him all paying off right now.

He’s skillfully swirling patterns onto your clit and occasionally exploring your insides. He knows you’re close because he can feel the way you’re pulsing and hear the way your moans and whines reach that slightly higher pitch. It only makes him work with more dedication.

“That’s right, sweetheart. C’mon, give it to Daddy. Let me taste it,” he grunts as he continues working you to the edge.

You cry out, your thighs quivering and your hips bucking as you succumb to release. You’re moaning with abandon, fingers clutching his hair as tight as possible. He groans into you from the sight in front of him.

You ride the high and he continues with his mouth throughout. When you reach the seeming conclusion, your chest is heaving and your limbs feel heavy, but Leon doesn’t stop. He continues on as if you were still on the way to your climax instead of coming down.

“Too much,” you whimper as your hips jerk and your hands make a weak attempt to push his head away, “Daddy, please.”

“Daddy, please?” he mocks with a laugh, “But this is what you wanted, babydoll. You wanted my attention, didn’t you?”

You whine, hips still squirming as your retort dies in your throat. It felt euphoric, it was just so much. This was what you wanted though.

“That’s what I thought,” he says before burying his face between your thighs again.

He continues eating you out until you’re an absolute mess. Your eyes are rolling back, nonstop whimpers fall from your lips, and your twitching thighs are clamped around Leon’s head. It was what he’d been wanting to see since he’d heard that chime in his back pocket.

“I’m gonna cum,” you slur. Your head felt cloudy from the numerous orgasms he’d brought you. A strangled cry tears through you as your body moves like it’s possessed. You convulse on the couch while his mouth makes you see stars for the umpteenth time.

Tears prick at your eyes from the intensity of your release, and finally, he starts easing off of you. He pulls your thighs off of his head and leans back. He wipes his chin that’s coated in your slick and licks his fingers. Seeing that alone has you clench around nothing which in turn spreads a smirk on his face.

“Good girl, baby,” he coos, planting a kiss on your inner thigh, “You did so well. I’m proud of you.”

He stands up from his knees, grunting as he gets to his feet and taking a moment to stretch. You can tell the extended amount of time in the position put some strain on him. Your lips curl into a small smile while adoration fills your hazy eyes.

“Your joints locking up on you, old man?” you tease with a quiet laugh.

“Don’t start,” he says, trying to sound stern, but you can see him suppressing his own smile, “Especially since I know you want more.”

That shuts you up because he’s right. He shakes his head and makes a mock sound of disappointment.

“I know you, baby. My dirty girl. Made you cum how many times, and you still want more,” he says. He begins stripping off his clothes into a pile next to yours. “My little whore would never turn down a chance to take my cock.”

Once his clothes are off, he languidly strokes himself a few times and climbs on top of you. He peppers some kisses on your face and starts to slide inside you. You were more than ready but still sensitive from the recent series of highs.

“Don’t worry, sweet girl. I’ll get you full of my cum in no time. Fuck all that neediness right out,” he murmurs into your ear, his breath on you sending chills down your spine.

You mewl and tighten around him in more ways than one. Your arms cling to his torso that hovers above you while your walls squeeze around him to take him deeper. He grunts and his head falls forward a little as he feels sparks of pleasure in his abdomen.

“There you go, angel. Taking me so perfect. My pretty girl. Made for me,” he says into your ear as he sinks into you completely.

You nod mindlessly, your head fogging up again as he fills you. He presses sloppy kisses to your neck as he starts pumping in and out. You’re both breathing heavily and allowing the pleasure to take over. One of your hands slides to his hair to rub his head while his hips snap against you.

He’s falling into the perfect rhythm with you, one that’s driving you both toward the goal line, when suddenly you hear a muffled guitar strum coming from the floor. Leon groans and you burst into laughter as you hear the ringtone you had set for him as a joke.

His movements get weaker as his focus is drawn elsewhere, but he doesn’t stop rocking his hips. He reaches down to the floor where his phone is ringing in the pocket of his crumpled pants. He fishes it out and shifts so he’s kneeling while drilling into you.

He holds the phone up and squints to read the tiny caller ID on the flip phone which makes you laugh harder through moans. He smirks at your laughter and clamps a hand over your mouth. “Shut up, I gotta take this,” he says teasingly.

He whips open the phone, the maneuver causing you to moan and squeeze around him again. He winces at the sensation, nearly unable to restrain himself from giving into his carnal urges to groan and slam into you harder.

Your eyes widen as he brings the phone to his ear without stopping his hips and in the most monotonous voice says “Kennedy here.”

It’s good that his hand is over your mouth to keep you quiet. The contrast of his movements and that voice have the sparks of pleasure igniting into flames in your belly. Seeing how he handles his dumbass flip phone so smoothly has your arousal nearly pooling on the couch.

He listens to the call while grinning at you struggling to keep yourself somewhat under control. “Uh-huh. Yeah. Sounds about right,” he drones as the person on the other end goes on and on.

His strokes are just as deep as before, nudging you in the perfect spots repeatedly. Your eyes roll back as you feel yourself getting near the peak. A soft whimper escapes you, loud enough to pierce the barrier of Leon’s hand. His hips sputter at the noise and his face contorts. He lets out a quiet grunt but quickly catches himself before losing it further.

“What? Yeah, I’m listening,” he says, his tone growing a little impatient, “Look, I’m just wrapped up in something right now. Could you not have just told me this before I left?”

You know he’s getting closer himself and struggling to hold back. You can tell from the way his jaw is clenched and his eyes are projecting his rising frustration he has for the person who made this call.

“Yes, I understand. I’ll deal with it tomorrow,” he says, effectively ending the conversation. 

Then, to hang up, he doesn’t press a button. Instead, he flicks his wrist and shuts the flip phone with a clack.

You throw your head back against the couch cushion and a loud moan rips through your throat. You shudder as a wave of pleasure courses through you after witnessing something so unexplainably hot.

His eyebrows raise in amusement, noticing how much you enjoyed that. “Hmm, I’m not hearing any complaints about the phone now,” he says. He’s trying to tease, but his voice is husky with arousal. He maintains his grin as he drops the phone to the floor again and returns to his previous position which was closer to you.

“Careful, you’re gonna break it,” you whimper.

“Nah baby, I told you that thing is indestructible,” he breathes and starts pounding you into the couch mercilessly.

You bite your lip and resume clinging to him, your fingers digging into his back. You both are panting, expressions going lax as you focus on chasing the high.

“Daddy, ‘m gonna cum,” you mewl, unable to contain yourself for much longer.

“Go ahead, sweetheart,” he says into your ear, his voice taking on more of a growl, “Daddy’s right there with you. You deserve it for being so good for me. Being nice and quiet while I was on the phone.”

As soon as you have permission, you give into another release. Your legs shake and your arms cling to him tighter as the euphoria shoots through you. You’re gasping for air and whining while squirming beneath him. Soon it’s just too much for Leon. He tightens his grip on you and slams deep before groaning and draining himself inside of you.

He rocks in and out a few more times before slowly pulling out. He then sits up on the couch and sinks back into the cushions. You follow by sitting up as well and curling up against his side. He pulls you into his lap, stroking your hair away from your face and kissing your forehead. The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while until he gazes down at you with a smug look in his eyes.

“I knew the flip phone was a turn-on,” he says, clearly pleased with himself.

You scoff. “It is not. It was just… it was the situation,” you defend.

“Sure, but you were tightest when I was messing with the phone,” he says knowingly.

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

He laughs at your stubbornness and gives you another kiss. “You can admit it, baby. I won’t judge. Really, if you like it that much, maybe I’ll show you how strong it can vibrate later.”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #resident evil imagines #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #smut

[ghostfacd]

YES I KNOW THAT HE’S MY EX! | TOM BLYTH

pairing. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader

summary. you knew tom was your ex, and that you should probably stay away, but that’s never stopped you before

part 1 | installment of this au (please read for more context!)

ynuser :)

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user1 im loving the aesthetic

user2 THE BIKINI TOP IS SO CUTE

user3 put them toes awayyyy

rachelzegler i pay attention to things that most people ignore (this isn’t your car.)

➥ user4 PLEASE?? not rachel using yn’s own lyrics on her

➥ user5 IS THIS TOM’S CAR??

user6 i may be delulu but those r tom blyth’s mfing hands.

user7 he has her hair tie on; i repeat, tom blyth literally has yn’s hair tie on

When Tom had messaged you saying he wanted to talk, no matter how much you knew it was a bad idea, you decided to agree to it anyway.

The breakup had ended pretty badly. Although it was an agreement between you and Tom, that didn’t mean that’s what the both of you truly wanted.

The reason the two of you broke up in the first place was that Tom was talking too much about your future, which wasn’t a bad thing — but it overwhelmed you. You weren’t ready to settle down, not yet, at least. You and Tom had only been dating for a few months, and although it was all sweet and loving, you knew that getting engaged this early was like asking for a disaster to strike.

He was upset. Clearly. He loved you, you loved him, so why was it such an inconvenience for you to agree to take the leap in your relationship? That caused a blown out argument between you two, and by the end of it, you had agreed breaking up was the right thing.

You had a acting and music career to focus on, and Tom had an acting career that was just at the beginning of its success. You felt that it wasn’t right to put a distraction into his life.

“Is this a bad idea?” You ask breathlessly as you pull away from the kiss. You can’t help but stare into Tom’s eyes, which held a language of their own.

“Maybe,” he says, wiping the corner of your mouth. “But who cares?”

Who cares. Right. Well surely, it was a bad idea to meet up with your ex, much less kiss him, and although alarms were baring in your head that you probably shouldn’t—you go in for a second kiss, this time, Tom doesn’t let you go, cradling you close to his body.

