#why is my humor this lame

[rue-bennett]

also the sydney sweeney/glen powell romcom directed by will gluck is gonna be enemies to lovers god bless america

#personal #i don't really like will gluck movies but! i love both of them so fingers crossed they surpass his lame humor #he's OKAY he's just not my cup of tea idk why #it's trying too hard maybe

[wonustars]

𝖫𝗎𝖼𝗂𝖽 𝖣𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆

୨୧ pairing: wen junhui x f!reader ୨୧ word count: 4.4k ୨୧ genre: perv!jun x f!reader, smut (mdni 18+) ୨୧ summary: jun had a secret he's been keeping from you, one that could make or break your year long friendship. out of worry, you visit his apartment, only to discover important items that have been missing from your wardrobe.

୨୧ reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated ♡! tumblr is based on reblogs not likes, and they help writers like me to get better reach. thank you!

୨୧ tags: nonidol!au, uni!au, perv!jun, panty stealer!jun, f!reader, friends2fucking. ୨୧ smut tags/warnings: switch!jun/reader, p in v unprotected sex, cowgirl, slapping, oral (f. receiving), fingering, creampie.

୨୧ note: this was purely made to torment @onlyhuis /lovingly heheh ♡ and becasue she is queen of huihui's :D. i also needed to write a shorter story to get out of my writing slump :p. and a big big ty my mother mars for proof-reading this despite her hectic schedule @onlymingyus 💞🎀

⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ ≽^•⩊•^≼

“Is everything ok, Jun?” you ask your friend, turning to him as he sits so far away from you that you feel like you have to shout for him to hear you. 

He tenses up at your question, pausing to think before answering you. 

"Uh, y-yeah, why?” He stutters. 

“Because every time I come close, you’re always so stiff…” you pout, not liking how far away he is.

You’ve only been friends with Jun for about a year but got along well enough to become closer to each other than the rest of the friend group. He’s shy and a little quiet at first, but once he’s out of his shell, he becomes humorous and very endearing. There was a certain charm that Jun had that made people naturally flock towards him, despite his quiet nature. But even in the year you knew him, he didn’t go on dates or mention anything about a girlfriend. 

The curious being you are, it made you wonder why he never tried to spread his wings and mingle a little bit. Always questions why he brushes off people's advances or fully ignores them when girls are trying to get to know more about him. You decided that maybe he wasn’t ready to date or he was trying to focus more on school.

The two of you spent much time at your apartment, not doing anything in particular. It was either scrolling through Tiktok silently in each other's company, studying, or watching a movie. Today is the latter, a little study session with Jun before playing a movie to wind down. 

Usually, study sessions and movie nights called for cuddles, but today seems to be different. Jun hadn’t been acting himself the whole day and it confused you. 

“No, I think I just got the flu or something, don’t wanna get you sick.” Jun choked out a lame response, not trying to blow his cover. 

There’s a layer of sweat that’s beginning to form on his forehead as he tries to quickly gather his school supplies and bag off your floor. If he were to lift his arms any further up, you would catch his bluff, and his large and very hard bulge covering his oversized sweater.

“W-what?” You ask dumbfoundedly. 

“I’m gonna go home and rest up, I’ll see you later, bye!”

The door shuts before you can get another word in. Jun’s abrupt exit leaves you even more confused than you were before. 

A puff of air leaves Jun’s lips as he leaves your apartment, and he feels a twinge of guilt for leaving like that. But he wasn’t prepared to have you sitting so prettily on your couch, changed into nothing but a tank top and some sleep shorts. The sight of your plump breasts and full thighs caused all the blood from his brain to travel south. 

He knows it’s wrong to look at you that way to yearn for your touch, to feel your plump flesh in his hands. And it's especially wrong to want to fuck you till his cock is the only thing you crave, yet he can’t help it. He can’t help the fact that your figure is like a drug and Jun is insatiable. 

When it comes to you, it becomes very easy to turn him on. You could be doing the most mundane of things, but it’ll still get him going. He can’t help but stare, and he knows it’s bad, but he can’t tear his eyes off you. Today, for instance, your loungewear left nothing up to his imagination, and he was able to see every curve and crevice in what felt like ultra-HD. 

The rise and fall of your breasts through your tank top is what got him, and if it weren’t for his sweater, or the fact the two of you only hang out at your apartment, you would’ve found out about his dirty secret. 

⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ ≽^•⩊•^≼

You would be lying to yourself if you said that you weren’t curious as to why Jun left your apartment so fast. His urgency to escape made you feel like maybe you had done something to upset him, which is the last thing you would want to do. You valued your friendship with him and if something was going on, you wanted to know how to fix it. 

Being the impatient person you are, you didn’t even give him a heads-up before deciding to show up at his apartment unannounced. Although you know it’s a little rude to barge in, it is all for the sake of your friendship with Jun. A friendship that you value a lot more than your other ones. 

Knocking on his door, you call out for him, “Jun! Open up, it’s Y/n, I know you’re in there!” 

There’s shuffling that can be heard behind the door, indicating that Jun is indeed home. But before you could knock on the door further, he opened it up. His eyes are wide, round glasses adorning his face, cheeks flushed like he’s out of breath. 

“Are you ok? You look warm, are you still sick?” You overload him with questions, pushing past the door and placing a hand on his forehead to check his temperature. 

Jun is startled by your sudden touch, but the fact that you’re in his apartment is what alarms him the most. There were too many things in his room that could incriminate him. He isn’t a murderer or anything like that, just a huge fucking pervert. And as far as he could tell, you didn’t know how much of a perv he was for you. 

He had turned into some type of kleptomaniac the moment you were comfortable enough to invite him into your home. Pocketing your stray panties every time you left a pair in the bathroom, just to bring them back to his room. Fucking himself into the cloth as if they were an immediate extension of you. The silk wrapping around his hard length, soiling them with his cum as if it were your body instead. 

The worst part of it all was that he didn’t feel bad for stealing them, justifying his actions by telling himself that it was the only thing to keep him in control of his feelings for you. He didn’t feel any guilt for taking a new pair after they lost your scent or when they were dirty with his cum. 

But having you in his apartment is like having an ice-cold bucket of water thrown over his head. While you were knocking relentlessly at his door, he was pleasuring himself in a pair he had stolen from your home the last time he visited. Placing the lacey pink thong in his sweater pocket when he excused himself to the bathroom. For some reason, you never noticed or were too embarrassed to bring it up with him. From his point of view, you seemed naive enough to think that you had just misplaced them. 

Jun glances behind him to see that he left his room door open by a crack, meaning he just had to make sure you evaded that area entirely. 

“I’m fine, Y/n, it’s late and you should go home,” He encourages, trying his best to usher you back to the door. 

He curses how stubborn you are because his words have done nothing but make you want to stay even longer. Your two feet planted against the floorboards as if they were glued there. Shaking your head with your arms crossed in front of your chest, you simply refuse his request. 

“I’m not leaving till you tell me what’s wrong!” You exasperate, trying to convince Jun to finally tell you why he’s been acting so weird. 

The gulp in his throat is evident, his strong Adam’s apple moving up and down as he watches your crossed arms accentuate the fullness of your breasts. 

“I-Uh-,” He can’t even get a sentence out when your pretty mounds are right in front of his face. 

Jun’s mouth is filling with drool quickly, and his semi-hard member starts to come back to life. Your anger causes your chest to heave up and down and all you can think about is how they would look without all the clothes in the way. Your nipples all perked up and wet from his saliva, he could imagine it all happening now. 

“If I did something to upset you, I’m sorry,” you sigh, taking his bicep in your hand and squeezing it. 

You look up at him through your lashes with an apologetic look and Jun is practically put into a trance. The way you’re staring at him so innocently, as he can only think of you in a lewd way, causes his dick to pulse in his sweatpants. The long white tee he’s wearing hardly covers his bulge, but thankfully you were still staring at him with a small pout on your plush lips. 

“No! You did nothing wrong, trust me, I really wasn’t feeling well,” he assures you. “I just need some rest.” 

“I can take care of you, I don’t know why but I feel like it’s my fault that you’re sick,” you insist, your stubbornness causing Jun’s heartbeat to start to pick up. 

He watches you grab his arm to bring him back to his room and now he’s getting really scared. The pair of your panties he left on his bed is covered in his cum but somehow nothing is stopping you from leaving his side. 

“Please, Y/n, I don’t want you to get sick,” he begs you, but you don’t stop, “And-And my room is a mess right now, please!” 

Jun is beyond flustered now, but you protest harder, not letting his persuasive words get to you. You’re worried about him, and as the good friend you are, you just want to nurse him back to health. 

“C’mon Jun I know you, it’s probably fine,” you sigh, pushing the door to his room open. 

Before you could move a step further, the sight of his room caught you by surprise. Your back bumps into Jun’s chest as you stand there frozen. The pair of pink panties you thought you misplaced sat on top of his comforter, covered in a white and sticky substance. 

You can hear Jun trying to explain himself, stuttering, and also calling out your name, but it's no use. It all becomes background noise as you start to connect the dots. All this time, you thought you were going crazy or were just downright forgetful. All this time you thought your panties were disappearing into thin air, but here they are, piled up on your best friend's desk. Using them, cumming into them, and most likely doing so while thinking about you. 

A part of you is meant to be disgusted, but you can’t help but feel intrigued. Is this why he’s been acting so weird around you? Is this why he never accepts a girl's advances? Because he’s been jacking off to you and stealing your underwear? 

“Jun…” you trail off, the shock is starting to seep in and you’re left just wondering why and how. 

“Y/n I’m sorry,” is all he can say, his large hand cupping your waist as your back is still flushed to his front. 

There’s something hard poking at your lower back, and it takes you a few seconds to realize what exactly is poking you. This pervert has a boner right now, you say to yourself in your head. It feels huge and the thought of him being secretly aroused by this situation is making your cheeks flush. You would be called a liar if you said that you didn’t think about fucking Jun from time to time. But who wouldn’t come across those thoughts once in a while? He’s attractive, kind, thoughtful, and smart. 

You’ve always wondered what would happen if you took your friendship with him to another level, but you didn’t dare risk it. From your perspective, it seemed like he was just too focused on school to date anyone, and that's why he didn’t have a girlfriend. But from the looks of his room, your assumptions were flat-out wrong. 

“I can explain myself, I’m sorry, Y/n,” Jun rambles on, his grip on you becoming tighter by the second. 

“Jun,” you speak out with a stern tone, turning around to face him. 

You watch as his Adam’s apple bobs up and down once more, his cheek flushed knowing he got caught in the act. It makes you wonder how long he’s been doing this and if you’re the only person he’s been like this about. You just had so many questions that are circling in your head it made you dizzy. Dizzy but also buzzing with curiosity and intrigue. 

“Are you a pervert?” you ask him, but you already know the answer. 

“Oh, um– I–” He continues to stutter and you stare him down, and for some reason, his hand won’t leave your waist

His touch is barely there but it’s sending tingles up your spine, especially with him trying to find words to explain himself. 

“This whole time, have you been fucking my panties to the thought of me?” you’re taunting him now, your voice firm. 

His mouth opens for a second only to close again and you can’t help but laugh in his face. The fact that he has the gall to steal your underwear, but can’t get confronted without stuttering is somehow laughable to you. 

On the other hand, Jun is a mess, he can’t seem to find a way to defend his actions. Although he isn’t sure if he can defend himself right now, there's evidence of him doing the most unspeakable of acts against one of his closest friends. 

“If you wanted me, all you had to do was ask,” your voice barely above a whisper as you place one of your hands on his chest. “I can be a pervert too, you know.” 

“W-what?” Jun is shellshocked, your words are barely wrapping around his scattered brain, but his hard-on is pulsing uncontrollably now. 

You’ve barely touched him and he’s already feeling the pre-cum bead at the tip of his cock. 

“If you wanna fuck me, just tell me,” you go on your tippy toes to whisper in his ear, licking slightly at his ear lobe before going back down. 

If Jun is lost in a lucid dream, he doesn’t want to be woken up. The fact that you're standing in his room, offering yourself up to him, already has him losing his mind. The pulse in his cock just grows harder to ignore as you look at him with expectant eyes. 

A part of him is scared to touch you like you’d break if he laid so much as a finger on your delicate frame. The other part of him wants to press you into the mattress, fucking you with no mercy, to the point where you feel him inside your stomach. 

The darker, more perverted half of him wins. His large hands grab you by the waist while he leans down to capture your lips into a kiss. And God was the feeling of your lips on his heavenly. It’s like he’s licking up clouds, your lips soft and plush, wet and sweet—everything he’s ever dreamed of. He can’t help but groan, enveloping his arms around you and pulling you in by your waist to bring you closer to him. Two arms wrap around his neck and it feels like he's floating on cloud nine. 

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he groans against your lips, his breathing becoming laboured with each passing minute. 

He stares at you so intensely, you could get lost in his pupils with how blown out there are. Jun’s lips are pink and tender from kissing you, and it makes your knees weak. You can already feel the arousal pooling in your panties. 

“Jun, please,” you whimper, placing kisses along his neck, sucking and biting to coax him towards his bed. 

Moving backwards, Jun doesn't let go of your waist. Placing you carefully on the bed, your legs dangling off as your back hits the mattress. Your pink pair of panties that were discarded from the hours prior catch your eyes. It makes you chuckle knowing that Jun has been fucking your panties when he could’ve been fucking you instead. Honestly, if he had been honest with you before, you would’ve told him yes. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve fantasized about this moment,” Jun groans, his hands massaging your curves as he takes in the look of your body. 

He’s seen what you look like before, but the context is different now. You’re about to let him fuck you, and he doesn’t know the reason why you’re allowing him, but he’s not about to complain. 

“M-me too,” you blush, avoiding his gaze a little. 

From the corner of your eye, you can see his own widen a little, surprised to know you’ve felt the same way about him this whole time. 

“Wait really? Why didn’t you tell me?” He genuinely asks you. 

“The same reason as you, I was afraid,” you shrug. 

 Jun just laughs, shaking his head, his round brown glasses reflecting light as he moves. 

You watch him intently as he smiles, playing with the pieces of hair falling down and into his eyes as he lays on top of you. There's something really attractive about the glasses he’s wearing, they just suit him. The thought of sucking him off while he wears them runs through your mind like crazy. So you kiss him instead. 

Pulling him in again, you kiss him hard, letting your tongue lick the insides of his mouth as Jun continues to grope at you. His hands are travelling under your tank top to grip your bra-less mounds. Tweaking and pinching your nipples which causes you to moan breathily between kisses. 

“Just take it all off,” you ask of him, your request coming out as a squeak as he continues to play with you. 

Jun doesn't need to be told twice, he promptly takes everything off of you, revealing your naked body. A groan bubbles up from his throat as he sees you adjust onto the bed so you're lying against his pillows. Never in a million years did he think he would ever get to see you naked on his bed. 

“This is better than anything I could ever imagine,” he mumbles to himself, and you giggle at the fact that he’s talking to himself. 

“And what would you imagine exactly,” you tease him, sitting up to remove his shirt. 

Your hands are quick, taking off whatever remains of his clothing except for the glasses. The moment you get to his boxers, your voice is lost in your throat. The imprint his hard dick left is huge, and you’re wondering if he could fit it all inside you. Trying not to show how intimidated you are by his size, you pull down his last piece of clothing. The tip slaps against his stomach and you can feel yourself drool inwardly. 

“I imagine you just like this, sitting pretty in my bed, begging for me to fuck you, to fill you with my cum,” he whispers into your ear as he lays you back down. 

His hand supports himself by your head, while the other roams further down your body till his hand teases the apex between your thighs. It makes you gasp, the feeling of his cold fingers, prodding at your folds. 

“Is that something you’d like?” Jun continues to talk to you, his voice an octave lower. 

You don’t say anything, more like you can’t say anything. The pads of his fingers are rubbing circles lazily against your clit, moans leaving your lips non-stop. 

“Yes, I want that, please, Jun,” you beg him, gripping his bicep as he slides his fingers against your pussy lips harder. His fingers rub you but not enough to get you reeling over for him. He’s teasing you and you hate it. 

“What do you want?” He taunts you because he already knows, he just wants to hear the words leave your lips. 

You gasp, back arching as you feel one finger push past your entrance, going in and out of you at an excruciating pace. It feels so good to finally be full, it makes you feel lightheaded, but you want more. 

“I want you to fuck me, please stuff me with your cum,” you whine, kissing up his neck to convince him to pleasure you further. 

“Good girl,” he mutters, peppering kisses on your face, “got tired of fucking your panties, I need the real thing now.” 

“Hmph, Jun, so good,” you moan, head thrown back as you feel him add another finger. 

Your thighs spread even further, wanting him to have full access to your body. He realizes this, picking up the speed of his hands. The sounds of your squelching hole getting fingered fills the room and it’s like music to Jun’s ears. 

Jun is lost in a daze, your face scrunched up with pleasure, and your eyebrows furrowed. He admires your beauty and he feels you come closer to your pending orgasm. There was something so intoxicating about your lust-filled gaze, eyes staring deeply into his as he continues to fuck you with his fingers. 

“So fucking tight, and wet,” Jun grunts, feeling your walls constrict around his digits. 

He wants nothing more than to feel you around his cock, but he wants to taste you first. 

“I need to have a taste of that pretty pussy,” he whispers once again, smirking at how your doe eyes follow his frame as he lowers himself between your thighs, “So fucking wet for me, aren’t you, baby?” 

You are rendered speechless, just allowing Jun to use your body in whatever way he wants, but you don’t mind. The feeling of his tongue against your swollen bud makes your eyes roll back. It makes you grip his hair as he continues to push his two fingers into your slit. Having both his tongue and fingers on you is like heaven, and you can feel yourself coming close to the edge very soon. 

“Close, I’m close, Jun,” you gasp out, watching him stare back at you from between your legs. 

You’re mesmerized by how sexy he looks from where he is, the glasses fogging and defogging slightly with each breath he takes. His hair is a mess as you continue to pull at it, and the free hand he places on your thigh keeps you open. It’s a lot to look at and you don’t want to stop. 

The familiar band in your stomach becomes so tight that it snaps, leaving you shaking as you ride out your first orgasm of the night. 

“Fuck! Jun!” you wail, his tongue still playing with your clit as he begins to overstimulate you. 

You practically have to push his head away, the sensitivity sending a prickly feeling all over your body. He just chuckles, the same smirk from earlier reappearing on his face. A sign that he knows he was teasing you after your orgasm, forcing you to grow frustrated with his actions. 

“Fine, if that’s how you want to be,” you spit at him before flipping the two of you over. 

Jun is left dumbfounded as he realizes that you’ve gained control over the situation. Your wet cunt sat snugly against his hardened length. He lets out a groan as you adjust yourself so your folds envelop the underside of his member. 

“Fuck you’re so wet,” he grunts, hands gripping your waist as he drags you back and forth the length of his cock. It feels good for the both of you, your head lolling back as you savour the warmth of his dick rubbing against you. 

“I would fuck this pretty  cunt all day if I could,” Jun confesses, lost in the feeling of your warmth. 

“I want it inside,” your voice is thick with lust.

Before Jun can say anything more, you lift yourself, aligning his tip with your entrance. Fully sinking on his cock, the two of you let out a sigh of relief. The way his length fills you makes your head dizzy with pleasure. You can feel him stretching your walls like no other, and you wonder why you haven’t thought of asking him to fuck you before. 

“You’re tighter than I imagined, baby,” He mutters, and you can tell he’s trying hard to fight off his release. 

“You’re so big, Junnie, fuck,” you whimper, moving your hips back and forth to adjust to his size a bit more. 

You lower yourself to kiss his chest, moving up towards his Adam’s apple, leaving trails of love bites. The movement of your hips begins to speed up, grinding against him to satiate that inherent need inside you. The need to have his cum fill you to the brim, to mark you with his seed. 

Moving back up, you push your hands against his chest to stabilize yourself, bouncing up and down his cock like a woman depraved. Your skin slapped against his torso with every thrust down. Jun can only moan below you, gripping your hips as one hand slaps your ass repeatedly. Mixing your pleasure with a little bit of pain, and your walls constrict around his cock with every hit he lands. 

Looking down at him, his face contorted as you fuck yourself on his length, Jun knows he won’t last any longer. The sight of you bouncing on his dick is making him weak, especially with the view of your tits bouncing in front of his face. 

“This pussy’s fucking perfect, so fucking good,” His voice strained, “Wanna fill you with my cum baby.” 

“Please, Jun, I wanna feel it,” you moan. 

That’s all he needed to hear because a second later you feel the spurt of warm cum fill your hole. A shiver goes down your spine as you wait till Jun finishes emptying his seed into you, your orgasm follows quickly after. Juices coating his length as you let out a little moan of relief. 

You collapse on his chest, lying there, Jun wraps his arms around you as his cock still sits snugly inside your warm cunt. Letting out a hum of satisfaction, you feel yourself start to get drowsy from how much energy you exerted. 

“Can’t believe my best friend is a pervert,” you giggle, your fingers doodling nonsense on his bare chest. 

“I can’t believe my best friend is attracted to perverts,” He argues back, rubbing the length of your back to calm you down. 

You just roll your eyes in response, “You better give me my panties back.” 

© wonustars

୨୧ a/n: ty for reading! i hope you liked it, please kindly leave a comment or reblog :3 or send an ask! ik i want to do a pt.2 of this so lmk what u all think!!! if theres any typos or warning tags missing pls comment or send an ask :) ty again and see you next time ♡

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#svthub #wen junhui #jun #seventeen smut #jun smut #seventeen fic #jun x reader #jun fic #seventeen imagines #seventeen hard hours #seventeen hard thoughts #svt smut #svt fic #seventeen x reader #junhui x reader #junhui smut

[vixen7243]

Undivided Attention

Gaz X AFAB!Reader | TF141 X AFAB!Reader

Masterlist | John Price |Ghost

MDNI!!

Y/N was Task Force 141's combat medic, a sweet little thing that barely ever since joining had seen the light of day in a fight, they sheltered you to the base and that was it, the most action you had seen ever was on the rare occasion that Price okayed you to get on the helicopter with Nikolai to pick them up and that was it. At first Y/n was unbelievably annoyed with them when they had started developing feelings for you and started to slowly shield you from the tainted things in the world, or so they say but whenever they would throw that stupidly lame excuse around in front of you a hearty laugh would erupt from you. "Tainted world? Guys, the amount of dead bodies that I've had to leave in my wake before joining you all is enough to fill hell alone. I'm parted of that tainted things in this world."

The angry glances and scoffs that followed your attempt with reasoning with them made you hold your tongue after John's following statement. "You won't ever be apart of that world anymore, not while I'm still breathing."

It had taken a while for the team to warm up to you, the thought that General Shepard was the one to specially assign you to them didn't sit well with them till they had seen the back handed way you would openly shame him and degrade him with annoyance and slight humor gleaming in your eyes. "No wonder you have been working so well with them, rabid dogs always know how to stick together." Barking a laugh at him you made quiet the spectacular come back on his embarrassing attempt to hit on you and get you into his bed, only for you to make an impotent comment to him and his age. After which, with the brightest red face, being sure to always avoid your presence whenever possible. After that, Soap, Gaz and even John eased up on their ignoring and slanted looks, having small talks with you eventually enjoying long chats with you late into the night if you or them, couldn't sleep. Ghost still gave you hard stares every once in a while but he would at least respond back to you when you asked him anything or talked to him.

Somewhere along the way of slowly easing you out of the field and keeping you at the base, the men had even started leaving lingering touches, longing glances and sweet nicknames that would make your stomach flutter. It was one late night in John's office, you were yet again up late with him, mostly keeping him company, he sat at his desk, papers scattered, his bourbon abandoned long ago while you were insisting he drink tea after 7 if he needed to drink something, this being better for his liver. You sat in a chair on the other side of his desk, legs kicked up while you read a book from his mini library, bored mostly but you always were curious of the books he read so you pushed through, a night that was the same as any other when you would sit in his office, the sound of the clock ticking, his pen scratching along the papers and the occasional turn of a page from you. Finishing the last page you slammed the book shut, making John look up at you, stretching back into the chair you groaned loudly, "Good lord Captain, can't you read mor entertaining books? Maybe ones that also have a happy ending, thought I was going to fuckin cry, why do authors always kill the character that draws out the best in other characters?"

John set his pen down as he also leaned back cracking his back as he settled in, "You still finished the book, I would say it was entertaining enough. Would you rather I read one of your books this time maybe?"

A blush dusted your cheeks as you thought about your stash of books in your room that you kept locked in a footlocker, they were definitely dirty and maybe more sick minded than what John was used too. "Uh, no, we'll stick to your books, you definitely couldn't handle my books." A small chuckle left your lips, a smile coming up thinking about how John might blush at some of the things you've read, or even are currently reading. You wonder how he would even react to knowing that you read about girls getting absolutely destroyed in bed, so sore they can't even barely move after, even passing out because of how good it feels. Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you glance up noticing that he was watching your lip.

"You don't think so?" You watched has his hand ran over his beard that he hadn't gotten around to trimming, or more or less you haven't, he had you take up the dutiful job of keeping his facial hair trimmed and kept up, you sometimes sitting in his lap, doing your absolute best not to grind near his crotch when seated. "What do you read then? Enlighten me." Looking away from him you tried to think if you should lie or make up an excuse and leave, to embarrassed not to tell him the truth of the filth that you read. Hearing him clear his throat, you glanced up through your lashes watching as he pointed to his lap. You had gotten so used to sitting in all their laps, your ass barely ever sat the seat of a proper chair or couch, especially in the rec room, Soap and Gaz loved to pull you up into their laps, their hands massaging your thighs or back as your fingers massaged their scalps, necks or shoulders. Ghost sometimes would push you to one side of the couch, throwing himself down, resting his head in your lap while your fingers played with his blonde hair, you hadn't gotten a chance to see his face but he does now wear sometimes a surgical mask, black. Getting up you made your way to him, sitting in his lap, feeling like a little doll, you belonged to all of them, you knew that, they knew it. As soon as you straddled his lap, his hands crept up and down your sides and thighs, you were trying to find the words you wanted to use to get yourself out of this but looking into his eyes, you were stuck.

That night, through soft words, guided affection, and encouraging embrace, John set claim to you, later in the morning notifying the rest of the lads you walked out to the rec room Gaz and Soap the first up and right in front of you like puppies. You all had a very long chat about boundaries and limits, safe words and commitment that morning. After all was aired out, you were officially locked down to the base, and eventually, surprisingly fast just accepted it.

Soap was the handsyiest, even around base, he always had his arm wrapped around your waist, face buried in your neck, there was no reining him in, this was him holding back. In the rec room, he would beg you to cuddle on the couch, which would lead to cockwarming, then eventually down right fucking, he loved having you around him, you did nothing but praise him, words he barely ever heard but yearned for. You handed them out to him like candy, without a second thought, sometimes admittedly yes, you should have told him to stop, not in public, no PDA but god, his puppy eyes always made your heart clench, you just couldn't say no to that face, the bastard.

Ghost was more reserved, having to be careful do to him being a superior officer, as well as John. That's not to say that he didn't follow you around the base when Soap wasn't glued to your hip, whenever he found his chance, he would stick to you, happy little glances his way making him preen. Getting you to the rec room where you two could be slightly more open with affection, Ghost was almost, almost unrecognizable with his little whispers, your praises making him blush, his softened eyes quietly begging for more of your attention. Once he has you in his room, god, he has you pinned under him, sometimes even holds you above him, just begging for more praise, his voice uncharacteristically cracking from emotion, your gentle hands smoothing over scars that make him flinch, whining as he thrusts into you, body breaking as you just keep giving him everything, telling him that he deserves everything, even forcing him to say he deserves this, as you kiss his body gently, caressing him, handling him as if he was the finest piece of glass that could break from even a breath. You really did enjoy giving Ghost your attention, especially when you knew at times it was helping him heal wounds that he refused to ever heal, he was your delicate flower, even if to all them, you were theirs.

John got you most nights and mornings due to how busy he was, it was unspoken but agreed upon, you slept in his bed, unless one of the others truly needed you after a bad day, or dream. Sometimes when he could spare a moment in the day away from the confines of his office and work, he sauté you out, like his own little personal mission, and you would go back with him to his room, or his office, which ever was the closest. After making sure the door was locked he would hold you, your words ringing in his soul as you held him tightly, whispering the sweetest love you could offer him that wouldn't make him rebuttal that he was too old for you, that he was being selfish in holding you the way he does. That if he was a better man, half the man you praise him to be, he would stop his advances, let you go, close himself off again, but he couldn't he was filth, worse than filth for keeping you so close. You would hush his negativity with kisses, massages and words so sweet you would see the broken captain that tried so hard to stay strong for his team, for you. You held him together as he found the warm and love he didn't believe he deserved inside you.

Gaz, sweet, patient, caring Gaz, he let you be, he never followed you, never looked for you, he gave you space. He knew you would come to him, you always do, you always make sure to divide up your days for all of them, giving them all the attention and love you could possibly offer them while trying to give yourself some in small increments whenever possible. Gaz watched as you would coddle Soap, giving in to the grown mans pleas of just the tip before absolutely destroying your little cunny on the couch, both of you spent and panting when Ghost comes in to lecture Soap on keeping that to his room. While also noticing on the rare occasion when Ghost wouldn't close his door all the way, seeing as he begs under you, quiet tears slipping down his lieutenants cheeks, your sweet words and encouraging praise breaking the man down even more before the two of you flip over, Ghost's head resting over your heart, the both of you taking a short nap in each others embrace. Seeing when his captain would take you to his office, and then hear him confined in you his fears, failures and short comings, all which you counter softly, Gaz would walk away hearing his Captain break down with you as well, before he's sure, as you had done with Ghost, hold him.

Gaz was patient, but to a point. For lords sake, he was a man too, he had needs, desires, problems, and he was apart of this team. Whenever he would notice in the past fortnight that you were making your way to him, his body would tense, a pent up of emotions flooding him, ready to be released into your caring embrace only for you to be dragged off by one of the others. Never, not once did he ever speak up with his annoyance, or aggravation, he kept quiet, waited, but, today was it, he couldn't be patient, or your good boy while Soap was dragging you away from his path to take you to his room. Gaz stood up abruptly and picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder, "Damnit no, it's my bloody turn with her, the lot of ya keep out my room for the night." Huffing ignoring their questioning gazes, not quite used to Gaz having that kind of tone, he carried you to his room slamming the door shut and locking it before setting you on his bed gently, he wasn't trying to take his annoyance out on you truly but he was at his limit.

"I'm sorry Kyle."

"Not you that should be apologizing, come here." Kyle got up into the bed after kicking his boots off, waiting for you to do the same as you curled up into his side, resting your hand on his chest, head over his heart listening to it pound heavily. There was a beat of silence as you stayed on his side before pushing up slightly and looking into his eyes.

"Talk to me, you have me all night I won't go anywhere."

Kyle let loose everything, everything he was feeling, had been holding in, the things that had been happening, people that had been pushing him, his desire for you, and finally he broke down to his loneliness of being without you for so long. You listened, unjudging as he started to fall silent, bring your hand up to his cheek you cupped it as you kissed his other cheek lightly, the soft look in your eyes making his heart wrench, he really did miss having you in his arms. You reassured him, changing positions as you cradled his head into your lap, breaking down everything he told you, lifting up his soul with your loving gentle touch, words lighting up his world.

After a comfortable silence befell the both of you, Gaz turned squeezing your thigh, while he moved your body where he wanted, slotting himself between your thighs, groaning as he dragged your body down the pillows. He kissed your stomach as he undid your pants and dragged them down your legs, kissing and nipping your thighs and ankles before going back down and nudging your underwear to the side laying a soft kiss to your clit. "Kyle" Wrapping your fingers into his curls you moaned, feeling his smirk against your cunny as his tongue darted out and dragged up your slit before he started grabbing at your shirt and pushing it up. Taking it from him you slightly pushed up and tugged your shirt off, feeling him moan into you you flinched as he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked. Feeling your juices start to coat his lips and drip down his chin he sat up and pulled his shirt off, guiding his hand back down tugging on your underwear while undoing his belt and pants. Tugging on your underwear you kicked them off wrapping your legs quickly around his waist when he freed his aching cock, wrapping your arms around his shoulders you kissed him, your tongues sliding into each others mouth, reexploring each others bodies, his hand groping, mapping, feeling your body under him, his cock bobbing at your entrance, pearly beads of precum dripping onto your clit.

Pulling back, he looked between your bodies, gripping the base of his cock before lining himself up, and pushing in slowly, giving short, slow thrusts as you squeezed the back of his neck moaning into his skin. When he bottomed out inside of you the both of you groan, he was slotted in right at your cervix, fixing his position, he set either hand on each side of your head before pulling back just enough to where his tip was resting inside and then slamming back into you. Setting that pace, the neither of you could hold your moans back, the sound of skin slapping on skin echoing, carrying out into the hall. Reaching your hand down you skimmed your fingers over your clit rolling it between your fingers, your back arching up, and your walls clamping down onto Kyle's cock, your orgasm washing over you quickly. Kyle fucking you through your first one smirking down at you, "First one, many more to go gorgeous."

Kyle pulled back and grabbed your hips turning you onto your stomach, yanking your hips up before sliding back in, your sensitive walls fluttering around his cock, a whimper sliding out of your mouth, his pace was quick and harder. You were sure that by the end of the night, your cervix had to be bruised but god, it was feeling amazing and you would welcome the arch for the following days. Kyle grabbed a fist full of your hair before pulling back, your back arching deliciously, pushing up onto your elbows you cried out when you felt his tip sliding against your gummy spot making your toes curl and a broken groan fall from you as you gushed around him for the second time, a cry fall out of your lips as he continued to pound into you. "Kyle, fuck, I-I can't..."

Smiling he pulled out and turned you over, pushing your knees up to your chest, both legs thrown over his shoulder and he guided his cock back in, "One more for me gorgeous, I know you can do it, come on." Crying out he relentlessly pounding into your swollen cunny, pushing his forehead against yours, sweat falling from him to you mixing with your own, your skin stuck together, your cum connecting the two of you when ever he pulls out for a moment before he pushes back against you.

Feeling him twitch inside of you, you kissed him, massaging his back and scalp feeling his hips stutter when you started, lifting your head as much as you could, you whispered sweet praise into his ear, your voice hoarse from crying and moaning. Kyle couldn't hold back, slamming his hips back into your sweet spot he pushed the both of you over the edge a groan mixed with a whimper pushed out of his chest while you cried out using whatever strength you could must to hold him as close as possible.

Slowly pulling out, he rolled beside you pulling you into him, both of you smiling exhausted, his hands rubbing your lower back and kissing your forehead. You intertwined your legs, and rubbed the sides of his neck before scratching the base of his head humming. The moment was sweet and quiet between the two of you, content with just the presents of the other. You had fallen asleep after a moment, Kyle figured he would be nice and let you rest for a few before you woke you up with his head between your juicy thighs, and his fingers restuffed deep inside you. Besides, the night was young, you guys could rest for a bit.

----

John Price |Ghost

#call of duty #task force 141 #simon ghost riley #john price #x reader #johnny soap mactavish #john price smut #smut #18+ mdni #ghost x reader #john price x reader #johnny x reader #soap x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #kyle x reader

[shogunish]

𝘁𝗲𝗮𝗰𝗵 𝗺𝗲.

pairing. gojo satoru x f! reader

genre. smut, pwp, friends to lovers

warnings. explicit sexual content, hair-pulling, raw sex, female masturbation, handjob, fingering, mating press, lots of cum, squirting, loss of virginity, uneditet

words. 5k

summary. Gojo Satoru has absolutely no business knowing that you're still a virgin. It will only result in your demise: never-ending comments about your lack of experience until you have no choice to smack him over the head upside-down.

note. special thanks to @cinnamonmon for indulging my fantasies and pouring gasoline into the fire ✨

comments and reblogs are highly appreciated <3

Discussing Shoko's and Gojo's sex life is most certainly not how you expected your day to go.

Gathered at a table on a terrace, surrounded by lovely flowers blooming and the serenity of the Jujutsu Campus, you unhurriedly sip your soda. Depending on who is talking, wide, curious eyes jump from Shoko to Gojo and vice versa.

While you are happy to be spending time with your friends, you can't contribute anything to the conversation.

Apparently Gojo's awkward sex moment was when he was drunk and rubbed a girl's thigh for 10 minutes straight, firmly believing he had found her clit. Laughter bursts from Shoko's lips and you swear her coffee almost came out of her nose.

"No way! That sounds like something you'd do sober, too," she teases once her giggles die down.

Satoru pouts as though he is seriously wounded by his friend's words that stung like needles. "So that's how you think of me? I assure you this was a one-time fuzz up!" He smacks one hand to his chest where his heart is and raises his other hand much like he's vowing to never fuck up so majorly again.

Admittedly, this is one of those stories that have even you grinning into your glass. But the conversation quickly moves on; Shoko talking about the guy who took her virginity, Gojo confessing his favorite position (a string of words you had never heard of) and the several reasons why he liked said position so much.

It is a stretch of time ㅡ or maybe only 5 minutes ㅡ until Satoru puts the spotlight on you.

"You've been awfully quiet, [Name]. Cat got your tongue?" His voice has a teasing lilt to it and a smart comment lies on the tip of your tongue, but Shoko decides to answer in your stead.

She twirls a strand of hair between her delicate fingers. "[Name] can't add to the conversation because she's still a virgin," Shoko deadpan with not even a hint of a teasing tone laced in her voice.

"Shoko!" You look at her, betrayal and embarrassment written all over your face. A jumble of words, or rather letters, spill from your mouth like water from an overflowing sink, trying to save the situation. You flail your hands through the air, making all sorts of wild gestures and attracting quite a few curious looks from sorcerers and students alike.

Gojo Satoru has absolutely no business knowing that you're still a virgin. It will only result in your demise: never-ending comments about your lack of experience until you have no choice to smack him over the head upside-down. If annoying people was a sport, Satoru would definitely win the Olympics with flying colors.

"Are you for real?" Despite the blindfold hiding his eyes, you can tell that he's genuinely surprised. "And here I thought you'd have several men at your feet by now." Ah, there it is. His trademark grin which you can recognize from miles away.

Satoru would never say it out loud, but he thinks you're really pretty. You're blessed with humor, intelligence, strength in battle that even he recognizes and a smile that melts hearts on the spot. All these attributes that he silently adored about you are obvious as day to him. To think that no other man sees it proves that he sees more through his blindfold than some other folks do with a pair of lame glasses.

Yet, Gojo thinks that it's better this way. At least, he doesn't have to worry about someone else sweeping you off your feet.

Shoko rests her cheek on her fist, a warm breeze blows through her chocolate hair. "Right? [Name] most certainly is pretty, but she prefers to stay at home on her days off and play video games. The only thing she pulls is the blanket over her head. It's a shame," she muses.

Has Shoko just..roasted you? You're flabbergasted.

"I'm still here and can hear you, you know!" Heat sits high on your cheeks, threatening to melt you from within, but you have to get a point across. Embarrassed, you gaze to the side; the sliding door to your right is suddenly much more interesting than your oh-so-beloved friends. "There's no shame in not having had an..well..you know..yet," you grumble.

Satoru snaps his fingers. "You mean an orgasm."

Oh, you've just dug your own grave, haven't you? You wish for the ground to swallow you whole and never spit you back to the surface again if it means escaping this ridiculous situation for good. If you could, you would just drop your forehead onto the table and groan in agony.

You will never hear the end of it.

"So not even an orgasm by yourself?" Satoru digs and stuffs a chip or two into his mouth; they're your favorite flavor and usually you would steal 70% of the bag's content, but you have a reputation to defend right now.

A reputation that's crumbling, because lying to Gojo is impossible.

Defeated, you meet his gaze and sigh. "No. But it's no big deal, anyways. I don't have time for any of these things."

"No time, huh..," Satoru echoes your words quietly and slouches back into his seat. It's almost suspicious how easily the 1,90m tall bother on legs drops the subject, but maybe it's because he knows you're lying through your teeth.

The clock strikes 10 in the evening when you're in bed, the lights in your bedroom dimmed and dipping the room in sweet orange hues. Your shirt is pulled over your chest, tits exposed to the air and nipples hardening at the change in temperature. Nimble fingers slide from the valley of your breasts down to your stomach and linger just above your panties.

How stupid, you think. Who couldn't make themselves cum?

Perhaps, the earlier conversation you had with Shoko and Satoru still weighs heavily on your mind and perhaps you have a point to prove that you aren't as clueless as everyone (including yourself) believes.

"Hmph, this is ridiculous," you huff, push your panties to the side and slide your finger through your folds. They're already wet and sensitive, probably glistening in the dim lights. A content sigh escapes your lips.

But when you slide a finger into your pussy and can't reach that oh-so-sweet spot everyone keeps talking about, you groan in frustration. Thrusting your finger into your cunt does nothing but spread the slick and no matter how much you rub at your pussy, it doesn't feel quite right.

Frustrated moans and groans grow in volume. At some points, colorful curses leave your mouth and you give up on pleasuring yourself.

"Fucking hell, this is stupid!," you yell and continue your little rant until a knock on your door interrupts you, ripping you out of your headspace. Once your clothes are back in place and you look acceptable enough to be seen by people, you trot to the door with bare feet. "Coming!"

When you open the door, you certainly don't expect Gojo to be on the other side, a concerned look on his face which isn't obstructed by a blindfold or sunglasses for once. "Are you alright? It sounded like you got injured."

"Injured..? I'm not.." Confused, you look up at the taller man until it clicks and heat explodes on your face. Oh dear lord, no. He must've heard you trying to touch yourself and mistook your pathetic attempt at pleasing yourself for having hurt yourself on accident. "Oh..Oh fuck.."

You drop your forehead against the wooden door frame, not daring to meet Gojo's eyes. The fact that they're not covered makes the entire situation even worse, somehow. "It's not that, I was..just busy."

Gojo cups his chin in thought, mulling over your words and you can visibly see the gears in his head turning. Unfortunately for you, Satoru is smarter than he acts. A smirk graces his lips as he laughs. "So that's it? Oh man. You really suck at touching yourself, you know?"

"What the hell do you know about my body?!" You cross your arms over your chest and turn your head to the side, not sparing your dearest friend another glance. Having this conversation with him in the hallway is embarrassing enough already. "It's not as easy as it sounds! And keep your voice down!"

"You're the one making a fuss right now," Satoru states and pops into your personal bubble, scrutinizing your face from your eyes swimming in embarrassment down to your trembling bottom lip. "Seeing you all pent-up like this almost makes me want to teach you."

The idea popping into your head is the dumbest thing you have ever thought of, but what other choice do you have? At least once, you want to taste the ecstasy everyone keeps talking about and there's no one you trust as much as Satoru, even though he could be annoying.

"Could you?"

"Could I what?"

"Teach me how to touch myself."

To your surprise, Satoru agrees and you invite him into your place. It's exactly this dumb request that lands you in your bedroom with Gojo Satoru sitting on your bed and asking you to strip down first. To his surprise, you're oddly compliant and do as you're told.

"Get comfortable and relax, [Name]. It's just us." Satoru's voice is calming as you lie nearly naked in front of him. Your entire face feels hot as you catch him eying your boobs, the curve of your waist and the cute panties that separate his gaze from your bare pussy.

"Touch your tits. Take your time and don't rush," Gojo says with a slight tilt of his head. "You're supposed to enjoy it."

You gulp down the lump in your throat, muttering a "fine" as your hands slide from your collarbone down to your breasts. Insecurity fills your veins, you hesitate and your eyes flicker up to Gojo who's comfortably watching you and assuring you with a nod of his head. You cup your tits, fondling and squeezing them lightly at first.

For a reason you couldn't quite place your finger on, your tummy is already feeling funny. Is it because Satoru's watching you or..?

"Good. Now go ahead and play with your nipples. No need to go all out just yet, be gentle at first." Eyes blue like the skies intently watch your fingers flick your nipples before rubbing them in slow circles. Gojo would be lying if he said that he isn't feeling himself getting hard merely because you're touching yourself in front of him. "That's it.."

After some time, you pinch and tug at your nipples until a whimper slips your lips and goosebumps are scattered all over your skin. It feels good, you notice. The previous hesitation goes up in smoke as you get comfortable with yourself, with Satoru watching you closely.

"Feels good, doesn't it?," he questions to which you nod your head yes. "It does," you whine.

Oh, you have absolutely no idea how sweet you sound, do you? Gojo has to adjust his sitting position or else you'd sooner or later see the boner in his sweatpants, asking for your attention and sweet release. He doubts his right hand will get the job done tonight.

"You know, it's not fair," you suddenly speak up, voice shaky and uncharacteristically insecure. "I'm nearly naked and you're fully clothed..," you trail off, cheeks burning.

Gojo chuckles, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Are you saying you want me to undress like you did?"

In the past, you've seen Gojo shirtless quite a few times and it never fazed you. But now that you are half naked in front of him, pussy wet and aching for some friction, you are painfully aware of the way he's built as he strips down to his underwear.

He's broad and buff in all the right places, the muscles in his arms bulging whenever he flexes his biceps. Not to mention his slim waist and the white happy trail disappearing into his boxers, leading to the erection between his legs.

"Go ahead and touch your pussy, rub on it. Get to know what feels good for you."

Following his words, you shimmy out of your panties and dip your hand between your legs where your folds glisten with your arousal. It's wetter than it was before, allowing you to slide right through the slit and making you sigh in pleasure. You spread your folds, circle your entrance with the tip of your finger and moan at the sensitivity.

Gojo watches your pussy flutter around nothing at the feather light touch and has to ignore the throbbing and twitching of his cock. If he could, he would jerk off while guiding you, but he can't do that. At least not yet.

"Now you rub your clit. Slowly," Satoru instructs. His icy blue eyes are glued to your nimble finger sliding through your slick folds, searching for the bud and glistening in the dim light of your room.

A frustrated huff slips your lips. "I can't find it.."

"Are you serious? It's right there."

"Where..?"

Gojo takes pity on your pathetic attempts of pleasing yourself. Grabbing your knees, he spreads your thighs apart, scoots closer to your heated body and presses his thumb right to your clit. "There."

Immediately, your back arches off the mattress as Gojo draws a high-pitched, pleased moan from your glossy lips. Thighs twitching, you buck your hips into his hand and whine. "Again," you demand through a haze of longing and desire.

Gojo has to take a breath through his nose to compose himself. How often had he dreamed of you asking for his touch underneath him, soaking his fingers and thighs spread apart so prettily? His right hand can't compare to the real thing.

"Are you sure?" He strokes the pad of his thumb over your clit and watches you tremble with mesmerized eyes. White strands of hair frame his face as he tilts his head to the side.

Frantically, you nod your head, but Gojo tuts at this. "Use your words, sweets," he commands and you give in to his every word.

"I-I'm sure," you stumble over your words and catch his gaze, holding it with heat on your face and a softened look resting upon your features. "Please, touch me, Toru.."

"That's a good girl," Satoru smiles to himself as he drags his finger down to your fluttering hole and circles the slick flesh. Slowly, he inserts two of his fingers into your cunt, curves them upwards and rubs that sweet spot within you. "This is the spot that you'd wanna rub when you finger yourself, but now that I look at your hands.." Gojo trails off and takes one of your hands into his own, smirking when you squeeze it. "You probably won't reach it on your own."

Moan after moan spills from you, hips buck into his hand for more, more, more. You throw your head back into your pillow and dig your nails into the sheets until your knuckles go white. Heat pools in your lower abdomen and slides up your spine until it spreads to the very tips of your fingers. "A-ah, Toru! Right there," you whine. "Don't stop.. Feels s'good."

Satoru chuckles. "You're so sensitive, it's cute. I'm so lucky to be the first to see you all wet and needy, ain't I?"

Each squelch of his fingers is followed by a moan or whine, sounds that Gojo could listen to all day if you'd let him. Your slick trickles down to his wrist, stains your inner thighs and leaves a damp spot on your once clean sheets. The heel of Gojo's palm rubs your clit with each precise movement of his hand, leaving you no choice but to squeeze your thighs shut.

"Aw, is it too much for you?," Satoru coos in faux sympathy and uses his free hand to grab your face, making you look up at him through half-lidded eyes with your lips all puckered. "Fuck, aren't you a pretty little thing for me," he groans.

You want to answer, but all that comes out is a string of letters that sound an awful lot like his name, all fucked out and gone.

Gojo forces your thighs open again, watching his fingers disappear into your cunt over and over again until he's pounding them into you, juices dripping down to your ass. Your gummy walls tighten around his digits until Satoru is sure you're about to suck him in.

Suddenly, he pulls his fingers out of your fluttering hole.

"Why'd you stop?," you whine in pathetic tones as the sweet tension leaves your muscles and the knot of warmth disappears from in-between your legs.

Satoru caresses your thighs; from your knee up to your inner thigh and across your stomach until his hands caress the underside of your tits, his thumbs flicking your hardened nipples. Just like that, he draws a whimper from you. "If you're gonna cum, it's gotta be on my cock."

It takes a moment for your brain to process his words, but when they do, your gaze travels from Gojo's stupidly handsome face down his abs and stops at the twitching bulge between his legs. A damp spot of pre-cum rests on the top of his erection, making you lick your lips.

"Your cock, huh..," you echo his words like you're drunk on him, his touch, like you're drunk on love. Absent-mindedly, you sit up and place your hands on Gojo's broad shoulders. You had never realized just how well-built and firm he really is and it makes you gulp.

Slowly tracing your hands down his body, you slide his boxers down his legs and toss them into some corner of your room. Gojo's cock springs free, smacks against his abdomen once and stands at attention. Pre-cum pools from the tip and a delicious vein travels from the base all the way to the red, swollen head.

"Teach me how to touch you," you whisper.

Gojo has a hard time controlling himself when you say these things in that voice of yours and give him those doe eyes. But he also has a hard time saying no to you. "Wrap your hand around the length like this.." Grabbing your hand, he makes you wrap your palm around his cock; a shiver goes down his spine as your fingers nearly don't fit around the girth. He's hot and heavy in your hand.

"Then you wanna rub it and twist your hand a little," Gojo instructs and guides your hand up and down his cock just like he said. His head falls back into the nape of his neck and a groan vibrates deep in his chest. "Rub the tip with your thumb. The slit is fine, too."

And you do just as you're told. Carefully, you rub the swollen tip with your thumb all while gliding your palm along his cock. Sticky pre-cum pools from the slit and when your thumb catches some of it, making the slide so much warmer and wetter, a loud groan escapes Gojo's lips. He wants to thrust into your palm so badly, but just before he could..

You're apologizing and pulling your hand away, shock and guilt written all over your face. "I'm sorry! Did I hurt you? I didn't mean toㅡ"

"Hell no." Satoru is quick to wrap your palm around his cock once more and tighten your grip to thrust into your fist. "You feel fucking good. Keep going, sweets."

When his hand releases yours, you nod at him and drag your fist down to the base of his cock and slide it right back up where your palm squeezes the tip. His pre-cum now sticks to your palm, each rub sounding wetter than the one before.

Groans and moans spill from Gojo's mouth. He no longer feels the need to thrust into your hand; not when he rests his forehead on yours, his hot breath fanning your cheeks and basking in the feeling of your hand wrapped around him. Large, calloused hands glide from your shoulders to your arms and cup your tits. Satoru fondles them, squeezing and groping you to his heart's content.

"You're so beautiful," he mutters. His curious hands are now cupping your cheeks, skilled fingers move away some stray strands of your hair before his thumb catches your bottom lip. "Can I ㅡ ah, shit ㅡ kiss you?"

Your grip around his cock tightens, making him hiss. You smile at him like you're in love. "Yes, please. Kiss me, Satoru."

Gojo crashes his lips into yours, one hand keeping you in place by the back of your neck while the other one grabs your ass, pulling you closer to him. You moan at his touch, at the way he bites your bottom lip and sneaks his tongue into your mouth to dance with your own.

Satoru groans into your mouth when your fingers graze his balls, squeezing and fondling the flesh lovingly. He wraps his tongue around yours, sucking on the slippery muscle until a combination of his saliva mixed with yours trickles from the corner of your mouth. Delicate fingers get caught in Satoru's hair, pulling and tugging at the roots and always asking for more.

Gojo pulls you impossibly closer until you're on his lap, your pussy kissing the length of his cock and slicking it up. He can't take it anymore.

Breaking the kiss, a string of saliva connects his lips to yours and you find yourself pushed into the mattress.

"I need to be inside you. Now." Gojo towers over you, easily covering your frame with his buffer one. His eyes, once as bright as the clear skies, are now as dark as the depths of the ocean. Drops of pre-cum land underneath your belly button, pooling there and warming the skin. "Will you let me fuck this pretty pussy? I promise I'll be gentle."

Briefly, your eyes flicker down to his cock and you wonder how he's supposed to fit inside you when you had been clenching around his fingers already. But your need to feel Gojo inside you is greater than the questions floating throughout your mind. "Please. Fuck me, Toru."

Something akin to boyish delight lights up the blue of Satoru's eyes. Grabbing his cock, he makes sure to slide through your glossy folds and groans at the warmth you gift him. When the head catches your clit and Satoru smacks it with the tip, he smirks at the way you arch off the mattress.

"Ugh, stop teasing and fuck me already!"

"Who knew you were so bossy in bed?," Gojo teases and the next smart comment lies on the tip of your tongue, but it's wiped clean when Gojo presses his cock into your sloppy hole.

You dig your nails into his bicep, whimpering at the burning stretch but it feels too good to complain about it. Your pussy sucks him right in until he's nestled within your gummy walls, tip pressing into all the right spots and twitching within you.

"Fuck, you're so tight and wet..," Satoru groans, wraps one of your legs around his waist and drapes the other one over his shoulder. He sinks a bit deeper into you until his balls are pressed to your ass. "It's so much better than I imagined."

Drawing his hips back, Gojo thrusts into your pussy with a groan and sets a pace that makes you wrap your arms around him, digging your nails into his back. His weight pushes you into the mattress, each stroke of his cock making you moan louder than before.

"You're feeling good, huh?" Satoru smirks above you and grabs your hips to hold you in place, picking up the pace. Skin smacks against skin, your pussy squelches and leaves a white ring of cream around his cock. "Gonna turn you into a pretty mess once I'm done with you."

All you can do is take whatever Gojo gives you. The leg draped over his shoulder dangles in the air, your tits bounce in tune with his thrusts. "Fuck, gimme more, 'toru.. Need all of you..," you babble.

"More? You're a greedy thing, aren't you?" But Satoru fulfills your wish regardless. Sneaking a hand between your bodies, his fingers are quick to find your puffy clit, rubbing figure eights into the nub. Tears spring to your eyes, brimming your waterline and blurring your sight.

"Toru! Ah, fuck! Hah..shit, yes!" You chant his name like a prayer, throw your head back into the soft pillows and drag your nails down his back. You'd certainly leave some scratches, but Gojo doesn't mind. Not when it makes his cock twitch within your sloppy walls, leaking of pre-cum.

"There, yes, there! Just like that." Hot tears roll down your cheeks and into the clavicle of your collarbone as Gojo hits that sweet spot which makes you see stars over and over again.

"Right there, huh?" Sweat trickles down Satoru's temple, a few strands of snow white hair sticking to his forehead as he pounds you into the mattress. He grips the back of your thighs, folding your legs up to your chest and putting his full weight on top of you.

You cry his name, grasping at anything that was Gojo; his back, his flexing bicep, his tousled hair. Anything that you could reach as he abuses your poor cunt. "That's it. Take my cock just like this and I'll make sure to fill you up," he praises all while digging his blunt fingernails into the flesh of your thighs. He'd definitely leave his mark on you.

Mewling at Satoru's promise, your hole flutters around his cock and sucks him right in before it clenches down on him.

"T-Toru," you stutter as he drills his cock into you, a sob rocking your shoulders. "H-How do I know I'm about to ㅡ fuck ㅡ cum..?"

And when Gojo pinches your clit, his cock pressing into your sweet spot and your eyes rolling into the back of your skull, your orgasm comes crashing down on you in waves.

A loud scream of Satoru's name is ripped from your throat and your back beautifully arches off the mattress. Clawing at his back, several sobs spill from your chest and it's so fucking wet. Your pussy is gushing all over his cock, wetting not only his lap but your stomach and sheets as well.

Satoru rubs your clit in hard circles, letting you ride out the waves of your high. "That's fucking nasty, baby. When I said I wanted you to wet my cock, I didn't think you'd squirt," he laughs and pounds into your spent cunt until you're moaning again, begging him to stop.

"Too much..Toru, 's too much!" Your squirm underneath Gojo but all he does is hold you still as he presses his hips flush to your own. He buries his face in your neck, holding you so close that your tits get pushed up against his chest.

"Shh, let me fill your pussy, pretty girl," he shushes you and with one final thrust, thick ropes of cum fill up your insides until it leaks out from where his cock plugs you. Gojo groans right into your ear, grinding his sticky cum deep into your cunt before he slowly pulls out.

His tongue sticks out to sweep over his bottom lip as he admires the creamy mess he's made of you; covered in not only his but your cum alike, lips swollen from his kisses and the several prints of his fingers on your skin. Satoru smiles at his handiwork.

"I don't think you've ever looked prettier," Gojo swoons, a soft look in his eyes.