“I don’t care if you don’t want to take the next step in our relationship, I’m fine if you’re not ready yet. I just want you, okay?”

And how could any girl possibly reject Tom Blyth when he’s begging so prettily? Certainly not you.

tomblyth and ynuser both posted an instagram story !

ynsbiggestfan THE GIRLS AND I AFTER SEEING THE STORIES ON INSTA

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user8 IM ACTUALLY DYING BC NO WAY WAS THAT A COINCIDENCE

user9 they’re connected they cant be far away from each other

user10 she’s my Heather 💔💔

➥ user12 fr i wish tom was that inlove w me

user13 so this is why rachel said that wasn’t yn’s car

➥ user14 ITS ALL MAKING SENSE NOW

sean.kauf photo dumpy

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ynuser pic creds ?? 🤬

➥ sean.kauf 🤓🤓

user15 wait im confused, is she together with tom again or is she with sean..

user16 Ykw i cant even be mad, if i was as hot as yn, i’d have two bfs too!

➥ user17 REAL SHIIT

tomblyth fun fact: the 2nd pic is sean third wheeling after forcing me and yn to speak to each other

➥ user17 TOM CONFIRMED IT IM DEAD

user18 all the yn haters must feel stupid asf rn after accusing yn of being with sean

➥ user19 literally cause all 3 of them are literally close 😭😭 like why would sean date yn, he’s literally friends with tom

user20 if yn isn’t dating sean let me have him omg

ynuser yes i know that he’s my ex but can’t two people reconnect !!!!!

view all comments

user21 this took the cake.

user22 time to cry again bc tom blyth is off the market

user23 she got him wrapped around her finger FR

user24 THE THIRD PIC OF THEM 🥹🥹

user25 THE CAPTION OUUU GIRLY IS BRAVE

tomblyth i only see you as a friend (the biggest lie i’ve ever said)

➥ user26 I CHOKED

➥ user27 THEIR SOCIAL MEDIA MANAGERS ARE CRYING RN

#coriolanus snow angst #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games x reader

[verstappen-cult]

JEALOUS BOYS | F1 GRID

★ — LANDO NORRIS (4)

lando wants to scream and tell you to shut up, but he will never do that, never. it doesn’t matter how much he wants you to stop talking about the guy you’re currently seeing and how amazing he is. he knows he lost his chance because he wasn’t brave enough to confess his feelings when you told him how you felt. he didn’t tell you that he didn’t feel the same but he didn’t tell you he shared your feelings either, so it’s normal that you’d move on. but it’s getting to the point where he thinks you’re doing it on purpose. lando always answers with ‘yes, no, uhu, mmh’ when you talk about the guy, so it’s impossible you don’t know he doesn’t care.

★ — CHARLES LECLERC (16)

if looks could kill, your friend would be buried ten meters underground. you’d told him there is nothing to be worried about and he trusts you, god he trusts you so much. but he doesn’t trust your friend, not even one bit. you’re quick to notice his annoyance, excusing yourself with your friend and taking his hand to go to a more secluded corner where you ask him what’s going on. and charles can’t lie to you, his mouth moving before his brain can catch up: “i don’t like the way he looked at you” but you can’t get angry, not when he looks so hurt and insecure.

★ — OSCAR PIASTRI (81)

when oscar feels jealous, he doesn’t say anything. he waits until you’re home, alone and comfortable to bring up the topic. he tries to deflect and say that everything is okay when you can clearly see that is not. you’re very understanding which gives him the courage to say everything, and you are grateful for it. you hug tightly whispering in his ear how much you love him, that he’s the one for you. oscar is happy to have such a healthy relationship where he can be vulnerable and don’t feel judged.

★ — MAX VERSTAPPEN (33/1)

max wants to punch the guy, he really wants to make him suffer. why does he has to touch your arm to speak to you? does he not know about personal space? he wants to walk to the bar and drag you out of there, but he has no claim over you. you’re not dating, you’re not even hooking up or something; you’re friends, just friends. and max has never hated a word so much before. you eventually walk back to him with the drinks you went to collect in the first place before that asshole got your attention. and if by the end of the night max confesses his love for you because he’s a little bit drunk, you don’t need to tell anyone else about it. or anything about the many kisses you shared.

★ — ALEX ALBON (23)

alex jokes about being jealous but you know there is truth behind his words. and he doesn’t really know he is jealous until you point it out. “i don’t know what is happening to me but they annoy me so much.” and you laugh, not to make fun but because you’ve never seen someone look so cute while jealous. alex ends up forgetting all about his jealousy the moment he feels your lips. then, he can only think about you.

★ — DANIEL RICCIARDO (3)

daniel just ignores you when he’s jealous which, you know, hurts. you don’t push him, you wait and wait until he feels better and seeks for you. he says sorry but he felt insecure and doesn’t like to feel that way. you’re allowed to have friends but not friends that act as if he doesn’t exists and he just doesn’t want to share. he looks like a little kid who didn’t get what he wanted on christmas day. you stay angry at him just for a little longer.

★ — MICK SCHUMACHER (47)

it’s no secret that you’ve been dancing around each other for some time now, neither of you willing to take the first step and admit your feelings. that is until he sees you laughing with some stranger at a party. he’s a little tipsy and doesn’t mind being a bit rude when approaching you both, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "what was so funny? why were you two laughing?" the guy gets lost no long after that, which makes him feel very proud until you’re screaming at him and he doesn’t know what to do but kiss you to shut you up. finally.

© VERSTAPPEN-CULT ⎯ do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱ #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 grid x reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #oscar piastri x reader #mick schumacher blurb #mick schumacher x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #f1 imagine

[latetaektalk]

love to hate you | jjk [viii, preview]

“when obnoxiously rich and spoiled frat boy jeon jungkook comes up to you one day and asks you to fake date him for money, you definitely should have said no. because before you knew it, you were going on insta dates with him and having lunch with his equally obnoxiously rich and spoiled friends.”

— genre: fratboy! AU, fake dating! AU, college! AU, rich kid! AU, enemies to lovers! AU, angst, fluff, sexual themes (later chapters)

— pairing: jungkook x female reader

— word count: estimated 100k for the entire series, 970 for this preview

— warnings: none for this preview

— playlist: to be added

— a/n: i cant believe we've gotten this far into the story. we're slowly but surely nearing the end and i hope you guys will have as much fun reading this as i did writing it bc this is by far my favourite chapter ive written so far for those two idiots <3

— find it here

Oh.

Your friends followed your gaze.

Jungkook had his backpack strapped to his shoulder and the red scarf wrapped around his neck. It shouldn’t be possible. You were technically too far for you to properly see, but you saw it—the tension in his shoulders, the strain in his nape, the deep knit between his brows. He was…. annoyed. It was new to you. For a moment, you almost expected to find Narae walking behind him, bugging him, hot on his trail. It would explain it to you, and you would just simply walk over there and pull him to your table. Just like that, you would ease the knit between your brows, take the tension out of his shoulders and neck-

But it wasn’t Narae. 

It was Taehyung. 

He said something to Jungkook that made him roll his eyes. Jungkook didn’t seem to want to respond, shaking his head and waving his hand around, an attempt to end the conversation. But Taehyung wasn’t so kind, going on, even taking hold of his shoulder.

“Someone is in a mood,” Namjoon mumbled, cringing.

“What are they talking about, Y/N?” Jimin asked, looking at you, and you stared right back at him, frowning.

“How would I know?”

“You’re his girlfriend.”

“So?”

“Go find out.”

“What? I just walk up to them and say,” you raised your voice a few pitches, “‘Oh my God, hi, you guys are clearly fighting. Care to share?’ Is that what you want?”

Jimin blinked, shrugging. “Sure, that would work.”

“You’re so ridiculous, Jimin,” you hissed, touching a hand to your forehead. “That wouldn’t work.”

“Of course, it would. Kook’s absolutely obsessed-”

“Oh my God, shut up,” Chaeyoung hissed, slapping Jimin. “They’re looking!”

“You guys are always so loud,” Hoseok sighed, and you sent him a glare because no, you don’t! It’s just Jimin!

But they were right. Taehyung and Jungkook were both looking at you, their conversation having come to an end. When you met his gaze, Jungkook’s face contorted into something else, features twitching. You couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but it wasn’t the usual. He didn’t soften in the way you were used to when he would see you. And when you tried a smile, Jungkook struggled to return it. You felt shot, and your smile faltered.

But Jimin didn’t sense it at all, wildly waving his hand around, gesturing for the two to come this way. And as if it wasn’t more obvious, he yelled it too, “Hey, Tae and Kook! Come join us!”

Jisoo sighed, “He’s such an idiot.”

Chaeyoung and Hoseok shrugged, as if to say well, it’s Jimin. They were right, it was just Jimin being himself, unaware and impulsive. Namjoon didn’t have any words, shaking his head. 

Jungkook and Taehyung looked at each other, exchanging a few words before the latter glanced at his watch and shook his head. He had to go. Taehyung placed his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, whispering something into his ear. You must have imagined it but it looked like he glanced in your direction. But before you could think about it, Taehyung headed in the same direction he had previously come from, and Jungkook slowly made his way over, not meeting your eyes once.

“What were you arguing about?” Jimin asked when Jungkook stood in front of you, and you watched him grip the strap of his backpack, the skin over his knuckles stretching thin.

“Jimin!” Jisoo hissed, punching him. 

“Ow!”

“Right, yeah, of course, you’d ask,” he smiled. “It’s fine.”

Jungkook said it with a laugh, but it was all wrong. 

“We weren’t arguing.” 

And as if it wasn’t enough, Jungkook put on his brightest and biggest smile. He showed it to everyone. Like a stone plunged into the deep sea, your heart sank. You had seen it before, that smile. It had decorated his lips during the Halloween party when you first walked in, or when you had first hurt his feelings while you had gone costume shopping. 

Namjoon and you looked at each other shortly, both of you sensing it. 

“Is everything-”

“Well, it looked like you were,” Jimin mumbled, accidentally interrupting Namjoon. He waited for Jungkook to budge and cave under his gaze, but when he wouldn’t, he shrugged. “Come sit.”

Maybe he could feel your burning gaze on him, but Jungkook finally glanced in your direction. If only for a second, so very brief. But it dug into your heart and split it open, gutted you and left you utterly empty. You had seen him just yesterday, picked out your dress together, parted ways this morning a few hours ago, and now he seemed like another person. He looked so sad, sad in a way you hadn’t seen before. You didn’t think that any emotion close to that had ever crossed his features, not in your presence at least. It was so new and surprising to you—because somehow in your mind, you had forgotten he had the ability to feel… upset—you froze.

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” Jungkook said, nailing that same smile back onto his lips as before. “But I’ll see you guys around.”

And before any of you could protest, he was gone, back turned to your table and heading into the crowd. 

“Well, that was… weird,” Chaeyoung said, pointing out the elephant in the room. And as if she had said your name, everyone turned to you for some kind of answer.

You blinked back at them. “Yeah, I-I don’t know.”

There was another beat of silence before ultimately your friends shrugged.

“Maybe it’s just not a good day?” Hoseok proposed, and they were all quick to agree, moving on. And though you didn’t voice it, you knew it wasn’t that. It couldn’t just be that. 

You knew it was about you. It had to be.

find it here

#jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #bts scenarios #bts x reader #bts angst #bts fluff #linh.preview

[getodrools]

your toji really does something to me. the big mean gruff guy that he is, not even caring if you turn to a whiny mess is just top-tier. i was wondering what's your take when possessive-ish (and slightly insecure) bf toji found out you're using sex toys (dildos, vibes and suckers) whenever he's not around ;p thank u sm and i hope u have a wonderful day ahead <333

໒꒰ྀ ྀིᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ ohhgossh i’m glad it does winkwink honestly, any possessive but insecure asshole like toji is HARD on the mind omffghh especially as big as he isss makes it so scarily hot (¬////¬)… newaays ! i hope you have sparkles n’ only sunshine today ml ! ! thankuu <3

꒰ ୨ NEVER BETTER! ୧ ◞ T. FUSHIGURO ꒱

ᡣ𐭩 warnings. mdni | f! reader | pwp, usage of dildos + vibrators on reader, anal !!!!, overstimulation, masturbation ( reader ), size difference, degrading, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, tongue pulling, finger sucking, no prep ish, creampie, humiliation. ( wc. 2.6k+ )

TOJI IS ALL MORE than just confident that your needs are beyond filled – especially how heavily you sleep when he's getting ready for work; the way you sprawl out so peacefully with a soothed face from the night before… A night of stuffing and tight, burly positions that folded you into two.

Practically glowing!

He admires the way you drift off, pecking right at that pretty head he knows is lost in dreams right before he steps out…

Confident he did damn good fucking you...

But the way you — now, nibble at your bottom lip from the pressure of a pink dick squeezing past tight walls, he'd think you wouldn't be moaning just as loud as you would with his real pink dick!

. . .

“Does this mean something?” Your heart not only throbs as hard as your clit does, but the mix of covert ecstasy and shock does not settle well in the pit of your tummy.

Your eyes snap wide towards a particular man sauntering against the bedroom doors frame — forgetting today was only a meeting, not his usual dozen missions that takes hours beyond… And now as your eyes tremble, watching each other again a lot earlier than you had expected, clearly, you try hard to muster something up.

“Toji! I… I was just—” You fumble.

The irritant rumble was deep in his throat as he parted his lips before you could embarrass yourself some more, “What're you now… some cockhungry whore?” The way his voice had dropped more than just an octave had you coward; legs tweezing back together to slowly pop the toy out as if he couldn't already see the puddle seeping in the sheets…

“No no, keep that in you since you seem to be so needy.” His shock was just as pounding. But the blank slate ridden across his face seemed to be more of shame, even his posture was stiff. Almost like the thick poll hard in his confines, but the way he crossed his arms over their stacked muscles was threatening.

Was he warning you?

Don't say anything dumb, “… I missed you…”

“Really? Or do you miss having something in you, huh?” He sounds more repentant than angry, “‘Cause… that, is nothing like me.” His finger waves around in a circle.

The shroud of his features hardened like clay above his feelings. Though you never caught sight of them much, you can tell he was… off about this. Not knowing exactly how to feel, seeing his pretty girl stuff herself with a fake dick when he's only one call away made his chest ache with a broken ego… His eyes grew darker – like jungle trees in rain, not the evergreens you always admired and it made you tremble.

But in the moment, your legs opened back up as shame was swallowing you whole. Listening in faint hope he'd spare a sort of mercy…

His shoes click.

One, two, three steps he was already filling up the bed and was reaching for your legs.

Slapping them apart, too slow for what he'd asked for, “Do you need every hole stuffed? Is that what I made you out to be? Hm?” Toji tries to play it off, watching how it began to slip out from the pressure of your tight, slippery walls.

It was a bit smaller in length, and of course, the bright pink was far off from his usual tanned base and flushed tip. Other than that, the veins and girth seemed to fill you just right how he does…

Toji clicks his tongue, “This thing really makes you feel good… too?” Your eyes shake, too embarrassed now.

You nod your head, “But it's nothing compared to you…”

“Oh, I know.” But gazing at the wet slop your pussy gushes out with still, even teased by just a flimsy — dumb toy… he was feeling otherwise.

His palm tracks up your foot and to your thigh, traveling between the sweet heat of your legs ‘till he reached the suction part of the dildo. You wince soon as the toy plunged back up, filling your pussy with ease as Toji carefully watches your reactions.

Just the same. Damn.

“Toji... I promise…” Your knees clink together, but his body forcing them apart denied your retreat.

“Tch, I know that thing doesn't make you feel that good. You're just bored.” He soothes himself and ignores the other buzzing toy laid next to you too, for now…

Maybe his tongue may not work as fast as those crafts, or maybe his dick may not have multiple functions that could whirl and vibrate but he damn well was not about to be outclassed like this. Outclassed by something fake!

He had to prove a point.

He's a real man, and those are just frauds.

You didn't keep track, but his pants had already been tossed somewhere followed by his shirt.

Nibbling at your bottom lip, “You're always busy…” and his own parts, “And?”

And? Your brows hook in, “I can't just call you when you're in the middle of business...”

“Ah, making excuses now? It's o.k that you're a needy cock thirsty slut–– no need to deny it.” Toji smacks his lips, dismay was written all over him, “So, I’ll give you exactly what you seem to want so badly, ‘n maybe, that'll calm your rabbit ass down.” He was just jabbing at you left and right, it was a roller coaster of humiliation and twisted pleasure.

Your head falls back, groaning into the palms of your hands as the man fell to your body – his cock now off its leash and clanging between his thighs like a church bell. Feeling him rub closer to you, your pussy oozes and clenches around the thick rubber lodged up in you, creating a mess of goo to slime down the crack of your ass.

It was enough muck and glisten to shine his bulbous pearl; smearing the hard cap around the stream – teasing you. Teasing that perk hole that was still too tight to stick a measly finger in, a hole that was left untouched and clearly wasn't plugged up – clearly how you desperately so needed to be…

“I'll make sure your nice n’ stuffed, baby, that's what you want, right? Heh.” And with that followed by a grunt, your eyes snap wide and knock back. Toji held at your waist with a tight hold, keeping you down as you twisted in sodden bliss.

Gasping, “Toji!” and drawing out the syllables with a loud hiss. Your moans trailed off in a low whisper of pure adoration, “Ohmygod.” Your little rim hole formed an inviting seal, and you were set right against the base in a swift thrust. Aching at the long, throbbing mast - your ass squished down on his hardness with enough pressure to keep him practically trapped. He winced too as he watched with wide eyes when his strong pelvis knocked into the dildo... Forcing the toy to ram further up into you in reverential lust.

Oh. Fuck.

Two dicks? One man? His thoughts light up, a wry smirk now plastered wide. Maybe… he did like this… His hand had left a deep mark in your thighs, catching it soon as he reached for the whirling pink, strawberry-sized replacement beside you.

“Huh, this thing goes fast.” Still lodged in you, he was inspecting it and you were inspecting him. Cursing beneath your breath, he was trying to bully you out of his own damn insecurityes!

A big man with a broken ego is not a good mix.

Toji presses the vibrator right against your puffy clit, making tenfold of the pleasure throbbing up your brain. It was like your function to speak was fully cut off; all points of sensitive bits were being toyed with ‘till they bulged out in aching bliss. Your clit was already puffy as is, the session he caught now becoming more swollen as he crushed that toy between your bundle of nerves, pussy stretched wide with another toy as your perk hole was being rammed with a mean man's cock…

Your mouth seemed full with moans, but looked empty in his eyes, “Don't you start whinnin', thought you wanted to be all plugged up?” His hand is rough against your face, squeezing the fat in your cheeks until your lips sucked in his fingers; one, two, and three hooked down your throat.

“Or is this too much? Can't handle what you thought you could?” Bullying your poor holes, he lets out a hearty chuckle, “You ain't no big girl.” Those tears of pleasure lusting down your ridden cheeks and shinning down his forearm sure did express that.