"Ugh..," you groan, feeling full of his cum that seeps out of your cunt. "Shut up, Satoru.."

Contrary to popular belief, Gojo Satoru has the decency to take care of you after he has folded you in half and drained every last bit of energy from your body. He is gentle when he cleans you up with a warm washing cloth, but still an asshat about it when he says "Whoops, there's more coming out. You should really focus on keeping my cum in, love."

You want to slap the grin off his face, but lack the strength to do so.

So instead, you let him dress you into a fresh pair of panties and a hoodie that was several sizes too large. Gojo is dressed in casual sweatpants and a loose shirt. The bed is made and a couple of snacks are now in front of you and Satoru, the heat of the moment gone just like the Earth-shattering high he gifted you.

"Satoru..What does this make us?," you cautiously ask with a mouth full of a couple of gummy bears. There is nothing else that you cherish as much as his friendship and trust in you, but sex destroys every friendship, right? Fuck, you shouldn't have gotten carried away.

"Hmm..," Gojo hums an leans back, supporting his weight with his hands behind him on the soft mattress. A pair of pitch black shades now rests on the bridge of his nose, yet you can clearly see the playful glint in his annoying, beautiful eyes. "I guess I gotta think of a way to introduce you as my girlfriend now."

Your head whips towards Satoru, owlishly staring at him. "Eh? Are you serious?"

"I, Gojo Satoru, would never lie about this!" He raises his hands like he's surrendering, like he's about to whip out a white flag and it makes you chuckle. "So, what do you say?"

With your knees tucked underneath your hoodie and pulled to your chest, you let a pout grace your lips. "I guess I would love that.."

"It's official then!," Gojo exclaims, tosses his arm around your shoulder and pulls you flush to his side. Playfulness quickly turns into tenderness as he presses a soft kiss to your hairline.

"You're mine now."

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader smut

[spamgyu]

*Mentalizing collage mingyu for valentines day*

oh we are so back besties....

(not technically valentines day but the same idea.... aha)

College!Mingyu – Ghosting and Balloons

no bc college!mingyu as someone who lives down the hall from your dorm and you always run into him doing something questionable [College!Mingyu Masterlist]

He hasn't replied to her texts.

He always replied to her texts. Even if he was busy — reacting with a heart or the !! feature Apple had so kindly coded into their imessage.

What could he possibly be so preoccupied with that he can't even bother leaving her on read – her message staying on delivered.

She knew he wasn't at practice.

It was Saturday... at 8pm.

There was no reason for him to be ignoring her either. Even when she was on something, pushing his buttons, he never ignored her.

That wasn't the case this time. They were having a proper conversation right before he had gone MIA. Her last text to him was asking if he wanted to grab brunch with her the following day.

Which was sent nearly 2 hours ago...

Chewing at the loose skin on her bottom lip, Y/n closed out the messaging app; tossing her phone away from her with a groan.

This was exactly the reason why she loathed the idea of having feelings for someone.

She hated how much it consumed her; over analyzing every single word and action that was being said back and forth.

It had only been about three weeks since that God forsaken night. And though she said it herself that their confession's didn't change anything, it did.

Within hours she felt the sudden shift between them. She was welcoming of all his hesitant touches, allowing him to pull her closer against his body whenever they stood, not bothering to bat an eye whenever he played with her fingers — pinching the tips as he babbled on about his day.

More importantly, the shift in the way they talked to one another.

The banter still remained, not letting a single minute pass without teasing him about his spelling errors or his lame jokes he would send over.

But she also have taken notice how much softer his voice has become whenever it was just the two of them. The first time she heard that tone, her knees nearly gave out from under her — grabbing his upper arm to stabilize herself.

Just as her brain was about to conjure the worst case scenarios possible – ones that included Mingyu ignoring her for someone else.

Some other girl.

The familiar assigned ringtone began to blare loudly from her phone.

"Yes?" She answered with a sigh.

"Come out." She couldn't see him but she could tell he was smiling – brightly. He always did seem to be smiling a little to wide whenever he was on the phone with her.

"No."

"Wha– Y/n please."

"No."

"Is it because–"

"Yes." Y/n replied shortly.

She did say she had standards, and though he ticked off many of her boxes; she was sure she wasn't going to let anything slide.

Even if it was petty. It wasn't like she wasn't going to give in anyways. She just wanted to give him a hard time.

Like she always has done.

"Y/n," Mingyu's voice softened. She could tell his smile had faded. "I'm sorry, but if you come outside you'll understand why I wasn't able to answer my phone. So please just humor me this one time?"

Damn him and that stupid voice.

"Fine." Y/n grumbled, hopping off of her bed – bounding for their dorm building's exit.

She didn't know what to expect but it was definitely not Mingyu leaning against his car... holding a bouquet of tulip balloons.

This still didn't explain why he had left her on delivered for nearly three hours.

"You've got pollen allergy and I uh– wanted to ask you something." He answered her silent question.

Her frown remained as she stood a few feet from him, debating whether she would give in to his kind gesture or continue with her stubborn act.

"Would you be my Valentine?" Mingyu held out both his arms, a small pout on his face – he was hoping that maybe it would make up for going awol the past few hours.

And god was he right.

"Valentine's day is next week." She bit back the smile as she took the balloons from his hand.

"Tiktok said I should ask before the fourteenth and I– the stupid flower legos were sold out and so I thought maybe this would be better but then it was so hard to make because they kept popping and I–"

Y/n couldn't help but giggle at his quick rambling, watching him shift his weight from one leg to another in nervousness. She could clearly see how he was regretful of his actions – and considering how well the bouquet was put together, there was no doubt he had gotten too preoccupied with trying to make sure that it came out perfect.

"Yes."

"Oh thank god." He let out a sigh as his shoulders dropped. "I'd love to go get brunch with you, by the way. On one condition."

"You have conditions now?"

Mingyu nodded. "Dinner? On me?"

"Gross." She stuck her tongue out.

"You're gross!" He gasped, instantly catching on to her joke. "Unles– Ow okay ow!"

"You're insufferable, you know that?"

"This girl I'm talking to have mentioned it once or twice."

"That girl also said she's close to ghosting you."

Mingyu shook his head. "No, I just spoke to her and she said she's actually head over heels for me."

"Is she a gymnast?" Y/n replied without missing a beat, earning yet another pout from the boy.

"I don't like this game."

"Let's go, lover boy." She snorted, getting on her tip toes to plant a quick kiss on his cheek before letting herself into the passenger seat. "I want sushi."

Mingyu stood dumbfounded in his spot, feeling the heat of her lips linger on his skin – reaching up to touch where she had made contact with him.

Maybe he needed to make flower balloon bouquets more often

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@thegirlwhoimagined @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @f4iryjjosh @akeminy @yonabutnotyuna @tacosandbitch @vanillacheol @aaniag @bettybotterboughtabitofbutter @xbaekcult @alwaysalmostthere @ashkuuuu @morkswatermelonnnn @isabellah29 @lottogyu @bubbly-moon @lllucere @bo-fairykim @pluviophile-xxx @daegutowns @jenoxygen @niktwazny303 @aahvii @fragmentof-indifference @leah-rose03 @haolistic @eclliipsed @joshuahongnumbers @gyuguys @yaaaridk @christinewithluv @yoonzinoooo

(for some reason it's not allowing me to tag some who wanted to be added to the perm tag list ... cries... pls check ur settings so i can for future posts)

May or may not have been inspired by this pic.....

#WE ARE SO BACK BABES #dont we just love a stubborn oc.... aha ._. #spamquests #college!mingyu au #mingyu x reader #mingyu x oc #mingyu drabble #mingyu fluff #mingyu scenarios

[s-brant]

Sweet Peach

An inside joke started by Eddie turns into torment for Steve when his girlfriend, Y/N, joins in on it. On a night out with their friends, his long-buried frustration comes to a head.

13k (18+)

Warnings: smut, thigh-riding, unprotected sex, public sex, daddy kink, exhibitionism, breeding kink if you squint, substance use, and strong language.

There are a lot of things Steve loves about his friends.

The first of which is that they are loyal. Not the standard type of loyal either, they're the die-for-each-other type of loyal. From slaying inter-dimensional monsters together to trying to pass finals, they have gotten each other through many arduous trials. Having each other's backs isn't even a question at this point.

The second thing he loves about his friends is their ability to turn any lame Tuesday afternoon into the night of their lives. It doesn't matter what they have to do in the morning, or that there isn't much to do in Hawkins in the middle of the work week, they find a way to liven the dull town and paint the greyscale world around them in technicolor.

Growing up being the infamous King Steve who ran with a group of vapid popular kids, he didn't know what true friendship was until he found Nancy, Robin, Eddie, Y/N, and the kids. His weekends used to be spent drinking at lame parties until his loneliness inevitably set in once he returned to his empty home, or meandering around with Tommy and Carol in utter boredom looking for something to occupy them. Now, every day is a new adventure. Whether that adventure is being Dustin Henderson's personal chauffeur or watching Robin and Eddie get high while he and Y/N swim in his pool, it's a better time than any he spent with his old friends.

His third favorite thing about his friends is their collective, almost hive-mind sense of humor. The layers of their inside jokes know no bounds, and while he appreciates it ninety-nine percent of the time, right now, he wishes he could wipe their memory for the sake of ending his torment.

It started over a month ago with a conversation they were having while the kids were piled up in the backseat of Steve's BMW with Robin and Eddie squirming underneath the gaggle of bony-limbed teens that were sitting on them. Somehow, Will, Max, and Dustin all managed to squeeze in on top of them. It wasn't safe by any means. The only people wearing seatbelts back there were Robin, Eddie, and Max, and the lack of safety was what sparked the new inside joke in the first place.

The younger teens dove into the backseat before Steve could yell that there weren't enough seats. He had expected Dustin alone, but when they pulled up in front of the Henderson residence, two more little nerds came running out after him.

"Hey! No, absolutely not, I'm not starting this car until you guys are wearing seatbelts," Steve said in the same stern but shrill tone often used to yell at the kids. "Will and Max, get out and trade with Robin and Eddie. You two can sit on their laps. You"—he was turned in his seat to point at Dustin—"bike to Mike's house."

Dustin scoffed.

"That's not fair. Why can't Y/N just sit on my lap?"

As he was mouthing off, Max and Will were already opening one of the doors and leaving the car as per his request, waiting for their older friends to unbuckle their seatbelts in order for them to switch. However, Dustin wasn't getting off of Eddie's lap until he made a decent effort in getting his way.

"Uh, because I'm not gonna let my girlfriend ride without a seatbelt. Duh. Precious cargo, Henderson," Steve said as if it were a fact as obvious as the sky being blue and grass being green.

The sound of Eddie and Robin yelling out an offended, "Hey!" in unison at his lack of care for their safety in comparison to hers fell on deaf ears. He was too preoccupied with scolding his favorite child to acknowledge them. All the while, Y/N watched the interaction from the passenger's seat with a soft smile and a blush creeping up her face to the tips of her ears at his "precious cargo" comment. The contact of the hand he already had placed on her thigh from across the center console could've burned a hole right through the denim fabric of her Levi's. His hands were always warm.

"But—"

Steve didn't give him the chance to continue his protests.

"No buts," he said, "Go."

The younger boy rolled his eyes and retorted, "Okay, dad," with a lethal dose of condescension laced in the second word for emphasis. Everyone else, both inside and outside of the vehicle, let out laughs at the snarky jab that snuffed out the gentle hum of Captain and Tennille playing from the radio.

Within the fumbling process of everyone getting out and rearranging their places in the car while Dustin watched from the curb in annoyance, they all began to build on his comment.

It was Will who said, "You know, you really do act like a dad. You should swap this thing out for a minivan so everyone can fit."

The smile on Y/N's face only grew as she listened to the interaction and watched Steve exaggerate an eye roll in her peripheral vision.

"I second that!" Dustin chimed in with a raised hand.

A seatbelt clicked into place behind them, and it ended up being Max, settled between Eddie and Robin who were motioning for Will to sit down with his legs stretched out across all of their laps, who spoke up next in outrage.

"No way! Are you insane? This car is way too cool to trade it for a minivan."

The hand that wasn't resting on her thigh raised to gesture back at Max as he spoke matter-of-factory to Dustin through the rolled-down window, "And that is why she's my favorite. She's funny, she listens to me when I say to switch seats, and she doesn't tell me to abandon Phoebe for an ugly minivan."

He and Y/N named his beloved BMW passed down to him from his dad Phoebe after seeing Fast Times at Ridgemont High together and mutually decided that Phoebe Cates was the hottest girl they'd ever seen. Thus, the hottest car in existence, in Steve's biased opinion, had a fitting name.

"Aren't parents not supposed to have favorite kids?" Eddie asked, then shifted to a teasing tone of voice, "That's kinda fucked up, daddy."

The chorus of giggles that erupted through the car drew a reluctant smile from him that he fought with every fiber of his being. Y/N watched his lips twitch with the urge to let it develop into a full-blown toothy grin, but he managed to remain strong and keep his amusement masked. In the end, he ended up playing into the joke and amping up the "dad act" he unknowingly donned around the kids for the sake of the budding joke.

He departed from the Henderson residence with a playful, "Wear your helmet and you might be bumped back up to favorite kid status," spoken to where Dustin stood, less grumpy now that the mood had shifted into something more jovial.

In their defense, he didn't resent the joke when it started. For a week or so, it actually made him laugh just as much as it made them laugh. He would pretend to scoff and roll his eyes, but they all saw him chuckle whenever they cracked another joke about it. Soon enough, every member of the group began calling him "Dad" instead of his name. The kids even pulled together their collective allowances together to buy him a "World's Best Dad" apron.

The problem stemmed from Eddie.

It began with him calling him daddy, and then, well, it stuck. Hearing Eddie call him that obviously didn't weird him out. It was a joke. But once Y/N caught on and began saying it, Steve was forced to confront new revelations about himself he wasn't fully comfortable with.

The first few times she joined Eddie in poking fun at him with the nickname, he shifted in place and let out a forced laugh to satisfy them. It was one particular instance that prompted this revelation, and he hasn't been able to end the torment it's caused him since.

Summer afternoons tend to be hottest in July in Hawkins. With Steve being the only one in their group to have a pool, this meant that everyone was to spend the fourth at his place, savoring the haven that was the cool water beneath the blazing sun, pigging out on grilled hot dogs, and, for the oldest few, drinking beers he swiped from the fridge in his dad's garage. Y/N hated beer, though, so he, being the whipped thoughtful boyfriend, came up with an alternative for his girl.

The apron the kids gifted him was tied around his waist as he poured a shot of vodka into the Shirley Temple he made special for her, placing extra maraschino cherries on top because she always complains that restaurants never give her enough, if any, of them. Her red bikini matched their vibrant shade when he carried it over and handed it off with a softly spoken, "Here ya go, peach."

Y/N's head jerked around from where she'd been focusing on Nancy and Robin, talking about a book they both read recently, to see him. The two other girls were sharing a lounge chair beside Eddie, who was lighting up a joint and sitting on the patio ground. At the sight of Steve standing there, she smiled, and it only grew when she caught sight of the drink being held out for her.

She knew without having to turn around that it was him. Other than the obvious indicator of the voice that she could recognize in a crowd of thousands, Steve is the only person to call her by that nickname. Neither of them remembers how it started in the first place, but other than the occasional "baby" or "sweetheart" thrown into the mix, he has referred to her as "peach" for the duration of their relationship.

With one hand, she took the glass from him. With the other, she guided him to lean down for a kiss by the collar of the apron he wore to cook the hotdogs on the grill for the kids. At that moment, the idea of them spending the rest of their lives like this was her deepest desire. She pretended if only for the short moment it took to pull him in and kiss him, that this was their house together, that they had children of their own, and he would work the grill while she watched over their brood of little Harringtons. It wasn't hard to picture with the "World's Best Dad" apron he wore either.

The hand she used to pull him in slid down the front of the apron over the ironed-on lettering that spelled out the words. She kept her palm flat on his semi-toned abdomen, looking up at him through fluttering eyelashes, and patted over the word dad once as she casually spoke the words that damned him to his suffering.

"Thanks, daddy."

Something changed in him at that moment. The tectonic plates must have shifted, Pandora's box was opened, and there was nothing he could do but stand there with his eyes glued to her sitting in front of him in surprise. Not at the new nickname Eddie had given him, he was used to that joke now that they were a week deep, but at the unexpected effect it had to hear her say it.

You see, Steve never thought he was into kinky sex. After checking out a couple of dirty movies from the secluded adult section of Family Video, the conclusion came to him after two of them that he wasn't into the bondage thing. He liked to get rough now and then, sure, but that's normal. A little hair-pulling, aggressive doggy style with his girl wasn't anything to write a letter to the Penthouse over. This, however, was notable. It clicked with him about five seconds after she said it that he might get hard.

Oh, he thought. He liked that. A lot.

The fact that she was sitting with her face in front of his crotch and looking up at him played a part, but it was being called that by her that switched on a lightbulb in his brain he never knew existed. However, she didn't mean it the way he felt it. That specific kink is something she's heard brought up in some of Eddie and Jonathan's painfully lewd conversations whenever they're too high to care, but she never thought to imagine it in the context of her and Steve. Not yet, anyway.

Whatever Steve had conjured as a response died with an inaudible whimper in the back of his throat, and he was forced to gather himself quicker than he thought was possible due to having friends sitting around them. Nancy is far too perceptive to miss it if he starts acting funny, and if Eddie or Robin picked up on the fact that he was sporting a semi because she called him that, he would never live it down. Like, seriously, he would be destined to live in shame for all eternity.

With that in mind, he cleared his throat and said, "Of course." A charming smile was flashed in her direction. And for the sake of the voice in the back of his head always screaming at him to take care of her, he brushed a strand of hair from her face and said, "Drink some water too, okay? Can't have you passing out on me. Someone needs to help me keep those little shitheads away from the beer cooler."

The "shitheads" in question meaning Max and Lucas, who spent a decent half hour trying to sneak their way over to the cooler he stashed the cans in. He ended up shooing them off and used the cooler as his seat around the lounge chairs everyone was stretched out on in order to guard it.

Though the "passing out" bit was a gross over-exaggeration on his part when the alcohol consumption was a mere shot of vodka, it brought a familiar warmth to the pit of her belly. Feeling his hand resting on her head to pet her hair, looking up to take in the sight of him—his sun-kissed cheeks, the chest hair poking out from the edge of the apron tied around his bare torso, and the doting affection evident in those big doe eyes. It may have been easier for her to hide it, but that moment turned her on as well. She couldn't put her finger on what did it, but it was there. Something about seeing him paired with the soothing touch and the gentle command in his voice when he told her what to do...

She nodded along like a puppy, glad to do whatever he said so long as he didn't stop looking at her like that.

"Okay."

Had he not been sporting a noticeable bulge underneath the green apron, he would've sat with her for another minute while waiting for the hot dogs he just put on to cook, but he was quick to leave. Any excuse to get the hell away from whatever siren song she was singing and back to the grill so he could try to ignore the revelation he had.

From then on, she kept calling him that.

She and Eddie would greet him with the nickname every time they saw him. And, much to Steve's dismay, hearing it from her had him fighting off arousal every single day. There were more times than he could count that she would come hurrying up to him whenever they met, throw her arms around his broad shoulders to plant a kiss on his cheek, and say through a smile, "Hey, daddy."

It was like an itch he couldn't scratch. Every time that damned word fell from her lips, it killed him to refrain from reacting. Although, he'd be lying if he said it didn't have at least one positive effect on his life. The impact it made on their sex life, at least for him, was immeasurable.

The kids, along with Nancy, left his Fourth of July party before dinner time, and the combination of sun-induced exhaustion and alcohol consumption led to Robin and Eddie passing out on the living room couch. In other words, he and Y/N were free to do as they pleased in the seclusion of his bedroom. The size of the house gave them more privacy than they would find at her place. As long as the bedroom door remained shut and they kept as quiet as possible, their friends would be none the wiser.

The half-dry bikini tied to her body left damp patches on his sheets where he pinned her beneath him. His deft fingers had the straps undone on her top as he rutted between the legs wrapped around hips and whined into her mouth. He heard her calling him daddy on a loop in his mind and gave himself to it. The pleasure sparked by their needy grinding lowered his inhibitions. It allowed him to fantasize without shame or judgment, and when that wall came crashing down, there was nothing he could do to rebuild it.

He came in his shorts less than a moment later. It was embarrassingly fast compared to his usual stamina with her, and he could tell by the way that she looked at him as he trembled in her arms and chanted her name under his breath that it surprised her as much as it did him.

She asked, breathless, "Did you just come?"

The apples of his cheeks burned red. He ended up burying his face in her chest to hide it in embarrassment as he gave her a muffled, "Yeah," in response. It had been years since he came in his pants like that. If he had to guess, the last time might have been making out with his first girlfriend when he was fifteen, downstairs on the very couch Eddie and Robin were knocked out on.

And in the weeks since, it has been a frenzy.

Never in their lives has either of them had that much sex before. It was even more intense than the frequency at which they had sex at the start of their relationship when the honeymoon phase prompted them to undress at the drop of a hat. Most of it was him initiating considering she was jokingly calling him daddy every time they saw each other and he couldn't help but throw himself at her, but once she caught on to the sudden uptick in his sex drive, she began initiating it too. To be wanted by Steve Harrington was an addictive thing.

The "torment" aspect of the ongoing joke has to do with the fact that during this frenzy of sex, he can't say a thing about the new discovery he's made about himself. What if she thinks he's weird? What if she thinks he's some kind of creep? He'd never want to offend her and risk ruining what they have together for the sake of a kink he didn't know he had.

How is one supposed to break it to their girlfriend with whom they have vanilla sex that they think they would like to be called daddy in bed? It's not that he doesn't love the vanilla sex, he does. He loves plain old missionary. He loves holding her face in his hands and looking into her eyes. He loves making love to her, and he would argue that there is a difference between that and normal sex, but there's a part of him that wants to explore new things as well. And that part of him has been hard to ignore.

Especially tonight.

It was Nancy's idea.

With it now being late August, it's their last chance to be together as a group before she leaves for college, and she found the perfect way to celebrate before the send-off full of tearful goodbyes inevitably commences. She and Jonathan intended on dragging the older crew to a dive bar a few towns over that (allegedly) didn't check IDs. It wasn't necessarily about getting drunk, either, it was about getting out of Hawkins for one night. Far away from the place that caused pain and pleasure to them for a few hours of reprieve, or maybe even pretending to be the people they wanted to be.

The backseat of Joyce's car is packed. Jonathan borrowed it for the night, seeing as Steve's needed an oil change and he wasn't going to risk the twenty-minute drive if Phoebe wasn't ready for it. Jonathan and Nancy are sitting up front together while he, Robin, and Eddie are in the back.

His foot taps to the beat of the song playing from the mixtape Jonathan put in as they wait for Y/N to come walking around the end of her street. The hands on his wristwatch read eight-thirty. The precise time they told her to meet them down the road from her house. Steve likes to go up to the door to get her, ever the gentleman, whenever he takes her out, but this night is different. She couldn't tell her parents she was going out of town to a dive bar, could she?

Y/N smiles at herself in the mirror, swiping one last coat of lipstick on and taking a step back to review her masterpiece. The aesthetic of the makeup and outfit blend together with a cohesion rarely found in her wardrobe. Most often, she throws on whatever pair of jeans and top left that's clean and calls it a day. But something as big as the group's last night out together called for more attention to detail.

The fabric of the skirt wrapped around her hips is soft beneath the pads of her fingers running along the outseams. It's a mini skirt Steve gifted her last Christmas—short to an offensive degree and simple in design. Classic, one could say. Especially when paired with her knee-high boots, the sheer black button-down tucked into the waistband, and his favorite shade of lipstick. In other words, there's a likely possibility that she'll put her boyfriend into an early grave with how she looks tonight. He's told her what seeing her in this skirt does to him.

She spends another minute or so fussing over the way her hair falls before realizing the time and cursing under her breath, rushing over to her bedroom window as if a fire was lit under her ass. It's left open for the night breeze to infiltrate the bedroom behind her, but she doesn't care. Her parents never notice when she sneaks out, so she'll be spending the night at Steve's place after they return from the bar.

The impact of her feet on the hard dirt beneath her window sends a splintering ache up the sides of her legs that she ignores for the sake of running across her lawn.

And, suddenly, there she is one minute late. Running up around the bend of the road, she appears from the pockets of darkness between streetlights like a ship emerging from a cloud of mist—hidden one moment and towering above the voyeur with its commanding presence the next. Her, with her mini skirt and red lips. Her, with her hair swishing with the momentum of her strides in the breezy summer night. His sweet peach.

He doesn't stand a chance.

The door swings open for her, and there he is.

His hair is done differently than it is on a day-to-day basis. In a styled mess of grown-out strands, the general gist of his usual hairdo is altered to be a bit tidier. The sides are pushed back into place with hairspray while the top flops to the side in a swoop that is somehow disheveled and put together at the same time. He's wearing one of those stupid polo shirts she loves so much, and, God, one of these days she will suffocate beneath the weight of this eternal yearning.

His eyes rake up and down the length of her body multiple times before he manages to string together a sentence in greeting.

Bless him, she thinks. It's too easy.

"You look"—his mind cycles through the options, 'Gorgeous, pretty, sexy, good enough to eat, like I want to bend you over the nearest surface and fuck you so good you start calling me daddy for real this time'—"beautiful."

Robin interjects, "I mean, we all know that 'cause, duh, but please keep it in your pants, Harrington."

The way he said it, especially when paired with that blink-and-you'll-miss-it surprised expression donned by that pretty face of his, tells Y/N what she needs to know. The little black skirt will be on his bedroom floor by the end of the night. Not that she has any qualms about it. Robin's comment is ultimately disregarded.

"Right back at ya, daddy."

This earns her a laugh from Eddie, a nervous smile from Steve, and a few lackadaisical chuckles from the rest of the car. The joke is beginning to get old, but, for some reason, she can't stop calling him that. Old habits and such.

A shiver runs down Y/N's spine at the contact of the hand he rests at the southernmost point of her spine to steady her as she crawls in to sit on his lap. Once she steps in with one foot, his palm dips down to cup her ass cheek over the skirt with her backside facing away from their friends to "help" her the rest of the way in. But, she doesn't take it as him making a move.

The thing about their relationship is, they both know he already owns her. Whatever part of her, whatever piece of her soul he wants, is his, and she willingly surrenders it to him. So, touches like this are commonplace. They both know it never matters to them if he touches her ass or tits without initiating sex. Sometimes, he slips a hand up her shirt and cups one of her breasts in his hand as they fall asleep on nights they spend together.

It isn't just her either, it goes both ways.

She keeps a hand in the back pocket of his jeans most times, and she loves to play with his chest hair if it can be accessed with the clothes he's wearing. But, it must be acknowledged that it is something different in each direction. Steve's possession of her is different than hers of him, and she likes it. She likes their dynamic. She likes how he makes her feel safe and protected and held whenever they're together. She likes moments where he touches her this way simply because he can. Because he knows how much power he wields over her and refuses to do anything but good with it.

The possession she has of him is...fuck, what isn't it? It's everything. It's free falling into an unknown pit. It's wishing he could do anything to make her better when she's low. It's the urge to protect her from whatever threats come their way, a dynamic forged in the life or death environment their relationship began in when they looked after the kids together as El closed the gate. The knee-jerk reaction he had to leap in front of her into the direct path of a demodog, already raising the bat to swing for a girl he met days ago. It's being wrapped around her finger and savoring every second of it.

She settles into place on his lap and thanks him in a hushed tone as to not interrupt the conversation Robin and Eddie launched into about how egregious the couple PDA within the group can get. A pair of strong arms wrap around her waist, pulling her back with little effort so her back is flat against his chest with his body acting as a seat and seatbelt to keep her in place.

The motion of the car going forward rocks her ass back against his lap. He bites back a groan, and it ends up coming out as more of a shaky exhale that he prays she doesn't notice. As long as she doesn't call him...that...again and the car doesn't jolt around enough to move her on his lap, he'll make it through the drive unscathed.

For the first five minutes, all is well. Roadways are flat and smooth, she doesn't call him by her new favorite pet name, and he manages to ignore the nagging voice in his head reminding him of the dirty secret he's been harboring for over a month. It slips his mind as he listens to their friends' conversation with his chin propped onto the edge of her shoulder and his eyes trained on whoever is speaking.

But, right when they reach the six-minute mark, it begins.

The road doesn't become uneven and pothole-ridden out of the blue, it is she who starts to shift around on top of him of her own volition. As much as she loves cuddling, sitting on his lap with her knees pressing into the seat in front of her is getting uncomfortable, and she can't find a way to make the discomfort lessen no matter how she positions herself.

"So cramped in here," she whines under her breath and wiggles her hips in an attempt to sit without his hipbones digging into her ass.