Toji did not expect to go this far. But watching how you gagged around every inch of him hiked something up his spine. A sort of sick pang. And it made his cock grow an inch harder, throbbing deeper up your perk little hole, nearly worming up to your guts…

Toji was quick with his motions; hips jackhammering a cruel rhythm into your ass, and at each killing strike, the silicone cock slid back and forth. The tight pressure of your wet pussy slid it out only for his working hips to ram it back in all in sync. All walls, gummy and soft, rubbing around thick slabs of hard meat, fake or not, your mouth still drooled between his digits like so.

Moans bubbled into spit; purely messy and sticky all around. Just filthy.

“You really are a cock whore.” His brows raise, catching how you twitched beneath him.

Your high was itching close, feeling it rock in your core as soon as Toji’s hips bucked widely. But Toji knew that face, even though half was being squeezed into his palm, he saw that very shine he so adored.

You whine out; your tongue was pinched between his pointer and thumb, “I don't think so.” His body stills, yet yours spasms in wanton need.

You wanted to scream his name, but the mean clip at the point of your tongue only slobbed out a mess when you tried. Defeated. You can't win against him! When he wants to prove a point, you will get the point, and it was aching soon as you recognized this deal.

“I'm still upset with you.”

Asshole.

Your legs fall from the sky. Limp and full – as much as you had thought you could be… Toji only played fair with himself, letting his own high rock out from his tight orbs throbbing up ‘till they released from the pent pressure.

Lodged in your ass, it was warmer than usual. You could feel how his cock throbbed powerfully, swelling and pushing aside the fleshy walls surrounding him, and he was undone with a quick sodden push. He grunted loud and kept his hooded eyes locked with yours needy doe ones – teasing you, bullying you.

As he shoved his hips up, he made sure you felt him and the first jet of cum spiraled upwards like a geyser, splattering a full can of white paint across. Your perk hole clenched from the sticky ropes of cum slathering deep – no way it'd bubble out the way his hips clamped into yours. Even the rubbery dick stuck in your pussy was deeper than you could imagine.

Another rope ran out his turgid cock, still working a rhythm that could churn it thickly inside of you… Doused in white gunk, the glowing man stilled. Keeping you plugged up, Toji tilts his head and eyes you up and down, admiring the beads of sweat rolling across those pretty peaked mountains of flesh.

“Needa get something for those tits next time. Or was that enough for a while–– Satisfied now?” He snorts and you snort back up the snot threatening to glob down your chin… more than satisfied. It was a damn new world you just explored and you couldn't help but imagine what's on the other side. Hoping you'd get to cum all over him, if he'd play nice…

He sighs catching that sick flicker in your eyes but leans close to your shivering frame that's all more than ready to give out if you dared…

<– BACK: PINNED ꪆৎ NEXT: MORE TOJI –>

#🌐 𝐿𝒜𝒱𝐼𝐼 𝒲𝑅𝐼𝒯𝐸𝒮! #ᝰ toji fushiguro! #toji smut #toji x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk toji #toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro #tw dacryphilia #tw overstimulation #tw size difference

[theflowerrooms]

hi petal! i've got an idea if you're still looking for requests c:

-imagine the squad goes camping but there was a miscommunication/error in booking and steve ends up having to room with eddie & the reader.

-he's already annoyed about having to third wheel but also bc he knows theyre always going at it.

-one night, he went to bed earlier than the group.

-by the time eddie & reader get to bed, they assume he's fast asleep but they were kinda loud coming into the cabin so he stirs awake.

-once they're in bed, they start messin around and eventually have sex, not caring about how loud their being bc they still think steve is asleep when really he's wide awake like O.O

(i'll leave it up to you whether or not steve gets himself off to them doin it but part of me feels like he has a voyeurism kink heehehe)

to request • eddie’s masterlist • steve’s masterlist • main

Wide Awake

Eddie Munson x Reader, x Steve Harrington (slight)

Summary: on a trip with friends, Steve ends up rooming with Eddie and you, the token sex addicts as he’s lovingly called you. He goes to bed early and you and Eddie calling soon after, thinking he’s fast asleep when you two start messing around

I seriously loved writing this so much! Thank you for the request! I’m a big fan of Steddie x reader and I’ve really been wanting to write more with Stevie <3 thank you! Love, Petal

wordcount: 2k

Warnings: smut, slight dubious consent, swearing, penetrative sex, voyeurism (Steve can hear reader and Eddie going at it), exhibitionism (Eddie and reader are definitely getting off on it, praise, slight humiliation?

He should’ve been the one to call and book the rooms. Maybe then they would’ve gotten four rooms with one bed each instead of two rooms with two beds each. Steve glared at you and Eddie across the fire pit, cozied together. Your face was buried into Eddie’s neck as you laughed at something Robin said. He didn’t hate you or Eddie, in fact, he loved you both immensely, his best friends. What he hated was the fact that you were always on each other. A constant reminder of how he was alone when the two of you looked happier than anyone had been before. It didn’t help that Steve had a thing for the both of you before you started dating.

Steve watched as Eddie’s hand slipped from your waist to your thigh, gripping it tightly and pulling you closer to him. He watched as your lips found Eddie’s pulse point, leaving nothing more than a gentle kiss, but it was enough to let Steve know you two were about to be interested in more than friendly kisses and lingering touches.

That was his cue to leave, go to bed and fall asleep before he got stuck listening to you two go at it.

He said his goodnights to everyone and all but ran to the room he’d soon be sharing with you and Eddie. His bed was cold and comfortable, but he was bitter and annoyed, and the cold only reminded him that there was nobody else to warm his bed with him. He hadn’t laid there long before he’d almost fallen asleep, resting on his side and blanket up to his chin as he faced the wall. His drowsiness was quick to leave him when he heard the door swing open and close.

"Shh- shut up, Steve's sleepin'." He heard you giggle, Eddie giggling in response. The corner of his mouth quirked up in a slight smile at your tipsy laughs, you sounded like you'd each been drinking. He knew it hadn't been more than a beer each; You and Eddie were just drunk on each other.

He heard Eddie's heavy footsteps as you led him over to the bed. He could hear you both falling onto the mattress and he was immediately grateful that the beds weren't squeaky, so at least he'd not have to listen to that.

  He listened to you giggle and Eddie shush you. "Keep your pretty mouth shut, don't wanna wake up Steve." Eddie rasped. Steve could tell by his playful tone that he didn't really care if they woke him up or not.

  The room soon filled with the sounds of you and Eddie kissing, clearly sloppy and rushed. Steve's face started to heat up with a deep blush that he was too embarrassed to acknowledge. And as your breath started to grow heavy with a soft sigh against Eddie's lips, Steve began to consider that maybe being stuck in a room with you and Eddie wasn't such a bad thing.

  "Get this off baby." Eddie mumbled, mouthing breathily at your neck. You whispered something that Steve couldn't really hear, but he did hear his name. "Baby, it's fine, we'll be real quiet. If Harrington wakes up he can deal, or go sleep with the girls, it's fine." Eddie assured you, pecking kisses over his shoulder. Steve wanted to be irritated with Eddie for not caring to respect that maybe Steve didn't want to chance hearing you both fuck, but… Steve wasn't so mad about it, more excited than he was able to admit. It wasn't like he hadn't thought about Eddie and you like that before. He wasn't upset that he'd get to hear it this time.

  Eddie was quick to help you get your shirt off. Steve could hear him kiss down the column of your chest, hear your shirt drop to the floor and he could even hear the zipper of your shorts before they hit the floor too.

“Fuck you’re so pretty.” Eddie groaned under his breath. Steve had to stop himself from turning to look for himself. He’d never seen you wearing less than a bikini, but that was enough for him to imagine. He didn’t have to see you to know that he already agreed.

Eddie kissed your sternum and unclasped your bra, letting you slide it off yourself as he let his hand fall to your cunt, rubbing slow, teasing circles over your panties. “Eddie, please.” You tried to whisper, but the unsteady and loud whimper that followed your words defeated the purpose of you whispering in the first place.

Your voice was darker, so sweet and needy, and that was it before Steve could feel him growing hard in his sweatpants. He heard Eddie’s taunting laugh and more whimpers from you that got him fully hard. He desperately wanted to turn and look at you, to reach down and palm himself, but he wouldn’t.

“Gonna let me taste you baby?” Eddie rasped, leaving more wet kisses on your stomach as he slid your underwear down your legs. Steve felt conflicted. He was excited at the possibility of getting to hear Eddie go down on you, frustrated that he couldn’t watch, and jealous that he didn’t get to have his mouth on you. Or even have Eddie’s mouth on himself.

You tugged Eddie’s hair to pull him up closer to you, and the groan he let out made Steve’s cock twitch. “Not right now, need you so bad, please.” Your voice shook and Steve exhaled, careful not to be too loud. He heard Eddie’s shirt hit the floor, then the zipper of his jeans. Steve wondered if he was stripping himself, or if you were helping him.

He stopped thinking about that the second he heard you gasp and sigh. He couldn’t be sure as he wasn’t able to see, but he imagined Eddie pushing his cock into you, bottoming out. He wondered how wet you were, and how deep Eddie was inside of you. He wanted to see so bad, but he was grateful to be able to hear the soft sounds you let out.

“Jesus… how are you always so fuckin’ tight? Feel so good angel.” Eddie’s voice was shakey, keeping his voice down for Steve’s sake. Unbeknownst to you both, Steve desperately wanted Eddie to speak up, wanted you to let yourself be louder.

As Eddie started moving faster in and out of you, you both stopped paying much attention to your volume. Eddie breathed heavily, and quiet moans were pushed out of your lips with each thrust of his cock. Steve could even hear your cunt, hearing just how soaking wet Eddie made you.

Steve’s cock was aching against his pants, and he just had to do something. Obviously he couldn’t jerk off right there: You’d stop if you knew he was listening. He shifted so that instead of laying on his side, he was on his stomach, giving him the perfect opportunity to press his hips against the mattress. He could gain some friction and alleviate some of the pressure from being so hard and not being able to do anything about it.

He nearly cursed at himself, the noise of him moving alerted you and Eddie. You both stopped, looking over at him to gauge whether or not he was awake. After a few moments of tense silence, Eddie started fucking you again, harder than before and catching you off guard. You whined, so loud and beautiful, and Steve couldn’t help but rhythmically roll his hips into the mattress. He had to bite down on his lip to keep himself quiet.

“Eddie-” His name fell from your lips, caught somewhere between a warning for him to slow down, or a plead for him to give you more. Steve didn’t think you were sure what you wanted.

“What’s the matter baby? Don’t wanna wake up Stevie?” Eddie asked teasingly and you hummed in agreement. “Awe, you don’t want Steve to see how well you take my cock? Don’t want Steve to see how fuckin’ pretty you look getting fucked?” He groaned and Steve almost groaned in return. Eddie’s words were doing just as much for him as they were for you, then the broken whine that came out of your mouth had Steve realizing the likelihood of him cumming in his pants like some desperate kid.

“Y’know what? I think you want him to see you. With the way you’re fuckin’ tightening up every time I say his damn name? God, fuck-” He fucked you harder, nails digging into the meat of your thighs, but it only spurred you on. He hit your g-spot over and over again, and you bit down on the junction between his neck and shoulder to try and quiet yourself. It was no use; you were still moaning desperately and Steve could hear every bit of it loud and clear. Each broken whine and whimper from your lips was bringing him closer and closer to an orgasm, just like Eddie’s cock was doing for you.

“Fucking- damn it, feel so good. Gonna cum baby? Are you gonna cum on my cock right next to Steve? Such a slut, fuckin’ love you” Eddie moaned, his thrusts were growing sloppier and sloppier and Steve could hear it.

“Love you- I- need to cum Eddie.” Your sweet voice was heavy with tears of pleasure, and simultaneously, you and Steve felt the pulsing in your lower stomachs, warning you of your orgasm.

“C’mon, so good for me, cum for me. Be a good slut and cum for me.” Eddie’s voice was thick and raspy, but sweet and loving. It guided you to your orgasm and you moaned loudly as you arched your back and came on his cock. At the same time, at Eddie’s demand, Steve came as well, his jaw hanging open in a choked back, silent moan as he filled his sweatpants with cum.

Eddie’s hips stuttered against yours and he came too, groaning loudly. A whiny moan that you loved to hear as he fucked his cum inside of you. “Fuck- s’good for me.” He mumbled, kissing your forehead as he stilled inside of you.

Steve rested there quietly, as quietly as he could manage. He listened to Eddie pull out of you and lay next to you, kissing the skin of your shoulders softly. Steve heard the blankets moving around as Eddie pulled them up over your shoulders for you.

“Thank you.” Your voice was sweet and sleepy, still heavy with that post orgasm haze. You thanked Eddie again, kissing his jaw. Steve wanted to thank him too, he wished he’d be able to replay everything he’d heard in his head over and over for the rest of time. He hoped you would do the same the next night. He’d make sure you ‘accidentally’ had to share a room with one another again. “Goodnight.” Steve smiled to himself as he heard your sweet voice, so loving and pretty. He heard you and Eddie kiss for a moment again and then he heard you shuffle closer to your boyfriend, burying your face in his neck. He was willing to bet you looked so cute.

Eddie yawned himself, “Goodnight baby.” He littered kisses over the crown of your head and Steve listened. He began to grow frustrated and jealous again, wishing he had someone to kiss him, to hold him. He wanted to scold himself for being so bitter about you and Eddie being happy together. You both deserved it after all; Steve just wanted to be happy, and he liked you both so much.

Finally, as Steve came back to himself after coming down from the post-orgasm high, he chewed his lip anxiously. What kind of creep not only listens to his friends have sex with each other, but gets off to it as well? The cold, wet stain in his pants began to grow uncomfortable as he began to grow guilty. What would you think if you knew? What would Eddie think? He was sure Eddie would want to knock his teeth out if he knew. Finally, he was interrupted from his anxious thoughts by Eddie’s voice.

“G’night Steve.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #petalwrites #smut #steddie x reader #steddie #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve stranger things #steve x eddie #steve harrington #steve x reader #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie x fem!reader #requested #eddie x reader #eddie munson x you smut #eddie stranger things

[quin-ns]

Matchmaker (Joel Miller x Reader)

Word count: 1.8K

Summary: ellie knows joel has feelings for you and proceeds to annoy him relentlessly about it

Tags: basically just all fluff, humor, age gap, ellie being ellie and messing with joel, mutual pining, love confessions (more of a realization but whatever), friends to lovers implied, ellie is a great wingman

Request: anon: “It would be so cute to have Ellie basically shipping Joel and the reader, like her being a little matchmaker. If you chose to write this do with it what you want that’s all I got. Would love to see what you do!”

A/N: this was actually my first time writing for joel while having ellie play a part and I gotta say it was super fun! I really loved this idea <3

cross-posted to ao3 • tlou masterlist • writing masterlist

“You are so,” Ellie argued, a cocky grin on her face as she taunted Joel from his side.

“I’m not,” he grumbled back, not wanting to be on this topic with Ellie. 

The kid had gotten the idea in her head that Joel had feelings for you. Thing was—she wasn’t wrong. But Joel had yet to tell you and he didn’t need Ellie blabbing or pestering him about it.

But Ellie was Ellie, so the latter was exactly what she was doing. It had been a while now and he couldn’t get her to quit it. Denying it wasn't going to work it seemed.

“You’re definitely into her. I won’t say the L word again, but you’re not fooling anyone. You’ve got, like, heart eyes for her, dude,” Ellie pointed out. “God—how did I not notice before?”

“Drop it,” Joel told her. You were walking ahead of them, curiosity driving you to increase your pace. You weren’t that far because Joel could still see you—he would’ve been too worried if he couldn’t—but you were far enough ahead that thankfully you couldn’t hear Ellie clearly. Still, he didn’t want to risk it.

After everything that had happened, he couldn’t risk a strain being put on your relationship. Not when you and Ellie were all he had in the world right now. You all had bigger things to worry about, like the fact that the winter was growing harsher as you were heading north.

“She probably likes you too,” Ellie commented, sounding awfully sure of herself. “I mean, there’s gotta be a reason she’s put up with you this long.”

Joel let out a scoff. “You’re not gonna let this go, are you?” 

Ellie shrugged. “I will if you tell her.”

Joel shot her a confused look, a slight frown on his lips and his eyebrows furrowed. “Why do you care so much?” he asked accusingly. 

“Because I like you, and I like Y/N, and I think it’s nice you make each other happy,” Ellie explained easily. “Plus, you’re less grumpy with her and that’s pretty refreshing,” she threw in the slight jab at the last minute. It’s not like it was false.

Joel just made a sound, like a “hmph,” and looked back ahead. His eyes landed on you. As if you could sense it, you looked over your shoulder and threw him a reassuring smile. 

A smile of his own tugged at Joel’s lips. 

“See?” Ellie spoke up. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about.”

The smile faded into an annoyed expression as he looked back at Ellie. She was just smirking to herself, like she’d busted him or something. 

She stared up at him for a moment, then looked back ahead. “You’re just grouchy because I’m right,” Ellie sassed. She didn’t need to look at Joel to see his eye roll. 

They walked in silence for about a minute. During that minute, Joel was relieved. He didn’t feel the need to discuss his inner thoughts and feelings about you with someone that wasn’t you. As far as he was concerned, his love for you was none of Ellie’s business and wouldn’t even be yours until the time was right.

He was going to tell you. Eventually. Maybe it was taking him longer than he thought because of how complicated things had gotten on the journey, but he’d find the time. Soon… if he could work up the nerve to.

There were moments where Joel saw a spark there, between the two of you. And apparently he wasn’t as good at hiding his feelings as he thought, so maybe on some level you knew and even reciprocated. If Ellie thought there was something there, than maybe—

“All I ask is that can you not do it near me if you guys want to have se—”

“Ellie!” Joel snapped, cutting her off. 

Because of the sudden loudness, you halted and turned around. “Everything okay?” you called back to Joel and Ellie, concern present in your voice.

“We’re fine!” Ellie shouted back and gave you a thumbs up. 

Joel didn’t say anything, still thrown off. He had not been expecting her to go there and really, really was in desperate need of a change of topic with the fourteen year old. He gave her a look, silently telling her to knock it off.

“What?” Ellie asked defensively, but also clearly very amused with herself. “It’s a valid request.”

“Knock it off,” Joel said out loud this time instead of just thinking it like before. 

“Fine,” Ellie feigned defeat. She fiddled with the straps on her backpack, gripping them in her gloved palms. Then, she took off in a light jog. 

“Where are you going?” Joel yelled after her.

“I’m gonna bother Y/N now!” she called, not looking back. Ellie caught up to you and slowed her pace. Joel didn’t know if he should be worried or not, but he hung back anyway. 

“Hi,” Ellie greeted you when you noticed her presence. She was kinda hard to miss.

“What’s up, Ellie?” you asked kindly, giving her a once over. “Everything okay?” you glanced back at Joel and found he was fine too. 

“Yeah, yeah, everything is fine,” Ellie assured. “Just thought I’d check on you.”