It doesn't do anything to help. The only thing it succeeds in is arousing him. Luckily, the fleeting spark of pleasure he felt when she first got into the car was snuffed out by the distractions provided in the form of their friends, but this time...

Steve has to breathe in deeply through his nose and switch his chin to rest on her other shoulder, the one closest to the window, to keep the rest of them from noticing him shutting his eyes in concentration. It's an affirmation on repeat in his head to keep him from hearing her voice saying that cursed word to him: Do not think about it, do not think about it, do not think about it, do not—

There's movement to his left, the feeling of her head turning to look over her shoulder to him, and she asks at a volume so low, only he hears, "Are you okay?"

He curses himself for making it obvious. There's no way she wouldn't have noticed with their close proximity, but he hoped his deep breaths wouldn't attract attention. And once she turned her head to see his eyes shut, she assumed he was upset or in pain of some kind.

Well, he thinks, emotional pain. The crushing emotional anguish of not wanting to have this conversation here in front of their best friends.

"Yeah, peach, s'all good."

The reassuring words are punctuated with the soft squeeze of his arms tightening around her waist in a quick embrace, but there is an ulterior motive underneath. Perhaps if he holds her tighter and has better control, she won't be able to keep readjusting every two seconds and practically grind her ass on his soon-to-be erection. The thicker fabric of his jeans buys him more time before she notices to get it to soften, but, fuck, he needs it to hurry up and quit.

Knowing her, he should've known she wouldn't drop it. If she thinks he's not feeling well, she'll do whatever she can to reciprocate the care he shows her and try to make it better, but the last thing she's doing right now is making it better. Seeing her face and hearing her voice while feeling her pressed up against him is torture.

"Are you sure? Are you getting carsick?" Her eyes narrow and her brows pinch together as she asks it in a whisper. The soft pad of her thumb rubs the back of his hand in comfort. "You're breathing so heavy, you sound like you're gonna be sick."

She starts to squirm again in his strong embrace to turn to see him better, and the movement rubs the curve of her ass on his bulge just right. Through the thin layer of her panties, he can feel the warmth and softness of her pussy against his hardening cock. That's it. He's past the point of no return. Now that he's aware of it, he can't think of anything except how easy it would be to push her panties to the side, undo his jeans, and take her like this.

His arms unloop from her waist as casually as they can without drawing the attention of their friends, then he grips her hips with enough pressure to bruise the skin to halt her cruel movements. The feeling of his lips brushing her ear has her heart skipping a beat.

Steve says lowly, "Stop moving."

Her mouth is already opening to ask what the problem is, wondering if he's hurt in some way and she's making it worse when—

Oh.

He's hard.

It hurts her neck to crane it enough to meet eyes with him, but she considers it a necessary sacrifice to get the surprise she feels across. There's a silent pleading in his eyes. What it is he's pleading for, other than the obvious, she isn't sure until another few seconds pass and the sound of Nancy telling a story about the first time she smoked pot comes back to her. That's what he's asking her to do. Don't let them know anything is going on.

Those red lips are parted in shock, and Steve thinks he might burst out of his skin if he doesn't get his hands underneath that tiny skirt. Having to see her lips painted that color...

The reason he knows she did it on purpose is that he's told her, just like he did with the skirt, what it does to him. This one is less about his fondness for the color, although he does like it, and more so about the memory tied to it. It was Christmas of their senior year. Their fling was to remain on the down low until they knew what they wanted from it since it began shortly after they looked after the kids together amidst the chaos of the night El closed the gate. He dropped Dustin off at the Snowball where she waited for him, leaned up against the brick wall of Hawkins Middle School after walking Max over to ensure Billy didn't fuck with her.

He remembers that as the first time he knew he loved her. When he pulled up in front of the entrance to the gym and forgot about everything else in existence when he saw her there, taking the younger girl into her arms for a hug and waving goodbye. There was something about her that night that made him see her in a different light than when their relationship had been strictly a friendship with sexual perks. And when she got into the car after Dustin went in, he noticed how pretty she looked in her red lipstick.

The reason why seeing her wear it turns him on is far less wholesome, however. She gave him a blowjob for the first time that night and caught him off guard. He hadn't expected her to unbuckle her seat belt soon after they left and start undoing his pants, but she did, and red lipstick has been ruined for him ever since. It's a Pavlovian response at this point.

"Oh," she whispers, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

There's a light scoff, the loudest he's dared to be since she put two and two together, and she knows what he's going to say before he says it.

"Mhm"—the tip of nose brushes affectionately against the side of her neck—"You know exactly what you're doing."

Full honesty? She didn't realize her squirming in discomfort was causing his not-so-little problem. The lipstick and skirt were calculated blows, sure, but those were intended to get him worked up later. Not in a car full of people. And she definitely doesn't know what she's doing when it comes to the whole "daddy" thing. It's a silly nickname that stuck, that's all. She has no clue that her calling him that is the reason he can't get enough of her lately.

That's why she doesn't realize that what she's about to say is the worst possible thing for him to hear at the moment.

Her lips upturn in a teasing grin.

"Uh oh, daddy's mad."

Their voices are still low enough to not be heard over the music and chatter overwhelming the interior of the car, but that's the last fucking thing he's thinking about after what she said. That's it. He's done. He's done pretending that it doesn't affect him and feeling guilty for getting off on it. It could be the arousal clouding his judgment, but he says it before he has the good sense to stop himself.

"Quit calling me that." He mutters what comes next in a manner that is shockingly cavalier, "Unless you wanna get fucked right here in front of everyone. It's up to you."

Jonathan makes a sharp left turn onto a gravel side road that sends her shifting in Steve's lap, putting a delicious pressure on his aching cock that almost pulls a groan from his lips. The act of reaching out to stabilize herself with a hand on his thigh delays her reaction to what he said, but once the car straightens out on the new road and it clicks, her mouth runs dry.

Holy shit.

And though it was never a thought in her mind prior to this moment, it now clicks into place for her the same way it had for him on July fourth. There's a pulse of pleasure felt at the apex of her thighs at the combined sensations of having him speak to her like that, the general concept of what he meant, and the feeling of him hard beneath her. It's a wonder she manages to catch the soft moan that tries to leave her throat.

She's never seen him like this.

Their sex life isn't boring by any means, but this is different. Liking it rough and engaging in casual dirty talk is worlds apart from hearing that your boyfriend gets off on you calling him daddy and realizing you enjoy it too. And it isn't uncommon for him to guide her during sex, doting on her and letting her lay back while he takes care of her, but saying he'll fuck her in front of their friends if she doesn't stop calling him daddy is not the Steve she's familiar with. He always has control over her in bed due to their natural dynamic, but not like this. Not in this way. The way she never knew she needed.

It's an easy decision in the end. It's a movement so slow and minute, he doesn't realize she's making it at first.

Y/N shifts in his lap one last time, sliding her right leg over and letting it settle between his, and spreads them slowly to allow his muscular thigh enough space to press up against her clothed cunt. The wetness he caused has soaked through the flimsy material of her panties, and she's certain there will be a wet spot left behind on his pant leg but doesn't have it in herself to care.

The fog in his mind delays his thought process for a few seconds, so when she first spreads her legs over his thigh, it doesn't hit him until a few seconds later what she's doing. Or, more importantly, what it means.

She's into it too.

If there was any chance of him going soft, it's gone now at the realization that she finds the "daddy" thing as hot as he does. And then there's the small factor of her wanting to ride his thigh in a car full of people. The long gravel road sends them jolting up and down and side to side. It didn't take long for her to realize the opportunity it offered. She's so turned on, it aches. She needs this.

Steve doesn't say a word as he pushes his thigh up harder against her, unable to do anything but watch in equal parts awe and desire, to let her use the gentle bouncing of the car to get off on him. There's no movement necessary on her part. Her sole responsibility is to sit back and enjoy it.

He hears her mutter a soft, "Fuck," at the friction of her clit rubbing on his leg through the cotton fabric of her panties and squeezes her hip in a warning to stay quiet.

"What was that?"

The sound of Robin speaking up from her left side drops her heart into the pit of her stomach.

She looks to see every other person in the car turning their heads to where she and Robin sit, the latter of the two looking expectantly at her for a response. It's difficult to focus long enough to come up with an excuse because the stimulation never ceases. It isn't her or Steve deliberately causing it, it's the bumpy road bouncing and grinding her on him. But, regardless of whether or not they can control it, it sends an exhilarating rush through her. Nobody but them knows what they're doing as they watch it, and she didn't know how arousing it would be until now. The attention of everyone's eyes on her doesn't turn her off, it adds fuel to the fire.

"Oh, I was just saying to Steve that I forgot to close my bedroom window when I snuck out. My room's gonna be too cold by the time I get back," she says.

The strength it takes to not to let out a moan in between words is immeasurable. The only thing she can think about is how badly she wants him inside of her right now. How badly she wishes he could pull her panties aside how he imagined doing and slip right in. She's so wet, he could do it. The mental image he planted in her head about calling him daddy during sex got her soaked.

Most of the car is shrouded in darkness, so none of them take notice of the positioning of her legs or his, nor do they notice his right hand playing with the hem of her skirt. His finger teases its way underneath it to caress the side of her hip.

"You can stay at my place tonight," he offers, and it infuriates her that he can keep his cool throughout the situation that threatens to unravel her composure.

His solution to her half-truth of a problem seems to do the trick, and the rest of them resume the conversation about where Robin plans on going to college next year. Mercifully, Jonathan reaches to turn up the radio as a Bowie song takes its turn on the tape. The opening chords to Starman are a distant symphony. With the pleasure spiking every passing second spent on this road that rubs her clit on his thigh, it sounds further away—as if she's been plunged underwater and listens from the depths beneath.

And she may be enjoying this, but he's willing to bet he's enjoying it more. He can feel her pulsating against his leg with every bounce the car makes. It's visible in the little ways that she's already getting close. For one, her right hand shoots down to squeeze his where it has slipped up her skirt. It's something she does whenever she's about to come. She'll cling onto him in any way she can as if he's at the risk of disappearing without her acting as his tether to the earth, and holding his hand is the best she can do.

The feeling of his breath hitting her neck sends her deeper into the fantasy she couldn't help but imagine to aid her in getting off. This road can't stretch on forever, and the last thing she wants is to get left high and dry, so she pretends. She pretends that he did exactly what he said he would and fucked her right here. She imagines the sounds he'd make in her ear, the heavy pants that would fan over the back of her neck in hot exhales, and it's a struggle to refrain from letting his new nickname fall from her lips.

Another minute or so and the gravel road will run out, but she doesn't need any longer than that. They both know it. His cock is hard against her ass, so hard it almost hurts, and she loves knowing that she did that to him. It's exactly what she needs to be sent to the edge, teetering right there between the earth-shattering promise of pleasure and the possibility of having it ripped away should the road run out sooner than planned. All she needs is a little push.

And he knows that. He has watched her, felt her, and listened for any cues she might have given through his own haze of need. Seeing that he's made her come more times than he can count, he can tell what she wants and when, and, right now, she wants to hear his voice. Dirty talk is the quickest way to push her over the edge. It must kill her that they can't speak to one another right now.

Well, she can't because she doesn't recognize how loud or quiet she is with what she's feeling, but he thinks he'll get away with it.

Steve whispers into her ear, bouncing his thigh to give her an extra bit of contact, "That's it." The darkness of the car alongside the fact that it's already jolting conceals the deliberate bouncing of his leg, and he can hardly contain his excitement as he finally gets to bring his fantasy to life. "Such a good girl for daddy."

With those words, the tension in the pit of her belly snaps and her orgasm sweeps over her with a strength far too cruel for the setting they're in. Her hand squeezes his hand in a need to do something, anything, other than writhe and moan throughout the pulses of white-hot pleasure rippling through her. It's a shock she doesn't cut off his circulation or cause her bottom lip to bleed with how hard she bites it. Her head is turned as if she's simply looking out of the window when, in actuality, she's riding out her climax. The noises were within her control, but she knew there was nothing she could do to control her face and turned her head to the side as soon as it hit her.

Having her head turned to the side allows Steve to watch her come, and, boy, is it a pretty sight. Her lip is tugged between her teeth, her brows are furrowed, and he can just tell she's dying to cry out for him the way she knows he likes. When they first got together, she was shy about making noise. It took a lot of coaxing for her to let loose and allow herself to do what felt right, and now that she's been conditioned to make as much noise as she wants, it's hard to stifle it.

The raspy croons of Bowie's voice come back in full force with the receding high that eases off of her. After a half minute or so, she has to adjust her position so she's sitting on both of his legs instead of straddling one. Her orgasm has left her sensitive to the touch, and though the road is due to shift back to pavement in seconds, she can't handle the stimulation any longer.

It's an effort not to slump against the seat in front of her or pant as obviously as she wishes to. The music concealed any slight moans that made it past, but there's nothing to hide her panting or exhaustion. Sweat slicks her skin beneath her clothes despite the rolled-down windows that allow cool air inside. The car takes the left turn and stops jolting as it did before, and, though the sleepy bliss of the afterglow, she can't help but turn her face from the rest of them and smile.

Steve sees it, though, and his hand raises from its position at her hip to pull back the hair masking half of her face. He may still be hard, but the only thought in his head for this small span of seconds revolves around how beautiful that smile is. As if given permission to move by his touch, she leans over on the open window's frame with her armed folded beneath her chin to pant the outside air. The wind blows tender across her heated face, a lover's caress, and it counteracts the raging heat inside of her for now.

The moment of post-orgasmic serenity stretches on for another minute before reality comes knocking. Jonathan brings the car to a halt on the side of the street across from the bar Nancy picked out for them, and suddenly the feeling of Steve's erection poking at her ass beneath the skirt is something she is hyper-aware of.

Everyone else gets out of the car swiftly in excitement, but Steve lingers just long enough for it to be excused as waiting for her to get off of him and pulls her back by her hips. The strength with which he does so robs her of her breath.

"Bathroom. Five minutes."

That is all the explanation he offers as to what he plans on doing with her next before he opens the car door and ushers her out after their friends. Her legs tremble ever so slightly beneath her weight on the walk across the street. She stares at his back as he walks a step in front of her and gets lost focusing on the movement of his back muscles beneath his shirt.

She's so consumed by him, she doesn't notice Robin and Nancy approaching until they've converged from both sides. Their arms looping around her sends her jumping in fear before seeing it's them. It takes her a delayed moment of looking back and forth between them for her to realize they said something to her.

"Huh?"

A knowing smirk grows on Robin's face, her eyes deviating from hers for a second to meet Nancy's in silent communication.

"We were asking if you wanted to do karaoke. Nance's friend from the yearbook club said they have a band on Saturday nights for it. But, if you're too busy eye-fucking Steve to listen to us thennn—"

Nancy barks out a laugh, and Y/N scoffs, saying, "Fuck off, I was not eye-fucking him!"

Ahead of them, she already knows Steve is listening and gearing up to tease her over it as soon as he gets her alone in the bathroom.

"Okay, well, are you in or not? We were thinking Heart of Glass or Girls Just Wanna Have Fun," Nancy changes the subject as to not drag out her embarrassment.

She pretends to take the time to consider it as if it wasn't an immediate, "Yes," upon hearing the proposal to get back at them for the comment about eye-fucking Steve—which, honestly, she was doing. Nance and Robin both hang off of her arms, the latter of the two resting her chin on her shoulder and muttering a soft chant of, "Please, please, please, please," into her ear.

"Yes," she concedes, sending the two other women into a celebration full of high-fives and giggling, "but, only after we've had a few drinks. I don't think I have the balls to do that completely sober."

Which is code for, "I need to be in the bathroom with Steve in five minutes, so I'm going to make up some bullshit about needing to drink first so you won't notice my absence."

They accept the condition, and off they go into the bar. As promised by Nance, none of them get carded. They have to climb down a steep flight of stairs to the basement, descending into a narrow hallway dim with neon lighting to reach the seedy bar. And though it is quite gross with beer sticking the soles of her boots to the floor and a few abandoned items like unused condoms and cigarette filters, there's a strange allure to it that can't be denied. This is a place to come when you want to be yourself, no matter how messy that person may be.

Eddie and Jonathan head straight for the bar, whereas Steve says something to them that she can't hear but suspects is an excuse to slip away. She ends up following Robin and Nancy to sit at a table while the guys order drinks, but every second that passes is spent in nervous anticipation. Her leg bounces beneath the table with a force that could rattle it if they collided.

A glance at the clock tells her there's a minute left until he's expecting her back there. Time stretches on forever while she waits what feels like an inconspicuous amount of time to follow him to the bathrooms. Just before the big hand hits the top of the clock, she pushes her seat out and stands.

She says, "Be right back," and walks off in the direction of the stairs that lead down to the one-room bathroom.

It's darker the further she follows the path he took. The lights down here are no longer neon, but rather a buttery yellow that gets soaked up by the plain white surrounding her on either side. There are two hallways. A sign, which is actually a piece of paper taped to the wall with handwriting in sharpie, states that the manager's office is to the right and the bathroom is to the left.

There's a strange sensation bubbling in her stomach, and it takes longer than she'd like to admit to realize it's nervousness. The thing is, that’s a feeling she hasn't felt in ages in regard to being intimate with Steve. They broke through the awkward stage after the second time they had sex, and though the return of those nervous jitters catches her off guard, she can't say it doesn't excite her. Just thinking about what went down in the car, what she felt when she realized what he wants her to call him in bed, makes her press her thighs together to relieve the pulsing ache that has been reignited there.

Her closed fist knocks on the door a few times.

Silence.

"Steve," she says softly, then looks over her shoulder to ensure nobody is down here to see what they're up to. "It's just me."

There's a moment of pause before the door swings open and she is tugged inside by a strong hand that latches onto her wrist. It happens so fast, it's hard for her to keep track of their surroundings as the door is slammed shut, locked, and promptly used to throw her up against. The air is knocked from her body from the impact of him crashing into her, but she couldn't care less. The second his lips touch hers, she forgets any physical feeling other than those which he provides.

Steve's hands sink into her hair, cradling both sides of her head, and he uses it to direct her however he pleases. Whether he wants her to come closer or deepen the kiss, she is at the mercy of his desires. He bites down on her lower lip hard, and her mouth falls open in an inhale that he uses as an opportunity to slip his tongue inside. He kisses her as if the world depends on it. It isn't until she's on the verge of gasping for air that he gives her a break.

"God, you drive me insane," he murmurs into her mouth between little kisses that melt her heart. His hands wander anywhere she'll allow them to; her arms, back, waist, hips, ass, and tits. The warm palms of his hands explore her eager body as though he hasn't already done it a million times before. "You gonna let me fuck you, baby?"

She nods into the heated kiss, not wanting to waste a precious second of their time in here, but that isn't enough. No, he wants something from her. Something that he won't allow this to continue without hearing. With how wet she was for him in the car after he owned up to his newly found kink, he has blown past any reservations he once had for doing this with her. If anyone else were to know, he'd blush as red as a tomato, but she would never judge him. Least of all over something she finds arousing too.

His knee is pressed up between her thighs to put pressure on her overworked clit, and she cannot think straight to give him the response he wants. But she knows that's why he did it. A newer edge of muted sadism shows itself in him, not necessarily in the form of physical pain or punishment but in the form of enjoying her struggling. In giving her pleasure, he frustrates her, and it brings a smirk to his face.

He pulls his lips, now smeared with her red lipstick, out of reach, using the hands in her hair and the knee between her thighs to keep her pinned there. The lipstick is smattered along his lips and on the skin around it as well with a few marks left on his cheek and jaw. Not ideal for hiding the evidence of their secret tryst, but that's a bridge they'll cross later. As of now, he enjoys making her squirm.

She grinds forward against his knee for more as she whines, nose to nose with him, "Fuck me." Their lips manage to catch for a second before she whispers, looking up into his eyes through mascara-coated lashes, "Please, daddy."

For how shy she is trying out the new nickname in this context, she hides her insecurity well. Either that or he was too busy freaking the fuck out inside listening to her say that to care whether or not she was getting sheepish about it. Whatever the finer details are, it doesn't matter. Because that is the only thing he needed to lose what remained of his self-control.

Steve swings her around to face the sink in a matter of seconds. As she realized in the car, his strength is something she tends to overlook until moments like these. Sure, she'll always take the time to admire his biceps in his polo shirts or his thighs in a well-fitted pair of jeans, but it isn't until he starts to manhandle her like this that she remembers. In the past year he’s begun to grow into his tall frame.

A sharp breath is sucked in through her teeth as he bends her over the small, rickety sink. One hand is pressed to the middle of her back to force it to arch a little while the other makes quick work of the belt holding his jeans up. There isn't much time to spare considering their friends will expect them back in roughly six minutes, so he loses formality. It's urgent, almost primal, and they both know they're on the same page in regards to how hot they find it.

She is brought face to face with the dirty mirror and watches him undo his pants with his brows furrowed in frustration. Reading his mind isn't necessary, she already knows what's going on in there. After suffering through that car ride with her unknowingly pushing all of his buttons and getting him worked up, he's on the verge of crying, he's so sexually frustrated. Any delay in him getting inside of her pulls an annoyed little groan from the back of his throat.

The belt comes free from the buckle with an exasperated, "Finally," falling from his pretty pink lips as he yanks it out from the belt loops of his jeans and tosses it blindly across the room. It ends up hitting the metal trash can with a resounding, "Clang!" where the buckle collided with it, but they continue on in a frenzy.

Once his jeans and underwear are around his thighs, he wastes no time. He doesn't even wait to take her underwear off and stuff them into his back pocket to jerk off with later, he hooks two fingers into the crotch of her panties, pulls the wet fabric to the side, and guides his neglected cock to her. He teases her entrance for a split second. Both the release from her last orgasm and the precome collected at the tip of his cock makes for slick lubrication, and even if he wanted to, he doesn't think he could stop himself from slamming in the rest of the way once he nudges the tip inside of her.

They both cry out together at the feeling of their bodies merging so suddenly. For Steve, it's a cry of relief. He's been fantasizing about this for a month, and now that it's happening, he can't believe it's real. There's a dream-like surreality to it once it clicks with him that this is happening, that she really is bent over with her skirt around her waist for him in the bathroom of a dive bar, and it makes him twitch inside of her. More importantly, though, it makes him take a short pause to look at her.

He bends over so his chest is flush with her back—which makes her moan at the shift in angle caused by it—and brushes her hair from her face as she turns her head to the side. Her forehead is pressed up against the mirror, lips parted to take in deep breaths, and he feels her pushing her ass back against his hips and thighs in a request for him to move.

Still, he takes the time to admire her and says, kissing her cheek, "Love you."

This softens her tensed face.

She opens her mouth to parrot the words back to him but finds herself unable. Because the very moment she takes a breath to speak, he pulls out until just the tip is left inside of her and thrusts back into the hilt. Her jaw is slack with a mix of surprise and pleasure from the shift in pace, and she barely gets the chance to brace her hands on the edges of the sink for stability before he starts to pound her into it with all of his strength.

The sheer force of it jostles the sink beneath them to the cadence of his movements. It leaves her to hope it doesn't give out on them for a second before that thought disappears. It leaves her the second it appears because she has no capacity to think about anything other than what he is doing to her. And just because they have to be quick doesn't mean that he won't try to get one more orgasm out of her. Although she must admit, the idea of him using her like that elevates the gratification of it.

The intensified dominance he exhibits doesn't make it difficult to imagine. The way he keeps her trapped between his body and the sink, taking her exactly how he wants with no regard for where they are or if anybody overheard, it drives her wild. This new side to Steve is something she could get used to playing around with every now and then.

"Daddy," she whines, "I want you to use me. Fuck me like you hate me."

A breathy moan escapes him at this, and she can feel his reaction in how different the next returning thrusts. More frantic and carnal, a knee-jerk reaction to hearing her say that. Their bodies mold together perfectly. Every curve and edge of her fits to him as if they were made for each other, and she thinks they were. Whatever it is that decides, whether it be fate, a religious figure, or their DNA itself, designed them with each other in mind.

Steve curses under his breath at her, then says, panting, "You're filthy, fuck"—there's an abrupt pause in his speaking seeing that she purposely clenched around him, trying her best to give him the best fuck of his life regardless of whether she gets off again or not—"God, you feel so fucking good." His voice is breathy and hot in her ear. "Perfect little pussy."

One of his hands sneaks between her and the sink and dips into her panties to start rubbing her clit. It's already obvious to them both that he won't last long, and considering the amount of time, or lack thereof, that they have, he won't try to stave it off for long. So, he is dead set on getting her to come before him. He pulls out all the stops, tries every trick in the book, and hopes her first orgasm warmed her up enough for another.

The other hand settles on her back again, his torso lifting up off of her back so that he's standing behind her, and presses down for her to deepen the arch of her back and push her ass up closer to him. With her positioned like this, he starts hitting that sweet spot inside of her on every thrust.

She gasps a soft, "Daddy," and another hard snap of his hips sends her clawing at the sink.

The whole time, he keeps working her clit in tight circles with his fingertips and praising her through every second of it. Everything he says right now makes up for the forced silence they endured on the ride here. He tells her every thought in his head, ranging from professions of love to whatever other filthy things that come to mind, and she soaks up the attention gratefully.

It builds inside of her like a spring readying to bounce—the anticipation of her climax is nearly undoing in and of itself. It's a weightless, unending type of pleasure that rids her mind of any shame or fear of being interrupted. Though it makes her face heat up whenever she calls him daddy, she doesn't hesitate to say it now. In fact, the closer she draws to her end, the more rapidly it comes from her mouth.

It becomes apparent that they like this more than either of them bargained for, especially her. She wasn't the one who proposed it, after all. She was caught off guard by how hot she found it when he admitted to it in the car, but now? Now, she's done for. Now that they've gone through that door, there's no going back, and she's glad for it. Though Steve has always been skilled when it comes to women, this is the fasted he has made someone come before.

She's so turned on that the wet sound of his cock pumping in and out of her fills the cramped room. It feeds into the perfect storm of stimulation that pushes her to the brink of another orgasm. All of it—Steve, the sound of his voice, the taboo of what they're doing, and the physical feeling itself—fulfills every fantasy she's had since figuring out what sex was in the first place.

"Steve," she whines and reaches back to squeeze at his hip. Though hearing her call him daddy gets him going, nothing compares to when she says his name. "M'gonna come—"

And being the sweet, caring man he is while simultaneously railing her half to death over a sink, he says, "Go on. I've got you, peach. I'm not going anywhere."

Y/N comes undone with a moan. The mirror presses harder into her forehead with every rough thrust that pushes her into it, though she isn't inclined to care about the dull pain amidst her second blissful peak of the night. And not only is he left to watch her come beneath him, he feels it too. Every wave of pleasure that washes over her makes her spasm and squeeze down around his cock tightly enough to bring him to the edge of release as well.

He holds off for the time it takes her to ride out the intensity of her orgasm, rubbing her clit and fucking into her at the same brutal pace he kept before, and waits until she's hugging the sink and squirming from him in sensitivity to do anything.

Steve pulls out of her with no small amount of dissatisfaction for the seconds it takes to lift her up on unsteady legs, flip her around, and hoist her up onto the lip of the sink.

The shift in height leaves her disoriented and clinging her arms around his shoulders as to not slip off, but, deep down, she knows she doesn't need to. He wouldn't let anything happen to her, and that's part of what she loves about being with him. It plays into the new kink they're exploring and the power dynamic of it, the sense of protection and safety that occurs when surrendering herself to him.

There's a brief moment of fumbling in which he tugs her to the edge of the sink and frantically tries to line himself back up with her entrance, but once he settles between her parted thighs and sinks into her again, there's nothing awkward or fumbling about his actions. Every needy thrust is precise in depth and force, chasing the same high she came down from seconds ago.

The hand he wraps up in her hair yanks her head back for him to look into her eyes. He follows down the curve of her jaw, her neck, and to the cleavage visible beneath the see-through top covering her body. As he does this, she takes the time to survey him as well. It's hard to think straight through the aftershocks of her orgasm mixed with a sensitivity that almost makes her start to jerk away from him, but nothing will stop her admiring him.

Strands of his hair have been jostled out of place by their exertions, and the red lipstick smeared over his lips, jaw, and neck suits him better than she would've expected. Although, it's Steve, so she shouldn't count anything out when it comes to him being able to pull off a look. He makes everything look beautiful in a cool, James Dean sort of way that oozes effortlessness. (It isn't effortless at all, actually. She learned that soon after getting together with him and observing his extensive hair routine).

"You look so good fucking me, daddy," she can't help but blurt it out in a starry-eyed daze. The arms wrapped around his shoulders slide up to circle his neck, tugging him in until their mouths are brushing on the upstroke of his thrusts. "I can't believe you're mine."