“You’re checking on me? I’m touched,” you told her with a hint of sarcasm overlaying your appreciation. Ellie didn’t do much without a reason and between her and Joel’s muffled argument behind you and the devious little smirk on her face, you suspected she was up to something. “Seriously, what’s up?”

“What do you think of Joel?” Ellie questioned vaguely.

You laughed a little. “That sounds like a loaded question,” you commented.

“Huh?” She furrowed her brows, not getting the term. “I mean like, do you like him?” she clarified. 

Another laugh from you. So you were right. “Of course I like Joel. What kind of question is that?” you wondered. “He’s my friend, has been for a long time.”

“Okay but, like, do you think he’s handsome?” Ellie pried bluntly, looking up at you for your reaction. You were a little taken aback, then amused.

“Where is this coming from?”

“Just… curious,” she lied. Ellie looked over her shoulder at Joel briefly. “So, do you?” 

Ellie looked up at you and found you glancing back at Joel yet again. A small smirk appeared on your face. You leaned down a little and whispered to her, “Of course I do. I’m not blind.”

Ellie laughed at that, enjoying the feeling of gossiping a little more than she realized. You were going along with it—you were always a good sport. 

“Do you think you’d date him?” Ellie pushed, seeing how much she could get away with in this ‘girl talk’ scenario.

Ellie considered you a close friend at this point, something she never had that many of. Sure Joel was a friend too, but he was also like a dad. And there was just something special about having a girl friend that she could talk to. While with Joel she usually had to annoy him into talking about life stuff (a few minutes ago being an example), you would be open to the conversations just because. You didn’t treat her like a kid despite being older—probably because you were closer to her age than Joel’s anyway.

That’s why if you liked Joel, Ellie wanted you to know that he did too. Even if she gave Joel a hard time and sometimes (but very rarely) did the same to you, you both deserved to be happy. 

“What do you think?” you turned the question. 

Ellie shrugged. “I know he’s kinda old and kinda grumpy, but he’s a good guy,” Ellie campaigned on Joel’s behalf. “He cares about you a lot.”

You smiled to yourself. “Yeah, I know,” you admitted. “I care about him too. A lot.”

“As more than just a friend?” Ellie needed to know, the anticipation was killing her. 

She didn’t know when she suddenly got so invested in your and Joel’s relationship status. Of course because she cared about you both, but she could also blame it on the months of boredom. Finally something interesting was happening. 

And what you said next was definitely interesting.

“Yeah,” you revealed with a little nod. “For a while now.”

There was a light smile on your face that made Ellie smile too.

Ellie looked over her shoulder at Joel once again and her gaze met his. She wondered what he’d say if he heard what you had just said. She didn’t think he did because he looked suspicious, silently asking her what she was doing. She looked back forward. Oh boy, if only he knew.

“That’s interesting,” Ellie mused. “Because I happen to have some information.”

You raised your brows at her, hearing the knowing tone laced heavy in her voice. “Oh?”

Joel couldn’t take not knowing anymore. You and Ellie had both kept looking back at him—definitely talking about him. He picked up the pace a little, not really jogging but more like speed walking. You and Ellie had slowed your pace a little before, caught up in conversation, so it didn’t take him long to place himself on your opposite side.

“How’s it goin’ up here?” Joel asked as casually as he could manage, drawing attention to himself. 

Ellie moved to walk backwards in front of you and Joel. She didn’t miss a step as she eyed you both. 

“Good news, Joel,” Ellie addressed him cheekily. “She likes you too.”

His eyes went wide. Ellie just bit back a laugh and left it at that, turning on her heel and picking up the pace to get ahead of you two. She stayed in line of sight, but out of the strangling zone (she wasn’t actually worried, but she knew she was being a menace so she kept a distance). Not a far enough distance to be out of earshot, though. 

She had to hear this after all her work.

“So,” Joel started flatly. He looked down at you just as you looked at him. Then you both turned your heads straight forward and kept walking in tandem. “I guess I should ask what she said?”

“Well, she was asking me a lot of questions about how I felt about you,” you recalled, sounding very entertained by the whole situation. “Kinda had a feeling for where it was going.” 

Joel heaved out a dramatic sigh. “Kid’s not subtle, is she?” he asked rhetorically. You both knew the answer to that.

You laughed. “Not at all.” 

The sound of you laughing and your words made Joel relax. He let a chuckle fall past his lips. 

Ellie looked back at you and Joel, the sound of you two laughing together making her smile. 

“Oh look, she’s staring at us,” you pointed out, nodding your head at her. Ellie whipped her head back around as if trying to pretend she hadn’t been watching you two. “Did we really just get set up by a fourteen year old?”

Joel scoffed out an amused sound. “Yeah, I think we did.” 

joel taglist: @the-ice-frozen-ground-red-rose @dontphunkwithmylove @cilliansangel @amethystwonders11 @frogsmuahh037 @andy-rocks @melllinaa @alitaar @melanie451 @b00kw0rmsworld @reverieisaway

if you would like to be added to the joel taglist just send me an ask or a message!

#quin-ns writing #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #ellie williams

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Honey Girl. Chapter Four.

Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Five. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Chapter Synopsis - You and Bucky deal with the fallout of Cora's reveal. What's that saying? If you love something, let it go...

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend! Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - cursing. angst. alcohol consumption.

Word Count - 5k

Author's Note - i can only apologise that this chapter took a little while!! my life is at a super weird place rn, so i'm just trying to find the time when i can. words cannot describe how incredible all of your support is for Honey Girl. the fact you all reblog and comment and send me asks means the world to me. love you all so much.

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

You can't breathe.

It's like all of the oxygen has been sucked out of the air, leaving it dry, brittle, sterile. Your lungs are burning, scratched like sandpaper. The backyard is spinning, like teenagers at a roller rink - all flashing lights and endless rotations.

You haven't taken your eyes off of Bucky, and he hasn't taken his eyes off of you. If you were thinking more logically, you'd probably realise that you've been staring at each other for too long, and it's starting to look a little suspicious. You don't care.

Your ears are ringing. It's like there's been an explosion, and you're scattered amongst the debris. Smoke, flames, rubble. A catastrophic detonation in your parents backyard.

A gentle hand on your shoulder snaps you back to reality. The music is still playing, everyone around the table is still conversing, the house still stands. No explosion here.

"Sweetheart?"

It's your Mom, clearly sensing your distress. She probably thinks you're upset with her, for telling Cora. You are, but that's not what's causing the pain in your chest.

"Come inside with me, baby girl. Let's get away from the noise for a second."

She grabs your hand and pulls you out of your chair, still none the wiser to the magnetism preventing you from breaking your gaze that's locked on Bucky's. She practically drags you inside, the cool air of the kitchen waking you up.

"Sweetheart, I am so, so sorry. Cora overheard the conversation we had earlier. I thought it was good news, so I didn't think to ask her to keep it private."

She looks like she's being eaten alive by guilt. Your bottom lip quivers, your eyes well up, and before you know it, there are warm, salty tears dripping down your cheeks.

"Hey, hey. What's the matter?"

You sit down on the tiled floor, back pressed against the cabinets. Curling your knees to your chest, you try to stifle your sobs.

"Everything's such a mess, Mama."

She drops to the ground, gathering you in her arms. She holds you as tight as she can, rubbing soothing circles into your back and whispering comforting words in your ear. Eventually, she pulls back to look at you.

"What's the matter, baby? I thought Stella's call was a good thing - that you'd be excited to go back to California."

You take a shaky breath before replying.

"It's just... I think - I don't, it's... it's so complicated."

She traces her fingers over your cheeks, your eyebrows, your nose. She dances her fingertips over your face, as if she's committing it to her mind forever. It brings back warm and cosy childhood memories of her doing the same thing to help you sleep. The two of you would snuggle up against all of your pillows in bed, tucked up and safe. She'd lie with you until she was sure you were dreaming, before kissing you on the forehead and sneaking out.

"Talk to me. We can figure it out. We always do."

"It's not that simple. I just... there's a lot going on, I guess. I thought it'd be an easy decision, but it isn't, and it's all I can think about, and it's eating me up because I'm so scared I'm gonna do the wrong thing -"

You cut yourself off with a sob, resting your head on your knees.

"I knew there was something bothering you, sweetheart. Why didn't you come and talk to us? Even if we can't fix it, we can listen."

"I thought I could handle it. I thought I could figure it out on my own."

"You don't ever have to carry stress like this on your own, baby girl. Ever. You hear me?"

You nod and lean into her, letting her rock you in her arms on the kitchen floor.

"I'm sorry again, about Cora. She means well, you know she does."

"I know. Doesn't feel like it sometimes, but I know."

A pause.

"Okay, sweetheart. What are we going to do now? Whatever you decide, we'll support you."

"Your Mom's right," your Dad says from the doorway. "Whatever you choose, we'll be right alongside you. No matter what."

He strides over to join the two of you on the floor, sandwiching you between him and your Mom.

"If you need help packing up and moving, we're here. If you need us to create an elaborate lie to tell Stella, we're here. Either way, you've got us."

You smile at him gently, leaning to rest your head on his shoulder. Regardless of what happens, you have two parents that love you more than anything in the world. That has to count for something.

"You wanna rejoin us outside, or are you too tired? No one will blame you if you go home."

"I think I'll go home," you murmur. "I don't wanna face any more questions for today."

"Bucky's just gone too. Said something about an early morning tomorrow."

You inhale shakily at the mention of his name. You know you'll have to face him sooner or later.

Your Dad stands and grabs your hands to help you to your feet, before doing the same to your Mom. They both hug you tightly before walking you out to the front door.

"Promise me you'll call if you need anything. Anything."

"I promise, Mama. Don't worry about me. I'll be okay."

"Do you want one of us to walk you home?"

"No, it's okay. I think I need the air."

"Love you, baby girl."

"Love you too. Both of you."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You're halfway home when you decide to turn around. You need to talk to Bucky.

It doesn't take you long to figure out where he is. You can feel in your chest that he's close by, that he hasn't strayed far. He hasn't gone home, though. The Universe is pulling you in the opposite direction.

The beach.

You spin on your heel and start walking down the road, picking up pace as you go. You can feel rain in the air, threatening to spill from the clouds at any given moment. Before you know it, you're running, sprinting along the sidewalk in the direction of your soulmate.

You get to the small boardwalk and look out over the sand. The sky is grey as concrete, cold and unforgiving. You spot a figure in a worn brown leather jacket by the shore, and you know instantly. It's him.

You march onto the beach with your shoes still on, wrapping your arms around yourself to act as a shield from the wind. You left your jacket at your parent's house, too eager to get out of there in a hurry. The rain is suspended in the air, never quite reaching the ground. You know it's only a matter of time before the heavens open.

"Bucky!" you yell, practically bounding across the sand. "Buck!"

He doesn't turn because he hears your voice. He turns because he suddenly feels like he can breathe, which he hasn't been able to do for the last hour. He knew you were there before you shouted his name.

"Bucky, please!"

He spins on his heel and stops walking, waiting for you to catch up with him. You're sprinting, panting as you reach him. The ocean waves crash against the shore, dangerously close to his boots.

"Buck, just let me explain," you choke out, trying to catch your breath.

You finally stop running and look at him. He looks broken. His hair looks like he's pulled his fingers through it repeatedly, tear tracks staining his cheeks, lips bitten red. You've never seen him upset like this. It's the worst thing you've ever witnessed.

"There's nothing to explain," he begins calmly, trying to keep a lid on his feelings.

"There is, Buck. There is. I... Cora overheard me confiding in my Mom, telling her about a call I'd gotten, from a classmate at culinary school. It was just an offer - I haven't accepted anything! I never meant for you to find out like this, I swear. It's all just... it's all so fucked up."

He looks at you in disbelief.

"No, you know what's fucked up?" he asks, raising his voice. "Finding out that my soulmate is moving across the country from some alcoholic suburban mom at a dinner party!"

You've never heard him yell before. You don't like it at all. You gather yourself before replying calmly, determined to keep you emotions under wraps.

"I've been trying to find a way to talk to you about it, but I didn't know where to start. How do I even begin to explain any of this?"

"Maybe, I don't know - 'hey, Buck, I got a call and I'm thinking of moving thousands of miles away for my dream job,' would be a good place to start?"

"It's more complicated than that. I was trying to protect you."

"Protect me from what?"

"From blowing your life up for me!"

You stare at each other for a minute, both of you unblinking.

"What are you talking about?" he croaks out.

"You'd drop everything for me, Bucky, and I can't let you do that. You've worked too damn hard to let it all go."

He's dumbfounded, for a moment. Not because he doesn't understand. No. He's realising that you're right.

"I knew that if I told you straight away, you'd have persuaded me to let you come with, and I would have said yes. And then you'd regret it, and you'd resent me, and we'd be over before we've even begun."

When he doesn't say anything, you continue.

"The thing is, Buck, the selfish part of me would have happily invited you along. Me and you, in California, running a bakery? That sounds like a fucking dream. But I have to listen to the other side of me, the selfless part. And that part is telling me that you have worked too damn hard for too damn long just for me to take that all away."

You feel droplets of water on your face, and for a moment, you wonder when you started to cry again. Then, in the deep distance, you hear a crack of thunder. The rain begins to pour, both of you caught in a storm in more ways than one.

"You don't get to make a decision like that for me!" he finally responds, yelling to be heard over the downpour. "We're supposed to talk about these things! To figure them out together! That's what soulmates are - we're a team!"

"I can't think rationally around you, Bucky! It's like all logic goes out the window. I'm just so overwhelmed with-"

You stop yourself before the word comes out, but you both know what you were about to say. He feels it in his ribcage, the surge of emotion from you.

"-with how I feel about you. You're my forever, Buck, and I feel like -" a sob wracks through you, shaking your frame. "-like I've fucked it all up already."

Your tears mix with the rainwater, trailing down your cheeks. You watch as Bucky fights with himself, internally battling his feelings.

"You're not the only one fucking it up," he chokes. "You repeatedly told me we had to take it slow, but I just... couldn't help myself. I've never felt for anyone what I feel for you, and being away from you for even a minute is fucking torture. I moved us too fast, and now look where we are. We've become the equivalent of a married couple in a couple of weeks. No one can handle change that sudden."

"It's not.. none of this is your fault, Buck. I kept something from you, something big. I know it doesn't matter now, but I want you to know how hard it's been to not tell you. It was killing me."

"I felt it," he murmurs shakily, willing himself not to cry. "In my chest. You were so torn up about something, and I just couldn't figure out what it was. I should have pushed you more, but I was worried I'd push you away."

Your lip trembles as you watch him bite his own anxiously.

"I'm so scared, Buck," you whisper. "I feel so lost and so confused and like nothing makes sense."

"Me too," he whispers back, eyes never leaving yours. "I'm fucking terrified. Our worlds have been turned upside down."

"Is it... is it supposed to be this hard? Everyone makes it sound so easy."

"I don't know. Maybe the Universe heard that we were anti-soulmate and decided to be super tough on us. Cosmic karma, or something."

You choke out a laugh through your tears. The rain has plastered your clothes to your body, the salty wind chilling you to the bone. Without thinking, Bucky takes off his jacket and wraps it around you, unable to watch you shiver any longer.

"What now?" you ask quietly. If he wasn't standing so close, he wouldn't have heard it.

"Let's get out of the storm," he suggests, nodding his head towards the path home. "We can talk some more somewhere warmer."

You sniffle and take a deep breath, willing yourself to get it together. Bucky surprises you by linking your hand with his, warm fingers intertwining around yours.

He doesn't let go the whole way home.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Bucky takes you to his house.

You haven't been here since before your Tethering. You walk in the door, and your knees threaten to give way.

It's overwhelming.

Everywhere - everything - smells like Bucky. His scent clings to every fabric, every upholstery, every room. There's pictures scattered across the mantelpiece, his handsome face staring at you wherever you go. The house is warm, cosy, and just so Bucky it makes your heart ache.

You walk over to the fireplace, taking a closer look at the array of frames adorning it. There's one of your parents and Bucky smiling, sat out on his lawn last summer; another of Bucky and his team of mechanics, stood proudly outside his garage. A small black frame catches your eye. You pick it up, and your breath hitches in your chest.

It's a picture of the two of you on the deck of his boat, the day after you found out you were soulmates. The wind is blowing your hair, billowing your shirts, sun beating down on your skin. You're both beaming at the camera, bright and blinding, completely content.

You're holding back tears as you put it back in it's original place.

"My favourite picture," he murmurs from somewhere behind you. "We look happy."

"We were happy," you whisper. Then, quieter, "We will be again."

A pause.

"You want something to drink? Coffee, cocoa? Oh, I have that tea you like, the apple one?"

"You do?"

"Yeah. I, uh, bought some last time I went grocery shopping. In case you stopped by."

"Tea sounds good. Please."

You stay stood in the middle of the living room while Bucky puts the kettle on the stove, worried that your wet clothes will ruin his couch. As if he's read your mind, he pops his head around the door.

"There's a load of fresh clothes folded on top of the dryer. Grab whatever you want, dry off a little."

You wander into the laundry room, sorting through the pile. You find a t shirt with his garage logo on the back in big, white letters.

J.B.B. Motorcycles and Automotives.

The blocky, bold font swirls across the black material. You run your fingers over it, tracing the curves and spikes of the typeface. It's something you've seen him in a million times. You inhale deeply as you slip it over your head, revelling in the way it smells like him. You grab some boxer shorts and slip those on too, glad to finally be warm and dry.

Bucky loses his breath when you walk into the room. He's never seen you in his clothes before, and for good reason. He's about to have a goddamn heart attack.

"Tea is on the coffee table," he chokes out. "I'm gonna change, and then we'll talk, yeah?"

You nod gently, settling into the cushions of his couch and tucking your legs underneath you, mug warming your hands.

When Bucky returns, he's in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie that you want to burrow yourself into. He takes his place, careful to put a little distance between you. Far enough that you're not touching, but close enough that you almost are.

"I'm sorry," you whisper. "I'm not good at this."

"Neither am I," he smiles gently. "It's my first time having a soulmate."

"Mine too," you laugh softly.

It floors you, his ability to always be able to comfort you. It's like a superpower, the way he always knows what to say or do to put you at ease.

"I think we got a little ahead of ourselves," he begins, careful to keep his voice low and deliberate. "I keep forgetting that we have forever. Literally. I was so eager to rush into this with you because I got excited. Don't get me wrong, I'm still ridiculously excited, but I'm realising now that our version of 'slow' wasn't slow at all."

"This whole Tethering thing makes everything so intense. There have been times where I honestly thought I was going to drop dead if you didn't kiss me."

"The feelings mutual," he chuckles.

You lace your fingers with his, never breaking eye contact, before addressing the elephant in the room.

"What am I gonna do about California, Buck?"

Your voice cracks just saying the word.

"Stella needs an answer, and I've upset you, and my parents are clueless, and I just - I don't know what to do. Tell me what to do. Please."

"I can't tell you what to do, honey," he soothes, running his thumb over the back of your hand. "And I'm not upset. I was, in the backyard... but I was mainly just blindsided. I kinda get it, you not telling me. I'm not sure what I'd do in your situation either."