The sound of her name muttered under his breath like a prayer has a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. His efforts in fucking her have doubled at this point. Rather than indulging in the pace and depth she finds most satisfying, he simply uses her to chase his orgasm. It draws small gasps and whines from her, but he doesn't slow down. He trusts her to tell him if and when to stop.

She taunts, "You like this, don't you? Using me to get off like I'm just a little fucktoy?"

Steve nods with his face pressed against hers.

"I—fuck—yeah, I love it. I love you."

His voice is caught halfway between its normal tone and a whine as he says it. It's almost hard to discern what he's saying with everything else that's happening. Between the heavy breathing, moans, and the obscene sound of their fucking that can likely be heard on the other side of the door, his voice starts to get lost within it.

The next few strokes are particularly sloppy, laced with an urgency none of the rest have had, so she can sense him coming before it hits him. His cock twitches inside of her, and he's already moving to pull out and jerk himself off onto her belly before she intervenes. He has pulled out halfway by the time she wraps her legs around his hips to push him the rest of the way back in and whispers a hurried, "Stay, stay," into the hairswidth of space between their parted lips. And he can't do anything but surge forward to kiss her as he tips over the edge.

Usually, he tends to opt on the side of pulling out even though she takes contraceptive pills. There have been countless instances of her complaining about how messy the cleanup is, and half the time neither of them wants to deal with it dripping out of her and staining their sheets. But, in the rarer event that she asks for it, he goes nuts.

Steve slams his hips forward into her a few more times before stilling inside of her with his hands balling her skirt up into fists, making little thrusts as he pumps her full of cum. For him, there is nothing like coming inside of her. It takes an average orgasm and increases the intensity tenfold, and considering that she's still crying out for him, calling him daddy as she thanks him for coming inside her, this one is unlike anything he's felt.

He stays pressed deep inside of her until his cock begins to soften, then slowly pulls out. Cum drips from her fucked-out hole onto the sink while he watches for a second, transfixed by the lewd image that'll likely be his sole source of masturbation material for the coming months before he reaches over to grab paper towels to clean her up with.

"Everything alright?" He asks. "It wasn't too much, was it?"

"No, it was perfect."

There's no sign of the domineering side of him that came out in the car. Now, he's all soft touches and insistent chivalry—that is, if wiping cum from your girlfriend's thighs in the bathroom of a bar can be considered anything close to chivalrous.

The paper towel is tossed aside into the trash can and her panties are moved back in place to keep any more of his release from spilling out. She nods, leaning up to peck his lips. Her arms are still propped over his shoulders when she pulls away to speak.

"I love you too, you know that?"

Steve gives a hum in response. His eyes are heavy-lidded from the exhaustion felt from head to toe after what they did. He always gets like this after he comes, sleepy-eyed and affectionate to the extent that he often struggles not to fall asleep cuddling with her. He's far too hung up on something she said to him earlier to want to sleep, however.

I can't believe you're mine.

There was once a time when Steve worried he'd never meet a woman who felt that way about him. For most of his life, Steve was reduced to whatever role people wanted him to fill. For Tommy and Carol, it was the popular rich kid also known as "King Steve" who led the basketball team and partied with them. For his parents, it has always been the "seen but not heard" son who went from being a promising young man to a failure or inconvenience at best. For Nancy Wheeler, he was a placeholder for the next guy. And it isn't something he holds against her. He needed to go through what happened with her to get to where he is today, but that doesn't mean it hurt any less.

All Steve Harrington wanted was to be wanted. He wanted someone, just one person, who woke up each morning with him as their first thought. He wanted someone who didn't think his love for them was bullshit. He wanted someone who'd look after their "kids" with as much care as he did. He wanted someone who loved him, someone who he didn't have to fill a role for. And, with her, he doesn't need to be anything but himself. With, her Steve can just be Steve, and that's enough. For once in his life, he's enough.

With total security in his belief of the words, he says softly, "I know."

Then, since there always is one when it comes to his girl, the other shoe drops.

"You know, for someone who likes being called daddy in the sack," she teases him as if she wasn't equally as aroused by the whole situation. "You're a bit of a perv, actually."

There it is, he thinks to himself. Knew it.

"Oh, screw you!"

She doesn't miss a beat.

"You just did."

The couple erupts into a fit of tired giggles, their limbs still entangled in a mess of sweaty skin and their appearances an utter disaster. After a moment, the laughter quiets and leaves them with nothing to do but stare into each other's eyes in the dim lighting of the bathroom. It takes him a while to work up the nerve to ask her the question he's had on his mind since the car, though it may seem self-explanatory with how she reacted in here.

"You liked it, though, right? I mean, the whole daddy thing. I know it's a lot, and I know you were joking but I'm sure it may seem a bit pervy if you don't know me, and—"

His rambling is shushed by her finger pressing into his lips.

"Of course, I liked it." She means to go on, but then becomes distracted by the lipstick that stains her finger where it presses to his lips. Her thumb is sucked into her mouth for a second and returns to his face to start rubbing off the makeup. "Thank God it's gonna be dark up there or else everyone would know what we've been—"

A banging on the door behind him makes Steve jump in her embrace, spinning around and placing himself in front of her body to shield her on instinct before his mind catches up. It's no inter-dimensional murderer like Vecna or a Demogorgon coming to finish the job, it's a cranky, drunk old dude pounding on the door who's likely two seconds from pissing his pants by the sound of it. Hearing him yell through the barrier separating them relaxes Steve's tense shoulders.

He turns back to Y/N to see her already staring at him. Her eyes have turned from bright and mischievous to a softened, sympathetic expression. She treats him so gently, down to the way she looks at him, and it's something he's never known how to accept. He's always the protector, the first to throw himself into the line of fire, the babysitter, but rarely did anyone check up on him the way he does them. Until her.

"Come on," he says, "We better get back up there before any of them realize how long we've been gone."

They may have gone nine minutes rather than six, but, with all things considered, they'll take it as a win. Plus, they realize once they ascend the stairs once more and find their places amongst their friends, nobody seems to notice. They made sure to clean the lipstick off their faces, fix their hair to the best of their abilities, and triple-check to ensure there weren't any suspicious stains on her black skirt.

In the end, Steve joins Eddie beside the old "out of service" jukebox to give Y/N some girl time with Robin and Nancy. It's not like they didn't get plenty of one on one time in the bathroom. But, right when he reaches Eddie and outstretches his hand for the beer he'd been babysitting until his return, he is thrown off by his friend's eyes flickering up and down between his face and his crotch.

The explanation comes a second later.

"Your fly's down."

He utters, "Oh shit," and turns toward the wall to zip it back up.

The following minute and a half is quiet. He took the beer from Eddie as soon as he fixed the zipper situation and turned back around to lean against the wall with his face flushed pink. Luckily for him, it's hard to tell with this lighting. Unluckily for him, it doesn't take good lighting to read body language, and he wears his heart on his sleeve whether he likes it or not. By the end of this deafening silence, he's bracing himself for it. It's palpable in the air around him and visible in the smile gradually fighting its way to fruition on Eddie's face.

He watches from the corner of his eye as Eddie observes Y/N talking to the other girls at their table not far away. Though tamed by her attempts to put herself back together, her hair is sporting a bedhead-esque appearance that is a sharp contrast to the put-together style she disappeared downstairs with. They both take a sip from their glasses, then...

"Harrington, you absolute hound dog—"

"Shut it, Munson."

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #stranger things fanfiction #fanfiction

[jeongin-lvr]

ᵎ　🍶　⊹ forget him, h. hyunjin

ᝰ✧ 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀！ 𝗈𝗋𝖺𝗅 （𝖿！𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖾𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀）， 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄𝗎𝗉 𝗌𝖾𝗑，𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀，𝗁𝗒𝗎𝗇𝗃𝗂𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗄𝖾𝗒 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗒 𝖽𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗄 𝗅𝗈𝗅，𝗁𝗒𝗎𝗇𝗃𝗂𝗇 𝖻𝖺𝗌𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝗒／𝗇， 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍， 𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗎𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝗎𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗇𝖽，𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗂𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗍𝖾𝖽．

[ 4703 words ] ✩ [ do not repost ] ✩ [ 𝗆．𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 ]

𝗪𝗘𝗥𝗘 breakups always this hard? I don't remember feeling this amount of pain the last time I broke up with someone. In fact, the last four boyfriends I had, I probably didn't cry once after our breakup. It wasn't necessarily that I wasn't sad or hurt by the breakup, but rather that it didn't burn as much.

I huffed, sitting on the floor was usually comforting, but now it felt cold and empty.

Especially without him.

I heard the door knock, but I couldn't bring myself up from the position I sat in; either my legs didn't work or I didn't really comprehend that the noise at the front door was a knock but either way I didn't answer it.

Which led to more knocks, they were rhythmic and consistent but quiet. But I sat still and immobile on the floor, eyes glued to the blank cream colored wall beside the oak wood doorway. I saw the hazy complexion of someone through that clouded mirror pane that stood angular at the top of the door.

Someone who had, what looked to be, pretty blonde hair, long at least to their shoulders. I could see them glance around. And that's when I realized it was Hyunjin.

I finally scurried up, finding the courage to finally stand. I scrambled toward the door, opening it hastily. I met the eyes of the boy, his brown, galaxy of chocolate irises meeting mine. I found it in myself to smile, he returned the favor, widening his arms and meeting me in the middle.

I gratefully joined the hug, my breath wavering while I resisted the urge to let my tears slip. Resisting the urge to cry was always hard when you're surrounded by people you care about; the sting of salt brines hurts more. But I sucked in a breath and pulled apart from his hug when I began to feel the pain subside.

I glanced up at the taller boy, noticing his calm, empathetic expression. He gave a weak smile, somber yet polite.

He didn't say anything until I did, "Gosh, Hyun, I'm sorry for calling you out so late..." I felt embarrassed that I'd let my emotions get the best of me, I felt like a nuisance. And no one likes to feel like nuisance.

Hyunjin raised a hand to my cheek, brushing away the sticky tears that began to dry at the corners of my eyes.

"It's not late at all," Hyunjin affirmed. Though the clock on the microwave just a foot away said otherwise, "It's only, like, 1 a.m. no biggie."

I couldn't help but laugh. He had an effortless humor, though he was quiet and always made me feel safe, his teasing jokes always helped me distract myself from whatever was bothering me.

"Right, no biggie," I replied, allowing him into my home and closing the door behind me. I watched the taller boy walk in with his hands in his pockets, eyes wandering as he looked at my house.

Admittedly, it was messy. The dishes in the sink were unkept and the couch was covered in pillows and random trinkets that shouldn't have been there at all. I hid my face, ashamed at the mess.

But before I could come up with some lame excuse, Hyunjin turned around and gave a wry smile. As if he understood. And a small part of me melted again, I felt the salt seer my vision until I blinked it away. Hyunjin's expression didn't diminish, his smile never faded. He looked effortlessly beautiful.

"So, how are you doing, Y/n?" Hyunjin asked, stepping closer until our feet were merely inches apart. I sighed, unsure why his expression was beginning to make my heart flutter. His eyes reflected me, they were so wide and caring; I could feel the passion ooze out of every word

I blinked away and chuckled, brushing off the question in fear of scaring him off with... emotions. Emotions are hard.

Carefully, I stepped toward the counter and began to toss unclean dishes and pans into the sink, realizing suddenly that the kitchen was beginning to grow dirtier and dirtier by the second. My eyes refused to meet his again.

"I'm fine. Y'know, could be better- um, you can sit down if you like," I was rambling, the words weren't really making sense. And emotions were always hard to put into words; maybe that's because it's hard to put emotions you can't understand into words.

You can never put into words what you don't really understand.

"Fine? Thats what you say when you don't want to answer the question," Hyunjin have a dry chuckle, unsure what to say to help you open up to him. He wanted you to open up to him, that's all he wanted. Hyunjin prayed that you felt safe enough to do so, "Talk to me, Y/n."

Hyunjin began to help me around the kitchen, clearly ignoring the last bit of my rambling.

I turned my head to him, only for a split second as I tried to construe my words in a way that wouldn't sound bat shit crazy.

How could I tell him that the guy who I thought loved me, dumped me for some chick he met last week? That's embarrassing. So, unimaginably embarrassing.

I blushed and glanced away. Hyunjin didn't know what was happening, or why you were avoiding his eyes, but it was beginning to piss him off. All he wanted to do was to look at you and listen; but he can't listen if you're not speaking.

I continued to scramble about, finally putting the last dirty dish in the sink, and turning to him with a forced smile that made my face feel like strings were pulling at the corners of my lips.

"It's fine, Hyun," I reaffirmed, crossing my arms playfully without seeming standoff-ish. At least I hope i didn't seem that way.

He gave me a look, as if he knew what was brewing in my mind. A small part of me got butterflies when he looked at me like that. For some odd, godforsaken reason, I liked the way his eyes bore into me like that. Or the way his lips curled wide into a unsure scowl. Or especially the way that little mole under his eyes curled when his eyes creased.

For some reason I felt the need to kiss that mole. But I bit my tongue and turned back around, facing the tile backwash behind the counter.

"Y/n..." Hyunjin spoke in a sing song voice, tiptoeing over and leaning on the counter beside me, eyes forcefully staring, urging me to stare back.

I blinked and met his eyes; a wave of nervousness washed over me when I realized just how close our noses were, he was practically breathing on my face. I caught a whiff of his cologne- or was it just how he smelled naturally -it resembled the smell of milk chocolate, and a bit of lavender.

He smelled like fresh lavender and milk chocolate. I didn't know anyone could smell that way. When he had hugged me earlier I didn't catch this smell, I was too focused on holding the tears. But now that he was so close, and I was focusing on him, it was divine.

"Y/n," He repeated, making my gaze shift back to his, he sighed, taking my cheek in hand. It was definitely to comfort me but my heart beat sped up to the point where I felt like it would leap out of my chest, "Talk to me. Please. I want to help you."

"I... Hyun, he left me," I finally spoke. But I gasped when I realized I'd fallen for Hyunjin's charms. He seemed taken aback too, his eyes widened and his head twitched in a way that made him seem angry. And for a split moment I thought I saw a flash of rage coat his features.

"Chan broke up with me." I restated, eyes fluttering while I somberly lowered my face until my eyes met the ground.

Hyunjin was silent for a minute, and for a moment I though he would laugh, tease me. Or maybe even be mad at me. Ask me what I did to deserve this, or blame me. But Hyunjin's touch became firm, his touch hot as he raised his other hand to my face too.

He cupped my cheeks, soft eyes remaining still, "Oh, Y/n, don't cry. Please don't cry."

But his words only made the tears slip, the fell into his hands, grazing the soft skin of his knuckles and rolling down until the lightly tapped on the floor beneath us. I hummed, keeping my head high as if that would stop those idiotic droplets from falling.

"Oh, I think I made it worse," Hyunjin cooed, whispering while holding back his airy laughter. I chuckled too, swiping away at my eyes until they were just puffy and red, "It's okay, love. You're safe. Chan is an idiot for leaving you. It's okay." My hands rested on his chest, firmly planting themselves there and feeling the quick pace of his heart.

"Hyun, what did I do to make him leave?" I choked, breathing heavy and unsteady while his lips met the skin of my forehead. He kissed my forehead over and over again, comforting hands still holding my cheeks even though my tears soaked his hands.

"Nothing! You didn't deserve this," Hyunjin instantly spoke, pulling his face away and narrowing his eyes, as if mad I'd even ask such a ridiculous question, "Y/n, if I were a bit stronger I'd go over and beat the fucking shit-"

"Jin, don't do that," I giggled, finally smiling wide, "But thank you. Thanks for being here for me."

Hyunjin hummed, scooping me close and holding me tightly in a hug that felt so freeing. 

He pulled apart, letting our face stay close while he just gazed at me. His eyes remained slender and still while his breath fanned my face. For a moment, it felt like a kiss until I realized our lips weren't touching.

"I... I'm always gonna be here for you," Hyunjin said shakily, leaning forward with every passing word he made. I found myself following his lead, tiptoeing so our mouths could meet. But just before our lips grazed the other he spoke again, "I have an idea, Y/n."

I hummed, "Hm?"

"How about I help you forget?"

I paused, blinking my eyes away from his lips and meeting his eyes again.

"Forget what?"

"Him."

I gawked at the man, but not long before he pressed our lips together, casually yet so effortlessly kneading our lips together. Hyunjin hummed lowly, making this guttural sound that sent butterflies into my stomach and made my mind spin. I had to grab his arms for a second, pushing him back but never letting go of his body.

It just felt too right yet so incredibly and undeniably wrong.

"Hyun... we can't-"

But I couldn't find the words, everything went blank as I tried to reason with my own mind; I tried and failed to make sense of the way this all felt. The way his arms rested at my hips now, rubbing delicate circles into the porcelain of my skin. Or the way his eyes would trace my face, over and over again as if he was memorizing every curve and line. Hyunjin's featured remained soft, but a plague of hurt peppered his expression at my words.

"I just don't want this to be... a mistake." I whispered softly, pleading with him, worry making my eyes glaze with tears once again.

"This is not a mistake." He took a moment, letting the words sink in as my eyes fluttered again. His face drew closer and just like the first time our lips connected and sparks flew. I felt everything that was once bland and dark begin to shine like fireflies, peppering my vision in little specks.

"I want you." Hyunjin spoke again, a low and desperate growl leaving his jaw. I felt the passion in every word, his hands gently began to feel the soft fat of my thighs, then my back until he had touched every surface of my body within reach.

I couldn't say no. My hands rested desirably at his neck, feeling the soft strands of his long, ravishing hair between my fingertips. That little moan he let slip into my mouth was addicting, I could practically taste it on my tongue; and it tasted impossibly sweet, almost like an addicting sugary feeling.

"Jin-" I whined into the lovely feeling. His plump lips were working wonders against mine, between every passionate kiss was a reminder that he was here and he real. That this moment was real.

Why did such a big part of me feel so... complete? Almost like the more he kissed me, the more I'd feel. And the more I'd feel would only present to me with unlimited possibilities.

I was already forgetting Chan.

"Sh, baby, let me help you," Hyunjin muttered against my jaw, his lips planting on any surface he could find. From the corner of my mouth to the tepid warmth of my neck, his lips were there. I shivered, fingers tenderly tugging his hair until he hissed against my skin.

"Do you... want me to help you?" A look is empathy warmed his eyes as he pulled away, softly gazing for my approval. I could hear the glimmer of hope coating his words, almost pleading. And as wrong, and maybe even disrespectful it felt, I nodded firmly. Which even surprised me. I responded much to fast.

"Need you to say it, hon." He whispered through an obviously amused grin, gently pressing his hand into the soft skin of my cheeks and rubbing his thumb under my eye.

"Yes. Hyunjin, just make me forget."

"That's what I hoped you'd say." He chuckled, lips already kissing ferociously at mine. We began to back up, going through the open door of the kitchen and gingerly stepping our way into the living room.

That smell of his cologne- the perfect mix of chocolate and warmth -was beginning to make my head spin. I was growing more and more excited as he laid me flat against the couch, standing above me as he slowly unzipped his black hoodie, teeth holding the top of his cloth.

Hyunjin found himself putting on a show, his teeth held tightly to the metal hem of his sweater as his hand teasingly unzipped the fabric. He liked the way your eyes wandered, widening with every bit of skin he revealed.

He finally slid the jacket off, letting it fall on the floor and revealing the thin layer of his white tank top that firmly fit against his slim body. I ogled, my brain has never fully registered how beautiful this boy was until now. Now it just felt surreal to even be in this position with him.

My hands lightly grazed his body, feeling him tense as he leaned himself above me. With himself propped up by his elbows just above my own body, he studied my face, taking in the sight with an almost infatuated stare.

"Hyun... you okay?" I noticed that almost somber look begin to plague the glaze of water in his eyes.

He quickly shook his head, smiling and beginning to kiss my face all over, trailing wet kisses down my neck and collarbone. He muttered a quick, 'I'm fine' before tugging my top upward and off without another moment to spare.

"You're so fucking gorgeous," He mumbled, his words melting together while his pretty eyes fluttered. He almost sounded drunk as he kissed down my stomach, the warm kiss of his lips shocking me with elation.

I groaned as his kiss paused at the top of my pants, his eyes shooting to meet mine which I was compelled to return.

"Look at me, okay?" Hyunjin was gentle as he pulled my pants down, widening his eyes as he stared at my bare thighs, then my soaked panties that seemed to cling to the sex beneath.

I made sure to keep my eyes wide, watching as the boy slid my pants down, anticipating something beautiful as he peppered short and soft kisses to my inner thigh. As if to reassure me with his lips.

I whispered his name. Hyunjin's eyes darted to meet mine, an instantaneous wave of desire, security, and bliss filled my soul. I couldn't help but smile, he grinned back, planting one last kiss to my thigh before flashing his eyes back to my cunt.

A different sparkle glistened in his eye, he looked almost maniacal as he breathed hard against my clothed cunt. I shuddered, barely whispering his name.

I felt his lips kiss my sex, his warm and wet lips electrocuting me with pleasure; short lived, blissful pleasure. I groaned, silently begging him to make me feel more, for his tongue to press into me- to stop teasing me.

"Hyun- please... stop teasing me," I met his eyes as they glowed up at me; hiding the thoughts rapturing across his mind. Silence filled the air around us, making my heart almost stop.

I wondered what made him pause... my begging? Did he not like it?

"Beg again," Hyunjin spoke, pressing two sudden, hot fingers firm against my cunt, eliciting just enough pressure for me to feel warm in the face.

"W-what?"

"Beg. Now."

I thought for a moment, the effortless pleasure I got as he slowly... so painfully slowly... rubbed at my clit. A feeling frustratingly amazing, I hummed in a shaky breath of air.

Hyunjin's expression didn't change, if anything, he looked darker. He knew what he wanted, he wouldn't press on unless I did as he said.

Oh, he definitely liked begging.

"Baby, please," I pleaded, feeling his face grow closer and closer to my cunt until his tongue pressed a wet strip down my cunt; I helplessly shivered, my eyes fluttering at his slightest touch. "Need... it. I need- I need you."

"Need me to what, baby?" Hyunjin demanded with another lick to my underwear, pressing extra firmly against my clit.

I gasped, hands now in his hair, almost pressing his face further into my cunt.

"Need you... to make me feel good," He remained still, keeping my face toward him as my hands combed through his beautiful locks of hair.

"Fuck, I love when you look at me like that," Hyunjin groaned, allowing his hands to finally undress me in one swift motion. He let my underwear fall off my legs, tossing them out of sight and out of mind.

Almost as soon as my bottoms were gone, he began kissing and licking at my cunt, quietly groaning into it as I pulled at his hair. His lips wrapped around my clit, sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin there until my eyes began to beg to be shut. I whined and moaned and pleaded into nothing, like a mewling cat. His eyes would occasionally blink back up at me, checking if I was alright and once he'd confirm it he'd go back to sucking on the sensitive bits of my cunt.

God, was he amazing at it. His tongue slipped into my drenched hole, exploring me with licks in and out. His nose and upper lip would work wonders on my clit. I was beginning to see stars.

And his quiet groans leaving his mouth, as if he were the one getting all the pleasure, that was by far the best part.

I grew quiet apart from my whimpers as his tongue quickened in pace, filling me up then leaving me just as quick.

While his tongue occupied my dripping cunt, his hands held down my squirming thighs, messily gripping them. His hold was firm, right enough to leave red and blue bruises I was sure I'd admire later.

I felt that little bundle of desire and nerves tickle me just right, begging to be released. My hands knotted in his dark hair while I chanted tint whispers of his name, over and over again like a prayer. Before I could even warn him my cum was leaking out onto his tongue, thighs shaking and attempting to close around his head. Hyunjin groaned, nails digging into my skin, tongue helping me ride out my delicious orgasm.

"So good, Y/n," He spoke lowly, rising from between my thighs with shiny lips and a wet chin; the male leaned his body above me, arms flexed just beside my head, giving me a view of the veins growing in his arm, "Gonna have to taste you again later..."

His peachy lips kissed mine, the taste of my own fluids drenching my mouth, salty yet addicting.

But despite the kiss on my lips completely erasing any negative thing I could've been thinking, my mind still wandered elsewhere. Soon the thought of the lovely boy in front of me was replaced with Chan; someone who left me without an explanation why, or how, or at least a respectful goodbye. It was like I was feeling my heart break all over again, chipping more and more pieces away.

"Still thinking about him aren't you?" Hyunjin noticed the way my eyes wandered, disconnected from where I was presently.

"I..."

Hyunjin held the delicate bit of my chin, tipping my face up with his free hand. His gushing, gorgeous eyes intently gazing into mine like chocolate swirls. I could see the perfectly marked beauty mark under his eye, begging me to kiss it, aching for my love.

And suddenly I wasn't thinking about Chan anymore, Hyunjin was all here. He was right here for me, begging me to stay in this moment.

"I'll fuck his memory out of you, baby," Hyunjin spoke surely, breath shaky yet exuding dominance I'd never seen in the boy before, "I'll help you. I promise."

I whined, eyes watching as he unzipped his jeans, taking them off swiftly. His eyes laid on me as his hands worked down the fabric of his boxers, giving me a showcase of his cock; probably the prettiest cock I'd ever seen.

I gave a whiny gasp at the pretty sight. My eyes wandering to the reddened tip that oozed with desire; my mouth went dry yet my cunt throbbed with wetness.

My eyes fluttered back to Hyunjin's in an instant when I felt his hands grip my thighs. A small moan left his plump lips as he guided his cock to my entrance, painfully slow with lidded eyes of lust.

"Say it, baby, c'mon," Hyunjin groaned, his sweaty hair dripping and tickling my cheeks, "Tell me how much you need it."

My palms gripped his shoulders, tightening as he just barely let his tip slip in, the stretch barely noticeable but the desire overpowering.

"Just put it in," I moaned, another inch pushed in, "Put it all the way in... and fuck my brain out... please." I added a polite ending to my vulgar sentence, suddenly feeling shy. I covered my warm cheeks with my palms, hoping he wasn't laughing at my desperation.

But instead I felt him pump into me fully, cockwarming for a moment. Still and breathy as he stared down at me.

"You're so goddamn beautiful," Hyunjin groaned, taking my hands from my cheeks and holding my wrists beside my head, charging his hips in and out of me at an incredibly steady pace.

I moaned in sync with his delectable thrusts, each one hitting a new spongey spot within me, morphing my face into a new look of pleasure.

"S'good!" I breathlessly whimpered between pumps, unable to form any other fathomable word. I tried so hard to keep my eyes wide, to let them meet his in reassurance that he was making me feel good- more than good.

But they fluttered shut, absolutely wrecking my mind with his cock.

"No, no, no," He grabbed my chin again, harsher but making sure to make gentle touches, "Keep them on me, I'm gonna be the one taking care of you from now on, aren't I?"

I nodded meekly, my mouth opening to agree but only being stifled by a moan. The boy chuckled lightly between a shaky pant, it was beginning to get harder to keep up with this pace. But he remained resilient, eyes squinting before widening again, watching as I squirmed.

"Aren't I, sweetheart?" Hyunjin breathed down on me, sweat trickling from his chin as his breathes became more and more erratic. The more erratic the more pornographic they sounded, only fueling the fire of my rising orgasm.

"Y-yes! Jinnie... ah, only you."

"Not that idiot Chan, hm?" Hyunjin persisted, thrusts sloppy, hitting my sweet spot spontaneously. I let out nimble cries that were muffled by his own lips meeting mine, sloppily conjoining our bodies.

"Never," I whimpered between a kiss.

"Forget him," Hyunjin sounded like he was pleading now, his eyes fluttering as he disconnected our mouths and began to work on sensitive bits of my collarbone, "You're mine."

"Just mine." He muttered again into my skin, allowing me to absorb his words, "Fuck! Baby, I'm gonna cum... are you close?"

My fingers pulled at his hair, nails grazing the soft flesh of his neck, "So... close. Don't stop!"

He groaned, pussy drunk and so desperate for release. Hyunjin resisted, withholding that high that was so desperately calling for him, burning to be set free.

Hyunjin began to drill into me harder, maintaining the same speed but hitting deeper into me like a hammer to a nail. My eyes rolled, mouth widened as the delicious embrace of my orgasm arose.

Hyunjin groaned, feeling the pulsating delight of my cunt wrap around his cock, needy and aching.

"Cum- fuck, I'm cumming!" I screamed, my moans stifled by his hand that gently held my jaw, middle and pointer finger pressing my tongue and silencing me by a few octaves.

"Yeah, j-just like that," Hyunjin let his head fall onto my shoulder, last few orgasmic pumps drawing out my climax. He then quickly pulled himself out just in time for his seed to drip down my lower stomach and erotically fall between the folds of my cunt, sloppily creating a white waterfall of both of our juices.

I panted, his fingers leaving my lips and allowing more air to fill my lungs.

Hyunjin groaned as well, but quickly grabbed a tissue from the box behind my head, wiping the mess we'd made while he uttered sweet nothings to me meticulously.

"You did so well, baby..." Hyunjin spoke, kissing the skin of my inner thigh as he cleaned, reassuring me in every way; physical, verbally- any way he could manage.

"S'perfect," He uttered again, meeting my eyes, genuine infatuation piercing his chocolate gaze. Silence coated the air between us. I sat up on the leverage of my elbows, cheeks warm and embarrassed from what we'd done; yet my body felt fulfilled, it felt right where we were right now.

"Jin, do you..." I broke the silence, suddenly aware of how long we'd stayed like that, "Can you kiss me?"

"A-again?"

"Please?"

The boy nodded, clearly shy but still trying to remain relaxed. He crawled over, arms on either side of my body as he craned his neck downward, gently kissing me to accommodate my request.

"Like that?"

He spoke as he pulled away, messy hair and puffy, red lips stained with the permanent gloss of our shared saliva. Hyunjin looked so damn pretty, especially in the dim light, like a moon. He glowed, beautiful and bright. And for a moment I wondered how I hadn't seen him in such a perfect view before. Now as I looked at him I saw someone who was everything I ever needed.

My Hyunjin.

"One more time," I gently held the back of his neck, pulling him down and kissing him with every ounce of love and emotion I had. Pouring my soul into that kiss.

"Are you saying you wanna go again... or...?" Hyunjin remained confused but flustered, eyes reflective of me.

"Just kiss me, like, a lot."

#oneshot #stray kids #what is happening #writing #skz #skz fanfic #skz fluff #skz imagines #skz oneshots #skz scenarios #skz smut #skz smau #skz hyunjin #skz x reader #skz stay #skz x y/n #skz x stay #hyunjin oneshot #hyunjin smut #hyunjin drabbles #kpop smut

[zgvlt]

sending your crush a survey form hcs first years (and idia shroud) x reader (separate) *ortho's is platonic, with reader having a crush on idia instead

author's note: insp. by that youtube trend! i haven't seen another writer do this for twst, but regardless this will be my own rendition and take on the trope! even though the gen concept is the same, each character has a different twist with theirs

general tags: gender neutral reader, fluff + attempt at humor, sfw, time skip after NRC graduation, not beta read, mix of text and images (for images, image desc/text version available for screen readers and those who prefer to read text over image)

wc: approx. 6k+ total (around 1k per character)

character: ACE TRAPPOLA premise/trope: sending the survey form to Ace, who's already your signfinicant other

HOW HE REACTS WHEN YOU SEND THE FORM LINK

The initial reaction is nothing out of the norm for Ace. Sure he doesn't seenzone or ghost you, but his quick replies consist of him typing variations of "LMAO" and "ARE YOU FRFR", as well as laugh reacting the message itself.

He also asks you if you're planning on becoming an influencer or streamer or something along those lines, why else would you want to make and send him a form like that?

After a few minutes, though, he'll start trying to call you, mentioning/pinging you to make sure you answer. If you're able to ignore his calls, he's going to make sure your phone is unusable with the amount of notifications he sends your way. Hey, maybe you'll even click on it and answer the call on accident!

Ace, as your significant other, probably knows your schedule so he's fairly confident that you have nothing else better to do than to answer him (he wouldn't be spamming you otherwise), so he's smug and not surprised that you eventually answer him. The first thing he tells you on call is,

"You're so lame, we're literally dating?! By the way... did you actually send this to other people?"

Makes fun of you if you say he's the only one but he also thinks it's sweet, and he says as much in a tone that sort of comes off as mocking at first, but it's clear after the first few seconds that he does think it's cute.

He's mature enough if you say you've sent it to other people. Rather than jealous, he's smug at the fact that he's the last crush, he's the end game.

Tells you to stay on the call as he answers the form. You'll notice that even as he's making fun of you with each question, the things he says versus the things he types differ from one another.

(And even if it didn't, you've become an expert at figuring out how to read Ace Trappola)

HOW HE ANSWERS THE QUESTIONS

Q: did you know that i liked you (don't lie) A: wtf did you downgrade me?? did i go from L O V E to L I K E...? damn 💔💔

Q: if yes, how did you find out A: because you were ALWAYS clinging onto me in our NRC days 🙄 like come on could you not leave me alone for a little bit damn you really had to spend every minute with me and then after graduation ur still all over me tsk tsk also you were all heart eyes whenever you looked at me I'm not dense!

Q: okay so did you ever like ME A: the way i know you’re asking this so you can get some new material to make fun of me with. who did you get that bad attitude from huh 🤔 anyway unfortunately i did, and because i know you’re going to try to punt me for that i’m jOKING we’re literally together of course i did and do

Q: what do you like about me A: [ticks the boxes: everything, about, me, other] wowww maybe i do hype you up too much what is this behavior

Q: how did we meet A: you were in trouble and i saved your butt no this is not historical revisionism

Q: most memorable moment(s) w/ me A: to get the sap out, every moment with you is memorable awwww im so sweet, anyway now that i said that - everytime we got in trouble w/ trein or crewel bc we kept passing notes - group bonding activity by making fun with deuce (with love!) - the time we got caught sneaking out by riddle, trey, AND cater like triple kill?? - i guessss our first date (see point three) (theyve NEVER let me forget it bruh)

Q: is there something you dont like abt me A: well if were being serious there are just like there are things you find annoying about me but weve talked about it before and were working through it anyway serious talk over!! if there are other replies to this let me know if i have to fight someone lol (or you can do it yourself and i can watch) (or just prank them or smth i support your rights AND your wrongs)

Q: answer this only if ur my s/o: ily A: why are you being so cute today should i be worried? KIDDING i love you too

Q: ty for answering any last words? A: its been a while since weve gone out, we should go on a date again tonight

AFTER HE ANSWERS THE FORM

Once Ace submits the form, he tells you to read his answers already, almost as if he's expecting you to speedrun through them.

You're totally free to make fun of him back for the things he typed out—he can try to complain or whine, even retaliate whatever you say, but the banter and playful arguing makes things more fun for him. He likes any and all of your attention, you know it as well as he does.

If you sent the form to anyone else, he asks if he can read their answers as well. He won't budge if you'd rather keep it private because the knowledge of him being the final choice bloats his head just fine, but wouldn't it be more fun to laugh at those who, to quote, "fumbled the bag" when it came to you?

(And, well, you can listen to him agree with the nice things they wrote about you, because he knows first hand just how lovable you really are and how lucky he really is to be with you)

When you get to the last question, he's grinning to himself—even without the camera turned on, you can just hear him smiling, like he knows that you're rolling your eyes.

Whatever, you can both share your sweet nothings in person, when the both of you get somewhere more comfortable to be more vulnerable with each other.

"So, you up for a date some time tonight? My treat!"

character: DEUCE SPADE premise/trope: Deuce getting the form from someone he's highly admired for years

HOW HE REACTS WHEN YOU SEND THE FORM LINK

He doesn't answer you for a few minutes, even though it's considered rude to just view your message. You can see that he's viewed your message, for sevens' sake! Still, you send one final message telling him to take his time with answering—Deuce was probably panicking or overreacting behind the screens.

He was. He gets the message while he's at work, and he has to try very hard to swallow his shout—it would be bad if he alarmed his co-workers, after all!

Tries to answer—both your message and your form—during his break, but decides that he needs far more time than his work break would allow, so he tries to focus on his job until he can go home.

His hands hover over the keyboard, and he reads the things he types out over and over again just to make sure he doesn't have any typos. If he's made you wait this long, he'll at least try to have good spelling!

DEUCE : are you sure you sent this to the right person?

Deuce has a bit of a hard time grasping that you could even have a crush on him—he's harbored a huge crush on you for YEARS, an admiration turned romantic affection that he's been, unfortunately, made fun of for his whole NRC career.

(His friends made fun of him for being such a coward, but confessing seemed so out of the question years ago! He had to focus on becoming an honor student, and you were just so...???)

When you reassure him that, yes, you did mean to send it to him, he replies that he'll answer it A.S.A.P! The sudden vigor gives you whiplash, and out of fear of formality you have to tell him that he can be as honest as possible.

It takes Deuce an hour at least to send in his answers, but when you look them over later you'll find that although he's trying to be polite and is clearly holding back (it's alright, you can have a proper talk about this some other time), his answers are genuine and his sweetness shines through.

HOW HE ANSWERS THE QUESTIONS

Q: How do we know each other? A: We both went to NRC and we shared a few classes, then we became friends

Q: Before this, did you know I liked you? A: No?! Not at all?! I mean I knew you liked me as a friend, because we were friends, but like-like? Like as a crush? I mean Ace and a few other people teased me about you liking me back then but I always thought it was a joke because you know? You’re you???

Q: Did you ever like me back? A: I didn’t think I would say it this way but yes?! Of course? I would be blind not to!

Q: If yes, how long did the crush last? A: [ticks the boxes: 3+ years, other] Um am I supposed to answer 3+ if it's ongoing...?

Q: If you liked me, why didn't you tell me? A: There were two main reasons… first I never thought I could have a chance with you, I didn’t want to ruin anything, second is just that I wanted to grow first into a better student and person, so I didn’t think I was ready to date either.

Q: What do you like most about me? A: Do I say just one thing…? It’s kinda hard to choose, and this is super embarrassing, you know. I guess I like that you never look down on me for my past and the fact that I’m still… not very cool. Even though you tell me I am. I like that you try to help me in whatever way you can, and I like that you’re always one of the first people to defend me when a bunch of jerks feel like causing trouble. And when you ran into my mom that one time, you told her really nice things about me (she told me even though you told her not to, sorry!) and I ended up liking you even more… I just find you reliable and respectable and I’ve always wanted to catch up to you since you were (are?) so out of my league?

Q: Could you imagine yourself dating me? A: Absolutely

Q: Thank you for answering! Sorry if this is awkward. Anything else to add? A: Wait can you tell me how long you liked me for? And a few other things I kind of want an explanation :’) Should I send a form too or do I just DM you?

AFTER HE ANSWERS THE FORM

Aside from wanting some explanations (as much as you're willing to give), honestly, Deuce is a little distraught (okay, more than a little—the crush had never really disappeared even after graduation). He genuinely thinks he lost his chance with you. After all, the title was in the past tense!

No he didn't lose his chance, but he's gearing himself up to just accept that you saw something good in him to the point that you once liked him—that, in a way, gives him a sense of happiness.

Maybe you're a mind reader, or maybe you're just good at detecting Deuce's tone from his answers and later messages, because you let him know that you're very much still into him, and if he still is then maybe he's willing to give the both of you a shot...?

At that point Deuce is very much glad to be at home because he's grinning ear to ear, face flushed like the color of his alma mater dorm. He feels like those teenage girls from those movies he watched with his mom on occasion—the ones who got butterflies in their stomach.

It's the fastest he texts back yet, sending you a stream of messages that all form the answer of a resounding YES.

Yes, he does call his mom later that night and tells her that he has a date coming soon. His mom always did wonder if he'd ever find a significant other amidst his busy career.

(His mother teases him a bit, but as embarrassing as it is to be teased like he was still a high schooler, his happiness overthrows it)

DEUCE : HUH?? OF COURSE I WANT TO GO ON A DTEA WITH YOU?? DEUCE : *DATE sorry I got excited. obviously, duh.., wow i'm seriously still not very cool, huh DEUCE : so... no pressure but when are you free to meet up?

character: JACK HOWL premise/trope: two best friends with very obvious mutual pining but have never said a word about their feelings, and now they live far apart. you send the form to Jack for closure (or resolution)

HOW HE REACTS WHEN YOU SEND THE FORM LINK

He wants to ask if this is a joke (even though the form title said it was not a prank), but refrains from sending in what he initially typed out. If you were serious, and he thinks you are, then it wouldn't be right for him to doubt or question your feelings.

It's going to take him a while to actually fully process the form title and form description alone, but he lets you know that he's not ignoring you or anything, he just needs a hot minute

JACK : Don't worry, I'm not ignoring you, but I need a moment. By the way, do you really want me to answer the form? Or do you want to just... call.

For one reason or another, perhaps you wanting to gauge his own interest in you, or perhaps you needing some time before properly having that conversation with him, you request he answer the form first.

Jack doesn't exactly like it when people beat around the bush, but he knows it must have taken a lot of courage out of you to confess to him. Braver than him, really, who never had the strength to let you know what he felt for you, feelings that were apparently required all this time.

Later, Jack would laugh to himself (or with you) at how silly the both of you were, wallowing in angst over unrequited love that was never actually unrequited.

A part of Jack does wish he knew earlier, maybe the both of you could have been dating all this time, but perhaps this was the timing that was meant for him and you... not that Jack knew anything about destiny or fate.

His answers are serious, but not cold, not completely. Warmth lingers, mostly from you imagining him reading the words to you, imagining his expressions as he does so.

His answers are also quite honest, although you can picture him getting somewhat embarrassed over how vulnerable he's being. Maybe typing things out instead of immediately saying them verbally helps him be less shy and awkward about this, too.

And when you read them, you can easily identify his fondness and affection for you, the one he's always possessed. Really, it's a wonder that it took him spelling out his feelings for you to realize how much he adores you.

HOW HE ANSWERS THE QUESTIONS

Q: did u ever realize i more than liked you? A: There were a few times where I really thought you might have liked me back, mostly by watching your body language, or the things my seniors (Leona and Ruggie) pointed out, but the “signs” felt so natural that I just pushed it aside.

Q: did u ever have feelings for me too? A: Let me say something first: why are you immediately assuming that I don’t have the same feelings for you? Like you’re expecting me to reject you? Really, you’re so… anyway. For the record, it’s not “did”, it’s “do”, I do have feelings for you, since we were students in NRC. That hasn’t changed even after we left and went our separate ways. And I don’t want to assume, and since I checked the other questions and you didn’t ask… I’ve probably liked you for just as long. Look, I know I’m actually a lot more dense than I thought I would be, but I didn’t think you would be, too.

Q: did you ever want to date me? A: I did, and I still do.

Q: if i said i still have feelings for you, and that i miss you, how would you feel? A: I would say I’m the same, and that I wish we lived nearer each other so I could see you right now, and tell you these things in person instead of a form.

Q: jack when’s ur next vacation/free day :( A: No vacation until next month, but I can free up my Sat-Sun if you want?

Q: what things do you like about me A: Everything? Is that bad to say? Even though I tried to push you aw[a]y at first, you still tried to be my friend, and then we got closer and closer. You appreciate my space, but you also keep me company. I’m used to being alone, but I’m glad that I wasn’t because you were always around. I think it would be easier to say what I don’t like about you, it’ll take less time.

Q: umm ive been asking so much, do u have any questions for me? A: A few, though I can ask the rest later 1) Is there a certain type of place you would want to visit any time soon? 2) Is there anything you want from my hometown? 3) Just making sure, you’re still single, right? 4) Do you really want to stop liking me?

Q: jackkk i really miss you :((( huhuhu A: i miss you too, more than i let you know. im sorry i rarely tell you that

Q: sorry im a mess, do u wanna add smth A: please call me when you’re done reading this (or when you can)

AFTER HE ANSWERS THE FORM

It's difficult for Jack to proceed with the rest of his day, especially when you tell him you're going to read his response, when you haven't called him yet.

Thankfully you don't make him wait for too long, although Jack was willing to wait if you had other urgent matters to attend to, or if you just needed more time to compose your thoughts.

Once in call, Jack takes the initiative to steer the conversation to the topic at hand—your feelings for him, his feelings for you, and what that meant for your relationship going forward.

The both of you lived quite a ways apart, and while that wasn't necessarily ideal (Jack desperately wanted to see you and hold you in his arms right now), he was sure he had the ability to make it work with you, as long as you were willing to do the same.

Weekend trips to see each other, perhaps moving closer to each other and moving in together in the future, those weren't out of the question.

There were certain topics that could always be decided on later, and he lets you know as much; he just needed to call you now so he could tell you what he's always wanted to for years.

"Hey, don't get over me just yet, not when I've been wanting to see you again."

character: EPEL FELMIER premise/trope: you have been flirting with Epel for years, even though the two of you are merely (unfortunately for you AND him) best friends. you send the form for fun, and get the retaliation you very well deserve

HOW HE REACTS WHEN YOU SEND THE FORM LINK

Seconds after sending the form, you're immediately laughing it off, launching excuses and reasons as to why you sent one (and made a form to begin with). In fact, even before you sent the link, you were already building it up to be "just another one of your flirtations" instead of what it really is

Epel loves you, really (and wow did it take him a while... and a whole bunch of people pointing out his feelings to actually realize it wasn't just the friendly kind of love), but he's very tired of... whatever was going on with the both of you

It's cute when you flirt with him to be honest, even though it's embarrassing and downright flustering more than half the time (probably the thing stopping him from ever trying to do the same unto you), but it always felt... nice. Even if he did lose his shit one too many times.

It'd feel even better if the both of you were actually dating, though

He doesn't think you've been flirting with him as a joke or anything, he'd definitely would've put a stop to it otherwise, but he still wants his feelings to be taken more seriously, and for you to consider that he is very capable of liking you back, and for you to actually give him a say

Well, this form would be a good chance for that, right?

His voice message is enough to make you nervous, the incoherent keyboard smash you sent right after is proof of it

"Hehe, just give me a few minutes, I'mma answer it properly!"

Epel tries to be smooth but his answers have some awkwardness to them, clearly attempting to emulate you and how you enjoy talking to him, but the attempts at flirting are not lost on you.

Still, you can just tell that it isn't just payback—he's very serious about the things he's writing, even with the quips and joking responses to your questions here and there.

It's his sheer honesty though, the way he writes like he just spills his feelings for you all over the keyboard without regard for any proper form, that ends up the most romantic and impactful.

HOW HE ANSWERS THE QUESTIONS

Q: hypotheticallyyyy, would u like me back A: Why would you need hypotheticals when I DO like you back? (Also, didn't you say you "hypothetically" loved me? Why is it "like" now?)

Q: *shakes 8ball* would u date me if ever A: The following is ticked: - signs point to yes - it is decidedly so - without a doubt - yes - definitely - outlook good - most likely - other: My sources (my heart) says yes

Q: so, did u know ur the apple of my eye A: You're so silly why am I even into vou..? Right, it's because l'm apple-solutely a fool for you.

Q: epel why are u still here TT A: WellI, if you want me to answer this seriously, it's because I'm getting impatient. I like/love you, you feel the same, we kind of act like we're dating half the time… actually a lot of people already think we're meant to be, so why aren't we dating yet? it's driving me crazy honestly, sometimes i think i'll just kiss you to shut you up whenever you think up some lame pickup line or when you want to hold my hand

Q: when'd ya realize u LOVED me <3- delulu A: Vil pointed out that I didn't bite your head off when you called me cute

Q: whats ur favorite moment with me <3 A: When we went to my hometown w/ the rest of our schoolmates, and then we separated from our group so I could give you a personal tour of my home. You joked that you would get lost and that we were on a date so you needed me to hold your hand, maybe u did want to hold hands but I also knew your hands were cold be SOMEONE forgot their gloves. We held hands the whole tour, and be people recognize me everyone assumed we were dating… but you didn't care if people thought (realized) you loved me, as long I never found out.. and because I was dense, I didn't until I recalled that day again

Q: not to fish for compliments BUT i will. list EVERTHING you like about me <3 A: 1) everything ;) INCLUDING your flirting, believe it or not 2) the way you can tease me and poke fun at me w/o belittling me 3) when you call me "cute" it makes me feel the same as when u call me "cool" 4) the way u enable+join me in, as our friends would say, ; "being chaotic good"

Q: what do you hate about me hehehe A: i hate that ur single and not dating me yet

Q: why did you finish this form epel A: because i want to raise apple trees and make jam with you in the future

AFTER HE ANSWERS THE FORM

The both of you have always been the type to joke with one another. It's not that neither of you take to having serious conversations, but it's always been about things you wanted to vent about, or Epel's thoughts on his appearance and femininity, or a few other things the both of you felt like bringing up. Never a love life.

(You have asked him if he was in a relationship a few times since graduation, likely to see if you had to steer clear and fully give up on him. He's guilty to asking the same questions.)

For someone who flirted with him a lot, you never brought it up seriously before. Not since the incident with the ghost bride.

Of course, he knows he could have stepped up much earlier, that the both of you could have been dating even back in NRC, but perhaps he wanted to wait (until he eventually became impatient), or he needed reassurance or a sign.

Epel's not very sure, and he doesn't think there's one definite reason, but that's besides the point. He finally got to tell you his feelings, and even though you've more than hinted that you feel the same, he wants to hear it from you this time, without you taking it back or pushing it as a joke it never was.

He has his moments of insecurity, too many to count especially in the past, but when he rings you on the phone and you pick up immediately, he's full of confidence, grinning in anticipation of what's to come.

"So, if I said I loved you, too, what would'ya think about it?"

character: SEBEK ZIGVOLT premise/trope: pretending the form you're making him answer is a regular survey you need participants for

HOW HE REACTS WHEN YOU SEND THE FORM LINK

If asked, you pretended it was a requisite you desperately needed participants for because Sebek would definitely take some time off his ever busy schedule to help a friend out. He gets it, getting participants is difficult! And because he's such a good friend, obviously he'll take some time out of his day to answer your survey!

Asks if he should send the form to Malleus and Lilia too but you absolutely refuse. You cite that they've exceeded the maximum age range, an answer Sebek readily accepts. An age range, how diligent of you to put that into consideration!

You can expect him to answer your form as soon as he's able to, and he tells you as much!

SEBEK : What an odd research topic. I never knew this was one of your interests! Still, I applaud you for your dedication and for your interest in studying fae; I shall aid you in your study! And if you have anything more to ask, feel free to call me any time!

He is... more than confused when he goes over the questions. It's always important to read all the questions before answering a test, so he employs the same tactic when he looks at the survey. He's not sure if he regrets it, but his throat certainly hates him for it—choking on nothing but his own spit.

His instincts tell him to message you IMMEDIATELY, face flushed at the idea of you playing a joke, making a fool out of him, but then... he stops himself from doing so.

You're clearly teasing him, yes, but all the same he's curious about your motives, about how you would react to his answers, about the answers you want to get out of him... or anyone else. Did you send the form to anyone else? What if you were getting answers from other people?

Oddly enough, what motivates him to answer instead of interrogating you about the form is the idea of someone else sending in the form before him. He can't have that! He had to show that he was your most reliable friend, the one you could count on if you really needed help.

Most of his answers are predictably... Sebek, loud even in text, honest in his confusion and feelings. Well, in the ones you allow him to type anyway. Probably your fault with your choice of questions. Still, it's enough to reassure you of his feelings, that you weren't just delusional and seeing things.

HOW HE ANSWERS THE QUESTIONS

Q: When you see a picture of me, what emotions are you likely to feel? A: The following is ticked: - Happy, Glad, Pleased - Shy, Nervous, Hesitant - Ecstatic, Excited, Motivated - Delighted, Charmed, Exhilarated - other: You don’t have a study at ALL, do you? How brave to fool me like this!

Q: What traits do you associate with me? A: The following is ticked: - charming - bewitching - endearing - lovable - good-looking - fascinating - other: If you’re going to list everything, why even give the option for other?

Q: With this vague scale, how would you rate your feelings for me? A: [Sebek selects the choice with the highest rank]

Q: How compatible do you think you are with me on a scale of… on a scale? A: [Sebek selects the choice with the highest rank]

Q: If I asked you on a date, how likely are you to say yes A: [Sebek selects the choice with the highest rank]

Q: How sure are you of the extent of your feelings for me A: [Sebek selects the choice with the highest rank]

[ SECTION BREAK / NOT A QUESTION ] Not a question but based on my pre-existing research, it seems our feelings are quite similar! Just sharing!

Q: Hi, I will finally allow you to rant away now :) Thanks for answering this! A: This was not only the most ridiculous test/survey I have taken in my LIFE, but also the most DIFFICULT. The way I’m not allowed to explain myself, well, expect that I will most CERTAINLY be explaining myself at a later date. It has to be on a later date because WHY DID YOU PUT A CHRACTER LIMIT ON THI

AFTER HE ANSWERS THE FORM

Are all humans so... odd and creative when it comes to expressing their feelings? Was this an expression of your feelings? Was this you wanting to court him, or perhaps asking him to court you?!

Sebek's thoughts are all over the place, but they bring out the feelings he thought had died down after graduation. Whatever charm you had placed on him had never worn off, remaining even when you weren't in his presence.

Before typing out his (very lengthy) paragraph of a text message, a paragraph more suited for an email, really, Sebek thinks of two things.

First, that Briar Valley needs better cell reception—a bunch of your text messages just came in, asking if he was answering the form, or if he was busy and got called on to do something, or if he was plain ignoring you.

(Well, by your texts, he at least knows he's the only one you've sent the form to. That gives him far too much pride than it should)

Second, that he wasn't in Briar Valley right now (the younger him never would have thought of thinking such a thing), or that you were in Briar Valley right now, so he could go up to see you and express his feelings most appropriately.

He supposes a text will do for now. A nicely worded text, if he can't send a letter (he could, but it would take too long). He can just... do something more romantic later.

SEBEK : DEAREST HUMAN! Even with our time apart, you are still as confounding and befuddling and CONFUSING as ever, you and your unusual ways of showing what I presume to be your affections for me, or at the very least signaling your interest, gathering information to analyze my own interest levels! Admittedly your attempt was, for the lack of a better way to phrase it, lacking good prose, unpoetic, and extremely weird, but nevertheless your feelings have reached me. Somehow, you have managed to render me speechless (for a few minutes), and you, in spite of your general lack of romanticism, continue to set my heart ablaze. With that said, even though I find your methods cowardly, I accept your advances, but I ask we hold off from pursuing anything until I can tell you in person. That is to say, I want for us to meet again.

[ BONUS ! ]

character: ORTHO SHROUD (& IDIA SHROUD) premise/trope: sending a form to your crush's younger brother, Ortho, mostly because you don't want to commit to confessing to Idia yet

HOW HE REACTS WHEN YOU SEND THE FORM LINK

He already knew you had feelings for his brother, but there's a different type of happiness in knowing you're willing to admit it (at least to him, if not yet Idia)

It's one thing to like his brother, and it's another thing to be able to say it. From his observations (of you, of others, and the games his brother played) and research (on online forums... and also the games his brother played), there was that probability that you would be ashamed of yourself for liking Idia, his wonderful but flawed brother. He's glad you don't seem to think that way.

That aside, he thinks you sending him the form is fun! He's more than willing to answer anything you want to know (whether it's just about him or if it's something to help you get closer to his brother)

Plus, he got called your BFF! :D

ORTHO : Your secret is safe with me! Don't worry q(≧▽≦q) My metaphorical lips are sealed!

When it comes to answering, he's straight to the point but cute, even when he says things that could come off as burns towards you or his brother. Most of all, it's very clear that he not only adores his brother, but that he cares for you, too.

HOW HE ANSWERS THE QUESTIONS

Q: hi ortho! first of all, i missed youuu 💙 A: I missed you too! I haven’t seen you since graduation ＞︿＜

Q: so since i’m sure you know i like idia, when/how did you realize? A: I was walking with you to class one day when your heart rate increased! I was really scared that something had happened to you ::>_<:: I ran a few tests out of concern, even though you were confused about why I wanted to do that. Everything was normal when I checked it, but when I suggested my brother help investigate the anomaly your heart rate rose again!

Q: just making sure, do you think idia has a clue that i like him A: Oh, absolutely! He… just kidding! Not at all! I never told him, even though I wanted to sometimes, but even if I did I don’t think he would belive me! My brother is not dense, he gets flustered by you a lot, but I think he’s too in denial that it’s possible you like him!

Q: do you think idia likes me too A: That’s a secret! Please confess to my brother first, or wait for him to confess!

Q: its okay with u if i dated him, right? A: I approve! I like you very much o(^.^)o Me and Idia always have fun with you!

Q: serious question do you think idia would open to dating right now? A: Hmmm I think it’s better that you talk to him about it! I know the both of you can come to an agreement that you’ll both be happy with ( ˇ v ˇ )

Q: aside from the fact that you love your brother and that you like me, why do you think we’re good for one another? A: I have prepared multiple answers for this question! [ 1 ] Because you like him! [ 2 ] Because you like me, too! ヾ(•ω•`)o [ 3 ] Because you understand and accept Idia without forcing him to change. [ 4 ] Because you know when Idia wants space and when he wants to hang out with you. [ 5 ] Because you smile brightly around him and he smiles brightly around you. Idia is happier seeing you than seeing Gakemo live, or getting an SSR!