"I just feel like both decisions are wrong. I can't win."

"Hey, hey. Look at me, pretty baby."

Bucky cradles your face in his warm hands, forcing your eyes to meet his ocean blue ones. You have to focus on his words, so you don't get lost in the waves of his irises.

"At the end of the day, it's completely your decision, and no one in the world can change that. But-"

He takes a deep breath, and continues.

"I think that you'll regret it every day for the rest of your life if you don't take the incredible opportunity that's been offered to you."

You take a second to process what he's telling you, your mind running at a thousand miles an hour.

"Are you... you're... are you saying I should take the job?"

"Like I said, it's your decision, but... yes. I'm saying you should take the job."

Your eyes well with tears, and you bite your lip to stop them from escaping. Inhaling carefully, you put your hands on his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat under your palms. He's calm. He's sure. He's collected enough for the both of you.

"What about us?" you ask, barely above a whisper.

"Like you said, baby. I'm your forever." Buck leans in, resting his forehead to yours. "We have time."

"All the time in the world."

You connect your lips to Bucky's softly, testing the waters. He kisses you back with so much feeling, tears slip from your lashes without warning. He's crying too, emotion mixing with yours, dousing you both.

You pull away and wrap your arms around him, curling yourself into his chest. He holds you as tightly as he can, knowing this will be the last time for a long time.

"So you'll go."

"I'll go."

"And I'll stay."

"You'll stay."

"And we'll be okay. No matter what, we'll be okay."

You and Bucky fall asleep in each others arms, cherishing the feeling of home one last time.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The happiness is starting to seep through.

You're devastated to be leaving Bucky behind, but you're trying to look on the bright side. Sunny beaches, new people, your dream job. If you think about the positives for long enough, the Bucky sized hole in your chest hurts a little less.

You're packing up your bookshelf when your phone rings, scaring the life out of you.

"Bitch!"

You know who it is instantly.

"Hi, Lacie."

"Where have you been? Why didn't you answer my text from last night?"

"Shit, sorry. I've been packing. What's up?"

"We're going out tonight. Not just us - all the girls. We're throwing you a goodbye party!"

You groan inwardly, massaging your temples with your fingers.

"A party? Lace, I don't need a party."

"Babe, you do. You really do. It'll be fun! I thought you'd be excited!"

You take a deep breath, and remember what you've been telling yourself. Focus on the positives.

"Okay, fine. Where? What time? What should I wear?"

"I knew you'd say yes! Come to my place at like... six? We can get ready together, like old times! And wear something sexy."

She doesn't wait for you to argue, just hangs up the phone. She knows you too well.

You know it'll be good for you, to see your girlfriends - but the thought of all the goodbyes you're about to say breaks your heart a little more.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Okay, what the fuck is going on with you?"

You're sat cross legged on Lacie's living room floor, sharing makeup that's scattered across the coffee table. You sip your wine for a moment, trying to come up with an excuse. It's no use.

"I don't know."

"Bullshit."

You turn to look at her.

"What?"

"It's bullshit, babe. Something's going on. You've been given your dream job, and you're moping around like you just got broken up with or something. Why aren't you happy?"

There's no malice in her voice, just pure love. She adores you. You adore her. She's the one person with an outsiders perspective on all of this. So, you cut the act.

"I had my Tethering."

Silence.

She's processing.

"What?!"

"Yeah."

"When? Who? Where? How? Oh my God what is happening? Why didn't you say anything? Fuck, I'm gonna cry. I'm so overwhelmed right now, I'm so happy for you! Wait... are we not happy?"

"It's... complicated."

There's a lump in your throat, but a levity in your heart. A weight has been taken off you. Telling someone the truth has made you feel a little lighter.

"Who is it, babe?"

You take a deep breath, and look her in the eyes.

"Bucky."

Her jaw drops.

"Your... your Dad's best friend Bucky?"

"That's the one."

"Oh. My. Fucking. God."

"Yeah."

"Holy shit."

"Yeah."

"This is complicated."

"Yeah."

"Aw, babe."

She pulls you in for a hug, not caring about the makeup you're smearing across her shirt. You cling to her as tightly as you can, savouring your best friends comfort.

"Does anyone else know?"

"No. We decided not to tell my parents for a while."

"Shit. No wonder you've been so sad lately. You're moving across the country, away from the one person you're supposed to be near."

"It's really hard," you whisper, tears threatening to spill.

"I can't even begin to imagine," she murmurs, holding you close. "I wish you'd told me sooner. We could have talked about it."

"I know," you sniffle. "I thought I could handle it on my own, but I really can't."

"You're not on your own, okay? You have Bucky, and you have me. You can always talk to me about this stuff. God knows I talked your ear off about Cameron."

You laugh softly, thinking back to that day that feels both like yesterday and a million years ago.

"Where is he tonight?"

"Out with his boys. It's good for us to spend a few hours apart."

You smile at the happiness that's radiating off her. She's glowing, beaming in all directions.

"Thanks, Lace. I love you. You know that right?"

"Of course I do. I love you too. So much," she leans forward to kiss your cheek. "Now let's have one hell of a last girls night, shall we?"

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You've lost track of exactly where you are.

You know you're downtown somewhere, in one of the bars. This one smells like wood and whiskey, lowlit and smoky. You hit the cocktail bar first, then the one covered in leopard print, then the monochrome pink one. Now, you're here.

The six of you are sat at a booth, high heels tangled and legs intertwined under the table. The wood is sticky with lemon wedges from tequila shots, salt scattered across the surface.

"If you find any hot west coast men, will you send them my way?" Reese asks, nudging you with her shoulder.

"And if you find any hot west coast women, will you send them mine?"

Everyone laughs, the scent of perfume filling the air.

"Rosa, what happened to Aubrey? We liked her!"

"Caught her kissing my ex girlfriend. So now they're both my ex girlfriends."

"Jesus Christ."

"Man, that's rough," Lacie giggles next to you.

The other girls continue to talk about Aubrey's infidelity as Lacie leans to whisper in your ear.

"Have you said goodbye to Bucky yet?"

You nod.

"Yesterday. I stayed the night, we fell asleep together. Said our goodbyes in the morning. It was awful."

"Love you," she whispers, squeezing your hand under the table.

"Love you too," you reply, squeezing back.

"There's a table of super hot guys over there," Maggie observes, tilting her head in their direction. "Maybe we should conveniently dance that way in a little while."

You don't bother to look over, knowing that none of them will compare to your soulmate. The other girls seem interested, though, so you smile along with them.

"Babe," Sam hisses, kicking you under the table. "There's a hot guy at that table, three o'clock, that keeps staring at you."

You glance over, and your heart stutters in your chest.

Bucky.

His blue eyes pierce your soul, even from across the room. For a moment, it's only the two of you, all the noise forgotten.

You're snapped back to reality by Sam.

"Fuck, he's hot. If you don't want him, I do."

"You should talk to him," Lacie suggests quickly. "Why not, right?"

She's practically pushing you out of the booth, high school wrestler style. In another life, you think, she would have made a good football player. All five foot four of her.

You walk past his table, eyes still locked on him, and towards the bathrooms. You know he'll follow you. You walk to the end of the hallway and out of the door, into the fresh night air.

You feel him appear before you see him. You lean your body against the wall, head resting on the cold brick. Bucky stands in front of you, shirt stretched across his shoulders gorgeously.

"Hi."

"Hi, honey baby."

You smile softly at the nickname.

"What are you doing here?"

"I got dragged to a boys night. What are you doing here?"

"I got dragged to a girls night."

He laughs, and all the tension melts from your muscles.

"Thought we said our goodbyes. I didn't think I'd see you again before I left."

"Me too. But you know the Universe. It hates us."

"Cosmic karma," you whisper.

The two of you stand down the alleyway, looking at each other carefully. Neither of you wants to spook the other person. You'd processed your leaving, said your emotional goodbyes. And now he's here, standing in front of you. You don't want to have to do it all again.

"I should probably get back inside, before the girls get the wrong idea."

"Baby, I followed you to the bathroom. They've already got the wrong idea."

You chuckle, kicking at a rock on the ground.

"Yeah. I don't know how I'm gonna explain this."

A smile. A pause.

"I'll let you get back to your friends, then."

You lean up to press a kiss to his stubbled cheek.

"Bye, Buck."

"Bye, pretty girl."

You push off the wall and walk away towards the door. Suddenly, a warm hand wraps around your wrist, yanking you into a solid chest.

Bucky kisses you like a man possessed. There's nothing gentle about it - just pure, unadulterated passion. It's all teeth and tongue and nipping and biting, neither of you willing to be the first to pull away.

He walks you back into the wall, pushing you against the rough brick. You hike a leg up onto his hip as he grabs your thigh to pull you closer, desperate to feel all of you. Your hands are in his hair, around his neck, tangled in his collar, his shirt, his belt loops. Anything you can get your hands on, you grab.

A distant chorus of cheers break you out of your lust fuelled haze. A bachelorette party walks by, one of the women winking at you as they go. You and Bucky take a step away from each other, straightening out your clothes and fixing your hair.

"Promise me you'll call me if you need anything," Bucky murmurs, leaning to rest his forehead on yours.

"I promise," you whisper, almost against his lips. "Goodbye, Bucky."

"Goodbye, honey girl."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The salty ocean wind whips through your hair, sun beating down onto your skin, some upbeat pop song humming from the radio. You keep your eyes glued to the road in front of you, begging yourself not to look back. You know if you do, you'll turn the car around and run straight back into Bucky's arms.

Let the happiness seep through, you remind yourself, gripping the steering wheel.

Let the happiness seep through.

tag list part one -

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