Q: do u have any tips for meee A: Just be yourself! ヾ(≧ ▽ ≦)ゝ

Q: if i get rejected by idia, are you still down to be my little brother? hihi A: I don’t want to tell you the probabilities of anything, but you should have more faith in yourself! And of course! o((>ω< ))o

AFTER HE ANSWERS THE FORM

The chances are, either he gives you enough assurance to confess to Idia in the coming days/weeks, or he convinces you to wait it out when the time is right—dating sims usually had confession scenes at very specific and special locations, right? Maybe you had to wait for a sign.

Either way, it's hard not to believe you have a chance when Ortho tells you—not because of his godly skills (seriously, what kind of genius is Idia?) in analyzing data and making predictions based on probabilities, but because Ortho's the one who knows him best, who's always going to be there when he needs it.

How can you not trust him when he implies (implies, only so he won't take the chance from his brother to confess to you properly) that his brother might just have a crush on you, too?

After a while, the conversation divulges from Idia to simply catching up with Ortho, asking him how he's been doing, setting up a day where the both of you could play a few online games together (with and without Idia), but his sweet messages remain in your head all day.

ORTHO : Even though I want you to date my brother as soon as possible (please I promise the probability of him liking you back is much higher than you think!), I promise I won't interfere, so take your time! ORTHO : Even without dating him, I already see you as my other big sibling anyway \^o^/

masterlist | end notes

[ 1 ] made this in 2 days because i was just really tired from school and wanted a break, but wanted something a little less taxing brain power wise than a one-shot. i've had this idea in my head for a few months now so i thought i would finally write it out!

[ 2 ] figuring out how someone would type is a struggle, so i had to make guesses based on how they write the valentine letters + voice lines, then take some liberties based on their relationship dynamic with the reader + the tone of the premise

[ 3 ] epel: "because I want to raise apple trees and make jam with you in the future", referencing one his suitor suit (the groom outfit, i forgot what it's called in EN) voice lines

[ 4 ] speaking of epel, i asked for ideas basically on what dynamics people liked with him. unfortunately i couldn't employ EVERY idea, i mostly went with @ / syl-lithy 's with a dash of everyone elses. ig ill just have to use the other dynamics in some other work for epel 😌

#twst x reader #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #jack howl x reader #epel felmier x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #idia shroud x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #nathya twst writing #twst hcs #twst #twisted wonderland #twst imagines #ace trappola #deuce spade #jack howl #epel felmier #sebek zigvolt #ortho shroud

[imbestforyou]

you belong with me

pairing: jj maybank x bestfriend!reader

summary: reader is in love with jj, but jj’s dating another girl…

warnings: unmutual pining, minor profanity, poorly edited, cliffhanger (sorry i got lazy), short pt. 2 if people want it idk, little angst and fluff

approx. reading time: 8 minutes and 30 seconds

writing inspo: you belong with me (taylor’s version) by taylor swift

masterlist :)

“wait what?” i exclaimed. i was sitting in sarah’s room listening to her talk about her day at the beach with the pogues.

“yes i swear! he brought emily there and had his arm wrapped around her and everything! didn’t even surf, which is crazy for jj.”

“so he must be serious about this girl, right?” i sighed as i layed on her bed. i couldn’t believe it. jj maybank? in a relationship with a kook girl?

“i mean i don’t know much. but if i’m being honest, he didn’t seem that interested in her.” she talked as she curled her hair for her date with john b. i stayed silent. i couldn’t believe it.

————————————————————————————

“hey y/n!” i stopped in my tracks. i knew that voice all too well. and it was the voice of someone i had been ignoring for the past two weeks. i turned slowly to face him.

“hey.” i said looking at the floor. purposely avoiding eye contact. it wasn’t that i didn’t want to see jj, i did. but it hurt to know he was dating someone else. especially emily, someone who was drastically different from me, from all the pogues to be honest.

“i feel like i haven’t seen you in forever. what’s up with that? sarah told me you’ve been sick, but i told her that was bullshit. you haven’t gotten sick since like the 3rd grade.” he grabbed me by the shoulders playfully. i look up to see emily staring at me from the bar.

“uh yeah. i don’t know what happened. probably got it from my parents after they came back from new york.” it was a lie. my parents hadn’t been to new york in ages.

with emily giving me a death stare and jj touching me, i was feeling claustrophobic and a little freaked out, “anyways look i’ll see you later. i have to get home and get some homework done.” i turn around and start walking before he can begin a sentence.

————————————————————————————

you're on the phone with your girlfriend, she's upset

she's going off about something that you said

‘cause she doesn't get your humor like I do

my eyes were closed while i sunbathed on the beach before i was interrupted by another call on my phone.

jj <3 - 3 missed calls

jj <3 - calling now

“hello?”

“y/n? y/n! hey how- how are you doing?” he stutters a bit.

“hey i’m doing fine? are you okay? you sound a little weird.”

“i’m good just pissed at emily.” he huffed.

“ahh emily. so how is your new girlfriend?”

“she’s pissed at me for some lame joke i made with pope. and she called attacking me and shit because i was being a douchebag or something.”

“ha what else is new.” i joke. and he laughs which stops my heart for a minute. i pause then ask,

“what was the joke?” i ask, curious to know why emily would be so upset.

“i told her the dress she was wearing looked like a hospital gown and she got all pissed. wasn’t even a good joke…” he mumbled.

i laughed, he was right. it wasn’t, i could think of thousands of jokes better, but i could tell it must’ve been an attempt to make emily and pope laugh.

“i guess she doesn’t get your humor.”

“guess not…” he sighs then starts again,

“hey l was wondering if you wanted to hang out later. i don’t know i’ve been feeling really distant from you recently.

“yeah i’m sorry about that, um so like with the pogues or…?”

“nah just yo- sorry hold that thought emily’s calling me and i really don’t want to make her more mad. i’ll call you back.”

he never called back.

————————————————————————————

im in the room, it's a typical tuesday night

im listening to the kind of music she doesn't like

and she'll never know your story like I do

a week had passed and he still hadn’t called me. i wasn’t even trying to ignore him anymore, he just was never around. school had ended and summer break had finally begun. and still no call.

as i layed on my bed and sang along to “the blue” by gracie abrams, sarah tries convincing me to talk to jj.

“why don’t you just call him? see what’s up? it’s not like him to be this distant. it’s with john b too, hasn’t been to the chateau recently. and you know how his dad is.”

“a shitty father is what he is.” i spit out. even though i was irritated at jj for not even trying to keep any communication between any of the pogues my hatred for luke will always be worse.

i sit up, “look he’s probably fine and with emily. i’ll talk to john b to get him to chill. but honestly i don’t think jj wants to keep contact with any of us. if he wanted to he would have.”

“i don’t know, you should call him. emily has like tied him up all for herself. have you noticed that?”

but she wears short skirts, I wear t-shirts

shes cheer captain and im on the bleachers

dreaming 'bout the day when you wake up and find

that what you're looking for has been here the whole time

“i mean i think everyone has. or that fact that she’s nothing like any of us and exactly like the type of girl he would make fun of.”

“a kook princess, like what i was.”

“exactly. i don’t want to judge him but why would he go into a relationship with someone who he so obviously doesn’t like?”

“something is up y/n. go figure it out.” she grabbed my car keys and pushed me out the door.

————————————————————————————

standing by and waiting at your back door

all this time, how could you not know, baby?

you belong with me, you belong with me

i take a deep breathe before knocking at his door.

no response. i knock again.

“hello! anyone home?”

“shut the hell u- y/n?” jj opens the door.

“hi- hey i just came to check on you. can i come in?”

he turns back, no doubt looking for his father. “probably not the best idea.”

“yeah- yeah uh wanna go to mine? so we can talk?” he nods and shuts the door behind him. he doesn’t make eye contact but all i can do is stare at the blood on his face and knuckles.

oh, I remember you driving to my house

in the middle of the night

im the one who makes you laugh

when you know you're 'bout to cry

and I know your favorite songs

and you tell me 'bout your dreams

think I know where you belong

think I know it's with me

i unlock my house from the back door to hopefully not make as much noise. my parents couldn’t find out i was sneaking in a boy in the middle of the night. i hurriedly close the door to my room and turn to him.

“are you okay?” i spill out.

“yes.” he’s quiet, that’s not the jj i know.

“you know you can talk to us, right? like any of the pogues, we’re here for you. i’m here for you.” i move closer and touch the blood on his forehead, and he winces. his head is sticky, like if he had been sweating. and i can’t decide whether it’s because of the humidity or if he was fighting with his father. probably both.

“luke?” he just nods. my heart breaks for him. i grab his hand and let him sit on my bed. i grab my first aid kit and rubbing alcohol and get to work on the blood and bruises on his hand and knuckles.

we sit in comfortable silence. but it was mostly me waiting to see if he was going to talk about his dad.

“i didn’t want to ignore you guys.” he speaks so low, i almost couldnt hear him. i kneel down so i can look at his face.

“then why did you?”

“i- i told my dad something, stupid i know. but he blew up on me a couple weeks ago. told me his boss had a nice daughter named emily my age. said if i could get with her, he’d get more money or some shit. i don’t know i guess i wanted to make him proud. so i- i started dating her. kept fucking it up and he would beat the shit out of me. didn’t want you guys to see me like that.”

i sighed. my hands were holding his for comfort. something we’d done since we were kids but felt really unfamiliar now.

“what’d you tell your dad to make him set you up with emily?”

he coughed, “told’m that i loved someone.”

my heart dropped for the second time in two months. why did i even think for a second that’d i’d have a chance? i told myself we belonged together.

“oh.” i got up and released my hands from his. suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. i cleared my throat.

“um well, i have some sleeping bags in my closet and if you want you can sleep in my bed or um whatever feels more com-“

“i told him i loved you.”

#jj maybank #obx #obx fanfiction #obx cast #obx fic #jj mayback imagine #jj mayback x reader #you belong with me #fearless #fearless taylor’s version #taylor swift #jjmaybank #outer banks #obx fan fiction #jj maybank x you #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank angst #angst #outer banks jj #jj outer banks #obx imagine #obx netflix #obx jj #obx3 #obx season 3

[romanoffsbish]

Power(less) Moves

CEO!NatashaReader x Assistant!Wanda

A/N: I love mcu Vision, please don’t read into the slanderous noncannon talking points | 4,840 Words

Warnings: Pushy Men | Angst -> Fluff

Smut: Daddy (R) | Mommy (N) | Restraints (W) | Thigh-Riding (N) | Paddle - Spanking | Oral (All) | Strap (W) | Bullet Vibe | Degradation | Overstimulation | 18+ | Minors DNI

A luncheon barbecue was the last place Wanda wanted to spend her Saturday afternoon, but being the assistant to the CEO's meant she hadn't much of a choice. Especially when said CEO's are also her lovers in the night time.

She'd been hoping to get lucky this morning after her dream left her a sticky mess, but when you brushed her off your thigh, and Natasha rushed out the front door with nary a kiss on her lips she knew she was shit out of luck.

Which is why she planned to be a bit of a brat.

——

Sitting impossibly close to Vision Stark, Tony's dorky younger brother that you hired out of pity as he was struggling to find employment after college. Turns out he wasn't all that keen on keeping it either as his hand grazed over Wanda's back as she laughed at his lame joke.

Natasha's hand was wrapped so tight around her flute of champagne that you had to take it from her. Fearful it would snap and cut her.

Your arms connected as they weaved around her front, you kissed the skin beneath her ear then whispered, "It's okay my love, the little whore is foolishly toying with us." Natasha grumbled, "She's letting him touch her Y/N."

There was insecurity in her tone that enacted a resounding pain in your chest. The prospect of losing Wanda always weighed heavy on both of your hearts, she was a bit younger, and more importantly she was free of commitments.

Natasha and you had an entire company to run, people's lives depending on your ability to sign their checks, she only had your cards.

"She wants to make us pay for leaving her a mess," you whispered with renewed conviction as you noticed her gazing back at you two every once in awhile. Natasha caught on as well as she chuckled darkly, "It'll be her to pay."

Wanda clearly felt eyes on her, she enjoyed it at first, the way her body felt with the surge of adrenaline the glares gave her. Riling you guys up was her favorite pastime, because she'd always wind up waking up with one of you both still deep inside of her, where you'd belonged.

Wanda absolutely adored the possessiveness. Being your guys assistant wasn't exactly easy, but loving the two of you was. It was like breathing, an organic, natural occurrence.

There was no way she'd ever leave you two, and especially not for Vision Stark, he was a drab, and on top of that he was unattractively pushy.

At first flirting with Vision was fun, humoring the man who'd made his office crush obvious, it was harmless; until it wasn't. When his hands firmed against her skin, and he leaned in a hair too close. Wanda was no longer enjoying this, he smelt of cheap aftershave, and peach schnapps, smelling just as pretentious as he'd made himself out to be. A rich kid who was so insufferable he couldn't get hired on his name.

Tony once joked he was adopted, and Wanda's starting to believe he wasn't lying after all. That or he was likely the product of an affair. Yeah... Which would explain the stark difference in their appearances, one blonde with blue eyes and lanky limbs, the other a brunette, with brown eyes, and a all around toned physique.

Fortunately for Wanda you guys saw the exact moment her flirty facade fell into distress. There was not even a blink of your eyes before you were rushing off to aide her. Natasha hot on your heels with an HR exec beside her.

"Hey Wanda, is everything okay?" The woman turned her face to look up, her lip wobbled slightly, Vision leaned back in adjunct horror.

"I-." Wanda found herself unable to speak, you all glared daggers at the trembling trust fund baby, and Sadie, the HR manager, sighed in obvious frustration, "Stark, follow me."

You nudged your wife, silently demanding her check reflect a bonus for this moment. Nat rolled her eyes at your thoughtfulness, but nodded a promise, and in this case agreement.

"Wanda, I need you to calm down," you coo'd, a hand softly tracing the curvature of her face. "Can you do that baby?" Her lower lip trembled softly, she harshly sucked it between her teeth to temper herself before nodding her head.

"Thank you," you kissed the tip of her nose, she visibly relaxed, and your heart beamed with pride and swirled with adoration. "Natty's pulling the car around, I'll be home later."

Wanda's hands clutched your shirt, eyes wide with fear, shadowing her disappointment. "I have to close out the luncheon, and then I have to deal with some urgent HR paperwork."

"No," Wanda shook her head, a tear flying as she did. "I'm sorry, I-I, it's okay. Let him go."

"Don't be crazy Wanda," you lowly growled. "He made you uncomfortable, it was clear and he dismissed it, that's unacceptable; for you, to me, and also as a reflection on the company."

"I can stay," she pleaded. "I'll pull it together."

"No." You shook your head, and gave her a hug to soothe her. You quietly whispered, "You've had a rough time baby, you'll go home and take care of yourself. Do as mommy says. Got it?" Wanda nodded, and you gave out soft praises.

Then you heard a car door slam, and a rush of footsteps telling you your time ran out. You slyly kissed her lips, then warned, "When daddy gets home we'll handle punishment."

Natasha kissed your cheek, then smirked at you as she pulled Wanda towards the car. You winked at the terrified brunette, then blew a kiss to your wife before returning to find your employees eyes all on your business. The lot of them straightened out and shifted back to their former conversations, you shook your head with amusement before returning to business.

That mongrel had to be dealt with instantly. 

—

It had been about three torturous hours before you could even consider heading home. Vision tried to fight you, threatening legal recourse as he stated you were merely jealous. Apparently he had known of your situation, and was set on using it against all of you. He'd threatened to use his status, but his attempts were futile as Tony cackled through the receiver of his phone.

What you, Natasha, and Wanda shared was a matter you'd legally squashed ages ago with HR. Sure, you still kept your relationship under wraps at work, but that was simply to ensure staff didn't cry favoritism due to the nature of your positions. Wanda was never given special treatment at work, ever, you and Nat simply couldn't afford to feed into her ego like that.

She was already insufferable at home as it was.

After a long battle that left you exhausted, and poor Sadie on the verge of a breakdown, the younger Stark decidedly heeded his brother's warnings about being cut off if he so much as called the family lawyer against two of his best friends, and his namesake company's allies.

He left quietly, a major deviation from how he'd entered, but you left in an angered rush.

When you eventually walked through the doors of your massive penthouse you were met by your wife, who was sitting on your at home bar wearing nothing more than a red camisole intricately laced in black, her full breasts on display as she hopped off the counter and sauntered over to you, smirking devilishly as she saw exactly where your eyes had landed.

"Welcome home love." She pecked your lips, then allowed you to wordlessly respond, your hands fell to her hips where you squeezed them before pulling her back in for a deeper kiss. It had been a long day, one that was meant to be stress free, but had divulged into chaos.

Natasha could sense the urgency in you, with the way your hands bunched the silk up, fully exposing her bare lower half to you enough of an indication that it had been a tough event.

"Love, slow down," she panted against your lips as you'd slipped your leg between hers and began to rub her cunt against your slacks. You growled, then sunk your teeth into the swell of her breast to clearly reiterate your frustrations.

"I tied the brat up," she whispered between her raspy moans, instantly peeking your interest. "How long has she been made to be alone with her thoughts?" You inquired as you continued to help your wife ride your thigh, enjoying the way her face scrunched up in pleasure as she fought to remain cognizant enough to reply.

"After I made sure she showered his stench off of her, and ate a proper meal, I tied her up."

"Good, because if I had to suffer for her foolish behavior, then so should she." Natasha whined as you abruptly stilled her hips, "Why must I?"

"Oh hush," you chided, "I let you come home while I dealt with the pest, the least you could do is be patient so I can fuck you properly."

Natasha hummed thoughtfully, "Fair enough."

With a soft roll of your eyes you responded to her, then after a moment of silence you lifted the woman up, who squealed at the surprise, and brought her to the master bedroom. You tossed her onto the mattress, then hovered over her, completely ignoring the woman laid beside you with red cheeks and flowing tears.

Wanda immediately pulled at her restraints when she got no response to her pleading. "Mommy please, I thought about what I did," she cried, "I just needed you guys so badly."

"Shut up whore," you growled, but you didn't look at her and that absolutely broke her.

"Had you just been patient, like I'd asked you to be this morning, then we'd have made sure to fuck you dumb later." This time you turned, glare icy as you met her teary eyes. "Color?"

"Green..."

"It's such a shame too," you sighed, your hand cupped her cheek tenderly, subtle reassurance of your guys love before you gripped her chin. "We would've had you thoroughly fucked all weekend long, Monday too since it's a holiday."

"Wait," she went to seek clarity, but you'd already shoved her panties into her mouth.

"Whores don't get to make demands," you tutted before turning back to look at Natasha who was thoroughly amused by your actions. "Now, if you want relief you'll be quiet, and watch me make mommy scream. If you so much as blink we won't touch you for a week."

Natasha snorted, "Aww baby, play fair." The request was absolutely ridiculous, you knew that, but in the moment you didn't care much.

"Fair would've been her remaining loyal," you sneered, "She instead chose to parade around the luncheon like she was on the damn menu."

Natasha frowned deeply at the reminder, her eyes full of insecurities met eyes full of regret.

Wanda instantly broke the rule as she blinked once the reality had hit her, she'd never meant to actually hurt either one of you. Losing you wasn't an option she thought of fondly, or ever. It left a dull ache in her chest thinking that she might be facing losing either one of you. And she couldn't even apologize like she wanted to with the makeshift gag, it was shoved in deep.

"Three blinks," you suddenly conceded through a harsh breath through your nose, knowing damn well that was manageable as Natasha wasn't that far away from her own release.

Wanda nodded obediently, not a single rebuttal left on her lips, and she knew your tight smile was the closest to affection you'd show her.

Natasha moaned as soon as your tongue met her dripping cunt, she was already close while riding your thigh, and she knew as you were relentlessly lapping at her that she wouldn't last long. Which left some hope for Wanda.

The brunette made it an entire minute before she blinked. One down, and two to go, she was pleading with you to work your usual magic. Natasha hardly ever took more than two minutes to orgasm when your skilled mouth was what was at use. Your dexterous tongue was more than enough for the both of them.

Then you incorporate the fingers and it's over, which is how you approached the now. You pulled a strangled moan from the redhead that reverberated off the walls. Wanda gulped and blinked again as her arousal increased tenfold.

"Careful Wands," Natasha panted affectedly, "You've only got one more pass now baby."

Wanda's eyes burned, but she managed to keep them open just long enough for you to suck Nat's clit into your mouth and make her sing your praises. The brunette blinked fast so she could alleviate the sting and watched closely as Nat sloppily rutted into your face to make the orgasm last. Wanda was jealous, but content.

Watching you make your wife fall apart was always something she found attractive. It is how the first night together went. You gave her pointers, then let her take over the act so you could rail her senseless with your strap. A shiver ran down her spine at the memory, and a shock to her heart followed as she continued to regret her every bratty decision on this day.

Natasha smirked dreamily at you as you now hovered over her, all while her slender fingers walked down Wanda's body, she could feel the way the girl tensed, she was perfectly wound up. "She did it lyubov', shall we reward her?"

You hummed in contemplation as you pressed your lips to hers, relishing in the way that your wife moaned, and wrapped her legs around you to draw your body even closer. Wanda watched with rapt attention, her muffled whimpers and squirming body enough to draw you back. You looked at her with that infuriatingly attractive, smug grin that only ever made her wetter.

"I suppose the brat has earned her reprieve," you reasoned with a shrug before clambering off the bed, and just as you disappeared into the closet to retrieve your strap Natasha took your agreement in stride. With fast hands she untied the brunette, and removed the panties. Wanda choked on the taste of her own arousal as she acclimated to the freedom, then after a bit of spluttering she looked up into predatory green orbs and inhaled sharply before pouting.

The redhead wore a smirk, "You look so pretty like this sweetheart," her thumb stroked over the younger woman's cheek, wiping away a stray tear. Then she leaned down to kiss her trembling lips, her tongue slipping into her mouth as she passed time. Once she heard the familiar sound of you fastening the harness she pulled back with a wide smirk. Wanda gulped, and as expected, with the tight grip Nat had on her hips she flipped her onto her stomach.

"Don't you think so detka?" Natasha called out to you as she heard you approach her, you didn't answer right away. Instead you handed over a leather paddle then walked to the side of the bed and crouched down to see Wanda's muddled gaze. "So pretty," you mused as your callous thumb ran down the bridge of her nose until it landed on her plump, pursed lips. Her entire body visibly shuddered, and her eyes that reeked of submission only doubled down.

"Broken into submission, and at our mercy." Natasha beamed at the familiar concept, and you smiled just the same as you leaned in to peck her lips. "It's about time we ruin her."

The redhead took that as her queue and slammed the paddle down onto her left cheek. You took full advantage of her anticipated reaction, Wanda's agape mouth as she went to scream out in a mix of pain and pleasure was full before the sound could fully leave her throat as you jutted your hips forward. It was replaced by a gargle of whimpers and gags.

"Get daddy's cock ready for you baby," Natasha commanded as she roughly groped the stinging skin of her behind. "And take each hit like a good girl, don't try to escape me now love..."

Natasha was relentless in her pursuit to bruise the rear end of your lover. Wanda took it in stride as her repentance was just beginning. Neither of you would truly hurt the woman, marks aside, you knew she took great pleasure from this arrangement as she drenched your sheets every single time you had to punish her.

Her tears still soaked through the pillowcase as you continued to assault her throat just the same, you were clearly close to your release as the harness brutally assaulted your clit. Your grunts turned both of your lovers on, Nat had even brought her paddle to a stop after a harsh swat against the reddened, welting cheeks. It was mesmerizing to see you so close, your face scrunched up as sweat sheened your skin.

The heady stench of arousal nearly brought the redhead to her knees, so she did it herself as she kept her eyes locked on yours. With a much gentler hand she maneuvered the pliant body on the bed until her ass was raised and legs were spread enough to grant her access to her drenched cunt. She winked at you before diving right in, making Wanda moan around your strap and driving you wild with the reverb.

"Natasha," you warned through gritted teeth, she understood you perfectly, but she still teased you by pushing Wanda to the absolute brink. Her eyes swimming with mischief never wavered from your own, and just as you had came, arousal painting your thighs, she pulled away to prevent Wanda from the same fate.

Wanda cried hoarsely as you ripped your strap from her throat, spit trailed from her swollen lips to your strap until you moved far enough back for it to snap. The poor girl was in total disarray over the refusal, but as she was swiftly flipped onto her back she was made to cry even harder. The feel of your usually soft sheets was nearly coarse as it rubbed against her sore ass.

"If only you would've behaved today," you pondered aloud, "We would've let you cum without teasing, and with the promise of it never ending until you'd beg us to stop."

"I'm sorry," she cried, her eyes were clamped shut as she tried to stop her tears, "Please..."

"That's a good girl," you chuckled darkly as you stared down at her from the end of the bed. "Beg for it, remind mommy and daddy that only we can make you this desperate."

Wanda went to plead her case, but you cut her off by pushing your strap beyond her fluttering entrance. The overdue stretching of her slicked up walls had her eyes rolling to the back of her head, her back arching alongside them until Natasha firmed her back against the mattress.

While you picked up an instantly brutal pace Natasha moved about her upper body, making her head spin as she lavished her breasts with soft kisses that turned incessant, then from there it became rough. Her teeth making surprise contact with the skin over her pulse was enough to help reduce her into a mess.

"Please," she whimpered, the first coherent word to fall from her lips in minutes as you purposefully neglected her clit to keep her on that blissful edge. Natasha's mouth wrapped around her pert nipples aided her in her journey, but Wanda couldn't reach her peak without the more direct stimulation. "Hmm?"

"Beg harder baby, don't be so damn pitiful," Natasha taunted in a garbled manner as she continued to suck and nip at her chest. Her mark more than made on the once clear skin that she'd taken to using as a canvas. "Do it!"

Wanda shrieked as the redhead twisted her nipple for emphasis at the same time your tip pressed against her innermost sensitive spot. The brunette blacked out for all of two seconds as the building pleasure reached unbearable. The closeness was obvious to all of you, as with every thrust in you met increased resistance, and Natasha was up close to her heaving chest.

"Please, I-I, mommy I need to let go so bad!" Wanda finally cried, "Daddy, please let me."

Your wife peered up at you, her plump lip caught between her teeth as she admired the way you looked glistening under the soft light of your bedroom, layered in sweat. It was hot. Rather enticing, the way that you focused your eyes on her every previously sinful move while still keeping up the brutal pace of your thrusts. Clearly you were on the brink again, but you kept it under control as you finally gave into the temptation to see Wanda coming undone.

"Cum for us baby," you purred, voice raspy from the insatiable need. Wanda's heart soared and with a firm press of your thumb to her clit as your wife sucked a deep mark onto the skin of the valley of her breasts she was writhing.

"There's our good girl," you teased, and Nat snorted, "We just had to fuck her dumb."

"Oh, and we're far from done," you muttered, smirking at your wife as you felt the way her thighs tensed as you lifted her legs up, causing the strap to reach further. Wanda screamed as the tip of your strap pressed firmly against her g-spot. Natasha watched in momentary awe as the strap you rutted into her, against her walls that squeezed it still, bulged her stomach out.

"I-I can't," Wanda whined, but Natasha shushed her with a peck to her lips, "You can baby, this is what you wanted, so take it." Then she rerouted her attention back to the bulge, her hand splayed flat against her abdomen as she felt the mesmerizing rise and fall of it. "Daddy's fucking you so well baby, thank her."

"Thank you daddy," she instantly complied, "Need to cum again, please." You hummed, "Use your manners and thank mommy too."

Wanda smiled up at Natasha, her expression thanks enough, and so the redhead nodded while reaching down to stimulate her clit as her other hand pressed firmly against her stomach. The brunette's entire body shook violently as she was thrown into another blinding orgasm.

Then all at once it stopped as you slipped out, her slick oozing out of her hole that continued to contract around nothing. Her body slumped and your wife met your lips for a tender kiss.

Wanda was too fucked out to notice Natasha had inserted a bullet into her, her walls too numbed from the previous filling to register it either. It wasn't until she shifted slightly, her eyes widening, that she felt the foreign piece. The way you two smiled at her was enough, she didn't need words to know the punishment was prolonged, and that terrified and excited her.

"Why don't you help daddy out, hm?" Natasha now hovered over the brunette, smile alluring as always as she stroked her face. Wanda knew exactly what that meant, so she shimmied off the bed and dropped to her knees, hands working fast to remove the harness from you, trying her best to be fast to keep you content.

Just as soon as the harness left your body were you gripping her by her hair and pressing her into you. Your cunt ached, as did your body with tension from your long day. Nobody, not even Natasha who was skilled beyond belief could bring you over the edge like Wanda did.

Every single session between you three ended like this, with her in varying positions that always centered with her between your thighs. Using her dexterous tongue and nimble, long fingers to bring you to nirvana in seconds. It filled the woman with pride every time. This time, even with her being in the dog house, was no different. If anything it was more special.

The fact that you are even letting her do this was a privilege she didn't take for granted. Your essence smeared her face, and she wore it with the utmost pride, if you'd let her she would wear it in public. Part of her wished that to be part of the punishment, maybe you'd let her eat you out on Tuesday in the office, and make her wear it in a possessive retaliation.

Natasha watched Wanda's thighs rub together and she smirked from her place behind you, her hands lazily played with your breasts as her lips tenderly kissed over your salty skin. "I think the brat is enjoying her treat, should we give her the other one?" You chuckled breathily, "I don't know, I think us spoiling her like that is what got us into this mess Natalia."

Wanda flinched, the reminder of today still weighed heavy on her every time you brought it up. She wished for it to be a thing of the past, but she knew better than to dream like that. It was her fault, she hurt you both, and somehow you still let her have your sweetest nectar so she wouldn't complain about your denials.

Honestly, she didn't even need the vibe, your moans that just picked up, along with the tightening of your hand in her hair was enough to tell her just how well she was doing, and to send her crashing over the edge alongside you.

"Fuck, she's dripping onto the carpet," Natasha rasped against your shoulder as she peered down to see Wanda with her hands now on the ground as she keeled over and desperately gasped for air. You'd not only smothered her, but your reaction to her alone sent her into an orgasm that was blinding and breathtaking.

Literally, she was basically hyperventilating.

Though you were also coming down from an intense release, you dropped to your knees and pulled the overstimulated girl into your lap. Kissing over the bruises your lover had already left behind, but you refrained from leaving your own. Your slick on her contorted face was more than enough for you to have left a mark.

"Shh, it's okay sweetness," you tried to calm her as you carried her into the bathroom, Nat leading you there so she could run a bath, but it was clear as day that she was deep in turmoil.

"I'm sorry," Wanda cried, hands clutching your shoulders as her head lay against your chest. "Please don't leave me, I need you, please!!"

Natasha rose from the lip of the tub in an instant, taking the girls heated face between her hands so she could soothingly stroke her thumbs over her cheeks, and kiss her forehead.

"Hey, hey, nobody's leaving anybody baby," the redhead shut down her fears, and looked to you so you could continue to reassure the woman.

While Natasha returned to situate the tub, you shifted Wanda so that her arms were around your neck, with her legs around your waist. It brought you face to face, with the proximity you could see just how petrified she really was.

"Wanda, we adore you," you whispered softly, keeping the moment intimate enough. "We'd never leave you, but sometimes." You paused, taking a second to build up the courage to voice your shared fears. "We wonder if you would be happier elsewhere, and it's terrifying to think you'll wake up one day and no longer want us."

"I'm never leaving!" Her grip on you tightened. "You two are my forever, I've never been so happy before. I'm sorry for being an ungrateful brat." She buried her face into your neck, fresh hot tears were now streaming down your skin.

Natasha wrapped her arms around the both of you, pulling your bodies into hers so she could offer comfort as well. "We love you Wanda."

"So much baby," you added. "Never doubt that, just because we can't always fulfill your sinful needs it doesn't make the words any less true."

"Also," Natasha began with a smirk sent over Wanda's shoulder for you to see her devilish intent. "Never stop being our brat." Her lips then latched onto the brunette's neck from behind, drawing out a whimper from her lips.

"Yeah, punishing you is half the fun." You playfully slapped her ass, and she cried harder against you due to the renewed stinging flesh.

"Come now, let's get you cleaned up." Natasha gently maneuvered her from your hold and into the tub. She looked up longingly, and the both of you gave into her pitiful, silent request as you slipped into the tub. Natasha had turned on the jets, so it was the perfect zen moment.

Then once Wanda was calmed she asked you a simple, albeit dangerous question. "What's the other half?" You smirked, hand hovering the remote of her bullet vibe. "That it never ends."

——

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x natasha x reader #wanda x natasha #wanda x nat x reader #wanda x nat x you #wandanat fic #wandanat au #wandanat fanfiction #wandanat imagine #wandanat x female reader #wandanat fluff #wandanat smut #wandanat x y/n #wandanat x you #wandanat x reader #gxg #wandanat angst

[hannie-dul-set]

sorry but golden retriever sungchan x black cat reader is the only canon option! if you write a blurb on this pls i will actually kiss you in the mouth (ily btw)

[man on a mission]. jung sungchan has taken it upon himself to make you laugh at least once a day.

“you’re so fucking lame,” you tell him with a roll of your eyes, sitting in front of him at the cafeteria while he has two chopsticks sticking out of his nose. “gross,” you say, but the slight quirk of your lips and the way you quickly reach for your iced lemonade to cover it up makes him pump his fist in the air in victory— even at the expense of his image.

“ha! you laughed! i win.”

his other friends ask him why he even bothers. or, in the words of anton, “hyung, why are you so hell bent on making a fool out of yourself at least once a day?” but his motivations go beyond the selfish desire of proving that his sense of humor can even penetrate the moody and scary (i.e. you). sungchan has made is a mission to make you laugh every single day because of one single reason.

sungchan is simply sick and tired of people talking shit about you.

“it’s ridiculous!” he huffs, slamming both fists on the table after anton asked him the question. “they don’t even know them that well!” yet those same people call you bossy, call you a stick in the mud, temperamental and so on and so forth— which, sungchan has to admit isn’t all wrong. you’re always scowling or glaring or telling people off, but your love language is violence and words needled with spikes. sungchan is the only with enough fluency to see the tenderness in your light punches and your eloquent “fuck you’s” straight to his face.

no, he doesn’t want you to change. he doesn’t want you to soften up your edges just because of the thoughtless impressions of a couple dozen unimportant people. 

but it won’t hurt to see you laughing ever so often, right?

“oh my god, stop it,” you wheeze, hands pressed tightly to your face after sungchan shows you a dumb tiktok video he just saw, then imitating it with just as much grace and passion, causing you to snort out loud and burst into a fit. “fuck’s sake, i hate you so much.”

once more, mission accomplished. he forced you to tag along with his friends for dinner today, so that was a necessary move to break the ice— especially because anton is kind of afraid of you. seeing you out of your usual resting bitch face should ease their intimidation, and jung sungchan is proud of himself for a job well done seeing shotaro having a passionate discussion about a manga you’ve both read.

“no way, i couldn’t find a copy anywhere! can you lend it to me?”

there’s  a swell of pride in his chest seeing you talk so easily with someone else other than him. it’s nice to see other people finally seeing you in the same light as he had for the past couple of years. pride. yes. that’s exactly and the only thing he’s feeling right now.

“hey.”

but as your conversation with taro lengthens that you haven’t looked at him since laughing at his joke, and as eunseok discreetly calls his attention while staring at you from across the table with a look in his eyes that’s all too familiar— almost as if he’s looking straight at a mirror—sungchan thinks that maybe he should abort his mission.

“your friend has a pretty smile.”

he knows. he’s been trying to get everyone else to see it all this time.

#blurbs #had this thought in the bathroom huahahahahahah #sungchan x reader #jung sungchan x reader #riize x reader #sungchan x you #jung sungchan x you #riize x you #riize scenarios #riize imagines #riize fluff #jung sungchan scenarios #sungchan scenarios

[writershapeholeonthedoor]

Only girl

Pairing: Elizabeth Olsen x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Elizabeth have a quiet night at home

Disclaimer: English is not my first language. Just fluff.

MASTERLIST

It was quiet, not oddly so. Other than the occasional flip of a book page, the calm breathing, and the quiet hum of the fridge in the other room, there was so other sound filling up the house.

It wasn’t uncommon for that silence to creep in and you were usually thankful for it. It brought you peace, it made you relax after a long day. It was a welcome moment, especially when you could stay that way. Lying down on the couch, head resting on your girlfriend’s thighs as her hand ran through your hair in a soothing motion, your nose slightly touching the curve of her hip and one hand clutching her shirt as if she could disappear at any moment. Your girlfriend was reading a book for the last hour or so, quietly turning the pages and sipping her wine every once in a while, and you just knew she was enjoying this moment as much as you were. The TV wasn’t on, there was no music playing, and even the city outside seemed to understand you two didn’t want to be bothered.

It was one of the rare nights where you didn’t have to worry about being somewhere else or going to bed early because one of you had to be up before the sun was up in the sky. It was hard to have those moments where you could enjoy each other's presence and you would like to take full advantage of that. Elizabeth had promised you she would make an effort to slow down on her workload to be home more often, but you wouldn’t hold that against her. You would just enjoy your time with her.

You loved the way her fingers played with your hair, her smell, her soft thighs under your cheek. On the nights that she had to go through her scripts for an upcoming job, she would read a few things out loud to find the right tone and you would listen carefully because you loved the passion she put into her characters. There were nights you spent talking to each other with the same enthusiasm you had when you both met, as if the world was ending and you needed to hear all about her and tell her all about you, and you loved how that didn’t change even after you hit your third anniversary. You also loved to watch her cook, to be given small tasks to help her, to see the crinkle between her brows when she grabbed her phone to look up a recipe to make sure she got it right, to see her eyes sparkling when you eat what she made and say something as lame as "I wish I could kiss the chef, this is so good".

You loved Elizabeth. In a way you didn’t know you could because there was always something amiss in your previous relationships, and then suddenly you met her and it was like going back home. Even when she was across the globe shooting, even when she would spend most of her days inside a plane for press tour, because Elizabeth would always be home when you needed her.

"My love?"

You snapped out of your thoughts, blinking your eyes open and turning your head to the side to look at Elizabeth. The other woman was holding her book with her free hand, a finger marking the page she was on, and her eyes seemed amused and just a bit preoccupied. Her other hand kept running through your hair, though, and you couldn’t help but smile at that.

"Yes?" You asked with a deep content sigh.

"You okay over there?"

You nodded and turned back to your previous position with your face pressed against her. You almost didn’t reply because you weren’t feeling like talking when you were so damn comfortable, but you knew Elizabeth was worried enough to ask you so she would like an answer.

"Yeah," you sighed again. "Why?"

"You're clutching my shirt," she pointed out, although that didn’t make you let go of the soft fabric. "And I’m pretty sure I could hear your brain working."

The last part was said with humor and you chuckled softly at that. "I was just thinking of you."

"Oh." You thought it was funny how Elizabeth sounded surprised by that fact, as if it was such a foreign concept of you to be thinking about her. "What about me?"

"Too many things about you," you replied with a smile partially hidden against her.

"Good things I hope."

"Is there anything bad in you, Elizabeth Olsen?" You joked and, before she could start arguing, you kept talking. "What are you reading?"

You had opened your eyes to watch her again and saw as Elizabeth averted her gaze to the book as if she needed to be reminded what her book was about. "It's just poetry."

"Really?" You enquired with interest. "Care to read one for me?"

"Those aren't about love," she gently admitted with a soft smile at you. "Very tragic, actually."

"Oh no," you teased, finally turning around on her lap so you were lying with your belly up. "I don't need to know more tragic stuff, I see enough on the news."

Elizabeth laughed. "That's fair."

"Do you mind if I keep using you as my pillow?" To make your point, you hooked one arm around her thigh. "You're exceptionally comfortable."

"Do you need a blanket?" She asked as a way to reply to your request.

"No, I'm pretty warm already."

You smiled at her when you pulled your sweatshirt away from your body for a second to show it to her, receiving a gigantic smile that made your heart beat just a tiny bit faster. Well, that was Elizabeth’s sweatshirt, actually, but you had basically stolen it from her since you started spending the night at each other's house. It was her NYU sweatshirt from when she was studying there. It was a bit old, but so damn comfortable that you just had to have it. You used to wash it and slip it inside her closet when you would come over so it would smell like her again, but now that you live together you just make her wear it for a day before you take it back.

Elizabeth never complained. In fact, her eyes look softer when she sees you wearing it. So you would just count as a successful heist of yours.

"I can see that," Elizabeth said with amusement.

"Go back to your book, I'm trying to rest."

She chuckled when you closed your eyes and got more comfortable in her lap, but the silence quickly fell around you again. Her hand kept caressing your head and it didn’t take long for you to start feeling sleepy. You fought against it, changing your position a couple of times, but eventually you knew it was a lost battle.

"Babe?" You grumbled.

"Yes, my love?"

You didn’t reply, though you didn’t even know what you wanted to say to start with, and your lack of words caught Elizabeth’s attention. She looked down and, after realizing you had your eyes closed and your mouth slightly parted, she moved her leg from under your head.

"Babe!" You complained, but Elizabeth chuckled softly.

"Don't sleep on me, honey," she said. "It's still early and you won’t be comfortable on the couch. Besides, our food didn’t get here yet."

"I was pretty comfortable before," you whined and pouted.

"Come on, get up," Elizabeth insisted gently.

You sighed and rolled over so you were facing the rest of the living room. You took a few more seconds before you sat down, instantly snuggling against Elizabeth’s side. She laughed but wasted no time putting her arm around you and kissing your temple.

"Someone is very cuddly today," she teased you, her voice just a whisper when she pulled away.

"I'm trying, but my girlfriend isn't making things easier," you joked. "Speaking of her, do you think she would be willing to share her wine with me?"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes fondly and put her book down to reach out for her glass. She took a sip of it before handing it to you. "The one who finishes the glass has to go fill it," Elizabeth declared, clearly amused, after you drank the rest of the wine.

"You tricked me," you complained although you were already getting up from the couch to go to the kitchen.

Elizabeth stopped you though, grabbing your hand to keep you in front of her, and then she raised her chin and smiled up at you. She was clearly waiting for something and you leaned down to give her a quick peck. After that, she let go of your hand and you walked barefoot to the kitchen. The wine bottle was placed on the fridge, so you opened it and grabbed the wine to fill up the glass. You thought about pouring some in another glass, but you could share it and there was no need to get more things dirty. You moved to put the bottle back on the fridge and saw the bowl with fresh blueberries Elizabeth had bought that morning. Your food was supposed to get there any minute now, but you couldn’t ignore the sudden desire to eat the blueberries, so you took them with you on your way back.

You handed her the glass and sat down beside her again, this time grabbing the remote so you could watch something while you waited. You put a blueberry in your mouth and chewed happily before putting the bowl on Elizabeth’s lap.

"Want some?"

"Dinner is almost here, you know?" She said, albeit she also grabbed a blueberry to eat.

You smiled and shrugged. "Just a snack."

"What are you going to watch?" Elizabeth took another berry.

"Oh, I don’t know about you, but I might watch The Empire Strikes Back."

You got the reaction you were hoping for. Elizabeth groaned and threw her head back on the couch. "That's unfair! You know that’s my favorite movie! I’m trying to read over here."

"Oh, well." You shrugged, feigning innocence even though you knew Elizabeth could see right through you. "You can watch it with your girlfriend or you can go back to that book."

"That might be the easiest decision I ever made," came her reply at the same time Elizabeth put her book away and started to move on the couch to get more comfortable.

You chuckled. "I wanna cuddle, give me room."

"Yes, ma'am."

Elizabeth opened her arms so you could snuggle against her again. You quickly did so, smiling at the feeling of being surrounded by Elizabeth, then put on the movie and reached out for another berry. Elizabeth took a sip of her wine before sighing contently.

"Don't get too comfortable," you said suddenly. "You have to go down to grab our food."

"Why can't you do it? Why does it have to be me?" She sounded amused.

"Because you love me," you replied without missing a beat.

"That I do," Elizabeth agreed. "We will just do rock, paper, scissors."

"You see? That's why I love you," you declared, hit play and hugged Elizabeth tightly.

On nights like that, it was easy to think there was no one else in the world besides you two and you were fine with that.

#elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen x you #celebrity x reader #marvel #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff #fanfic #creative writing #my writing #drabble #fluff

[blasphemecel]

Michael Kaiser — On Your Knees

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 2.9k TYPE: Humor, Teasing, ERM I think y/n and kaiser might like each other 🤓 WARNING: Suggestive sorry (flirting is only verbal but explicit at times)

Kaiser always looks alright with his hair wet. Not, like, stunning or anything, but passable. Then you know it’ll start standing up in weird ways after it dries a little and he’ll ask Ness to help him with it — which, embarrassing, by the way.

But anyway. You wanted to check out the communal bath after you took a shower, figured you’d be alone because it was already bordering on late, and Kaiser followed you because why wouldn’t he. Not like you value your peace and solitude or anything. He can be such a pest sometimes.

You were telling him what Isagi told you — it’s called a sento and apparently it’s different from the more popular onsen — and he said you weren’t ‘worldly’ and that you weren’t ‘impressing him’ and then some more about how ‘everyone knows this.’ Shithead. You should spit in his breakfast tomorrow, if you remember.

Well, you like sitting in the bath, at least, so you’re not too sour right now. Even Kaiser being right next to you can’t ruin it.

“I like this Raichi guy,” you say.

Kaiser shakes his head a little to show you he disapproves. “Don’t tell me you mingle with them. Also, the guy’s always benched. He’s second-rate.”

“No, listen, he was telling me about this sexy soccer motto he has. I really wanna know what it’s about.”

“You’re embarrassing. If you’re in my entourage, you should act like it.”

“Dude, you’re just mad at Isagi ‘cause he was trending on football twitter more than you were that day,” you say.

“I’m not!”

Very persuasive argument coming from him here. It’ll take a lot out of you to take it apart. He’s fuming about it, too. Maybe it’s not so bad Kaiser came along if you can poke fun at him.

“I don’t know why you’re the favorite on the team, anyway,” you say. “They all die over your corny tattoo and not to mention how much you love showing it off. Not cool at all.”

“You wish you were me. Now you’re being jealous because no one likes you, and it’s making you look even uglier than usual,” says Kaiser, seeming to believe himself if the smug look on his face is anything to go by.

“I mean, I had a girlfriend till recently, you know.” Kaiser rolls his eyes, but you ignore him. He’s always doing this, pretending he doesn’t want to hear you. “She had this botched blue dye job and said things like ‘pussy power,’ with the crystals in her room and the tarot cards and all.”

“Yeah? Sounds great. Did you pick her up after a match, loser?”

You click your tongue and wag your finger at him just to be annoying. “No, I don’t fool around with fans. Seems more like your forte.”

He flicks the offending finger away. “I’ve never done that, you slanderous pig.”

“No, but listen, she didn’t care about football at all. She didn’t even know what a scissor kick is. Ooh, she drove me wild.” You sing the last part, looking up at the ceiling fondly as if you’re recalling a warm memory.

Kaiser narrows his eyes at you, frowning. “You’re one strange individual.” And what a pompous way to put it.

“But anyway, wanna know what kinda tattoo I’d get?”

“I seriously don’t care.”

“A skull with two guns. Hard as fuck.”

“You’re so lame. It’s appalling, and also probably why you got dumped.”

He’s taking the tattoo thing seriously. At least seriously enough to insult you over it. He’s even snickering at you in amusement. His face is always, how can you put it… snide, but he does look a touch more evil when he starts grinning and shit. What a hoot, though. Really.

“Nah, there was this guy. He wore suspenders with plaid polos and these little sweaters over them. They were sustainable. Sustainable. Can you believe it? Sustainable! I didn’t stand a chance.” You poke him on the neck, already distracted from what you were rambling about. Kaiser is going to bring up your low attention span soon, you can smell it on him. It doesn’t take any effort to reach out, though, what with him sitting so close next to you. “This isn’t such a bad spot for a tattoo, actually. I don’t know, maybe you were onto something.”

“Paws off,” he says, swatting you away like a bug. A pedestrian bug, probably, at least in his imagination. “You really wanna fondle me that badly, you’ll use any excuse to do so?”

“Paws!” you repeat, clapping. “You’re hysterical.”

Kaiser rolls his eyes again. He seems to like to do that a lot, at least in your presence. If there was such a thing as competitive eye-rolling, you wager he’d be good at it, maybe even better than he is at football.

“No, but listen-”

“God, I hate it when you say that,” he interrupts with a groan, then contradicts himself by also swinging an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer just to yawn in your face with great exaggeration. The water is way too hot for this nonsense, so you push him away. “Because I never want to listen to you.”

“You’re crazy. Insane. It’s super clinical. Like, really.”

“Yes, I’m sure, unlike me, you’d pass a psychiatric evaluation because I’m crazy and you aren’t. Of course.”

“Imagine-”

“Can you stop topic-hopping?” Kaiser asks, annoyed. See, you knew he’d bring it up. “Does your head ever hurt with how much bullshit goes through it?”

You shush him. He scowls at you like you’re some mold growing in the bath, but you disregard his expression of disdain. “Imagine you’re having a nice day, I don’t know, at practice. Then I barge in with all of my asshole glory, right, and I walk up to you, and for no reason, I say, ‘On your knees,’ instead of greeting you. Isn’t that kinda deranged?”

Kaiser stares at you. To his credit, he’s decent at maintaining a poker face, but once he’s embarrassed, there’s no hiding it, no going back. Because no matter how much he does his usual male posturing or whatever it’s called, his face is all red, the blush even going up to his ears, mouth wavering the slightest bit. “W-What? In your dreams.”

“Oh, do you like getting bossed around or something?” you ask with the sensitivity of a numb toe. “That’s so pathetic.”

It’s quite the spectacle when his skin somehow becomes even more flush. Sick of your leering, maybe, Kaiser whips around, albeit not all the way, and covers his cheek with his hand while peering at you through his fingers. Finally, he decrees, “You suck,” with too much authority.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Forget about me, though. In that situation, do you spit or do you swallow?”

It’s unclear whether you’re getting any gratification out of this besides the satisfaction of flustering him, but you smile in amusement regardless. As if you care about Kaiser sitting there, looking all pretty and nervous because of some nonsense you’d been spewing. Not like you’re crazy about him or anything. That’d be ridiculous. You couldn’t be more unfazed if you tried.

You grab your towel with what you’d call impressive swiftness, then turn around and stand, covering yourself before preparing to go on your merry way. Kaiser pulls you back by the ankle, trying to trip you or something, the menace. Hilarious guy, really.

He is staring up at you in this petulant sort of way, grabbing onto his own towel with his other hand. “Why are you leaving so soon?” he asks, sounding peeved, as if you haven’t been here with him for an unreasonable amount of time already.

“I thought I should give you some privacy since you’re all hot and bothered now,” you say (with this douchebag laugh you have for situations like these, where you’re being a douchebag — self-explanatory), stepping out of his grip. Then you try to imitate his voice, but more high-pitched, accompanying your performance with a few vulgar hand gestures. “Oh, [Y/n], you slanderous pig! I think that’s what you’d sound like.”

“You’re such a lowlife,” he says, before all but leaping out of the bath and trying to maim you right here on the spot, and the only thing to save you from your demise is that he gets lightheaded and almost faints immediately after.

You reach out to pull him up and keep him steady, holding him by the arms. “You can’t be jumping out of the bath like that, man, come on.”

The lack of response concerns you, but after a while, Kaiser gathers his wits enough to say, “I’m going to make you slip, and I’ll be praying you split your head open.”

You burst out laughing. “Do it, then. You don’t have it in you, do you?”

Instead of doing as he promised to retaliate to your provocation, he settles for letting go of you and glaring, before clutching the side of his head and going still again. If there was any medical wing in this goddamn football contraption, maybe you would’ve taken him, but alas. At least you don’t need to worry about Kaiser too much since he eventually concedes and holds onto your arm for support.

The sight of you two stumbling around towards the changing room is probably comedic — uncoordinated as hell, covering yourselves with these flimsy little towels, using the hands not clutching at the other.

“You’re supposed to drink a lot of water before getting in,” you say.

“It’s your fault! You didn’t warn me we were going.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you weren’t invited. Jeez.”

“Oh, whatever.”

You return the tiny towel to the basket, swapping it for a bigger one and making quick work of drying yourself. You’re slipping on your shirt when you ask, “Is your head all right now?”

“I’m fine.”

When you turn around to judge whether he’s being truthful or not, he’s dabbing himself in a manner which is way more laborious, examining his reflection in the mirror as if he’s in some slow motion commercial where the camera will capture a conspicuous water droplet falling down his neck, admiring his jaw from different angles. He makes you sick sometimes.

“I’m not gonna wait for you to finish checking yourself out.”

He shoos you away with a dismissive wave of his hand. Unlike his, your actions most often align with your words, though, so you do walk out of the door. You’re not even ten steps in when Kaiser reappears, now magically dressed.

“Stop rushing,” he says, pushing you out of the way — and for no reason! There’s enough space for both of you in the hallway. You end up lagging a bit behind him. “I’m dizzy.”

“I thought you said-”

“Blah, blah,” he cuts you off, untying his hair and doing a bad job of smoothing it out with his fingers.

You’re rooming with him and Ness, so you’re already headed in the same direction. As much as this stinks, your other option was Gesner and Grim. God, is fucking Gesner obsessed with dick cheese. Of all things, that’s what he’s always talking about. Grim has your condolences, but the problem is out of your hands now.

“Your hairstyle’s ridiculous.”

Kaiser turns his nose up and smiles, coming off as pleased by the insult. “You can only wish to pull it off.” Always preening like a peacock. He’s entertaining. You swear he is.

You hook one of the ends, where it’s the bluest, around your finger, twirling it around and around. “I had a dream about you recently.”

“Aww, I’m on your mind even when you’re unconscious. I could vomit right now.”

“You were in the meditation position, but you were levitating, and the rat tails were holding you up.”

Maybe you’ve committed some kind of utmost offense, because he doesn’t even bother insisting they’re not rat tails this time. “Wow, those are the kinds of things you dream about me? Your brain is defective to the core.”

“What do you want me to dream about you, then? Are you implying something?”

He faces you, and he has this way of looking at you like you’re a blight on humanity. You have an urge to press your palms against his cheeks to check how warm they get when he blushes, but resist it. “You’re so delusional.”

He’s rolling his eyes again.

“Keep rolling them, see where it gets you.”

“What, are you implying something?” Kaiser asks, mocking you, but he seems kind of happy at the insinuation. You’re not about to point it out, though, having a semblance of self-preservation.

“But anyway, your hair,” you say. “It looks good for tugging on.”

He snorts, either at your audacity to speak such things out loud to him, or at the way you straight up ignored his question.

So you elaborate, just so he doesn’t get the wrong idea, “Yeah, like, I kinda wanna grab you and swing you around till you fly outta my grip.”

“What?! As if.”

“It’d be so funny, though.”

“Maybe to other stupid people like you. Dense people who always ruin the fucking moment, for example, that type of thing.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say, stifling a laugh before entering the room.

The lights are still on when you come in. Ness seems to be reading some kind of book, sitting upright and all. “Hey, guys. You were gone for a while.”

“We were,” Kaiser says, you assume just because he likes hearing himself talk. “All that time I can’t get back.”

You crouch down to get him a water bottle in case he forgot how dehydrated he was (or more likely decides he’s above getting it by himself). It’s rare for you to do something out of the goodness of your heart, so when you turn around to pass it and find him draping himself over the solitary bed — the one you won dibs on in an honest round of rock, paper, scissors — you swear to never do anything nice for him ever again.

“Hey, get off! It’s mine.”

“But I want it,” he whines, as if his word holds more weight than the aforementioned game of rock, paper, scissors, which, as already established, you won.

You’re about to make an earnest attempt at throwing him out of the bed until Ness comes to his defense. “Come on, leave him alone.”

Saying no to Kaiser is exceptionally easy. But going against what Ness is asking? You can’t get a read on the guy. He’s either way too happy most of the time, or is secretly plotting your murders for all you know. You toss the water bottle at Kaiser, leaving him to smirk at your relenting.

“By the way, do you mind if I turn the lights off after I do my nighttime routine in the bathroom? I’m kind of tired,” Ness says.

“Sure,” allows Kaiser. So generous and charming with a winning personality to boot, this guy.

You lean against the bunk bed and ask, “Oh yeah, why are you still up?”

“I thought it might be rude if I went to bed before you both came back, so I decided to wait.”

Damn, now you feel kind of bad for dilly-dallying for so long. You clutch your chest with a tasteful sense of drama. “You’re so perfect. Hey, Ness, you wanna take the top bunk?”

“Wow, really?”

“Why not at this point,” you say. After all, Ness came in second in the game, but gave it up to Kaiser, and he ruined everything already.

“Thanks!” He grins at you before rushing off to do his business, almost blinding you with the sweetness he emits. Your gaze trails after him until he leaves the room.

Kaiser is looking at you with a mix between scorn and disgust when you walk over to his side to retrieve your phone from the bedside table, but you pretend not to notice.

Figuring you have nothing better to do, you take Ness’s previous spot, lying down on your stomach, ready to check your notifications. In your peripheral vision, you see Kaiser take his shirt off theatrically, then he has the fucking nerve to throw it at you. He makes such a big show out of existing.

It’s probably more painless to throw him a glance now than to be stubborn, so you exhale out of your nostril in resignation and turn your attention back to him. Kaiser props himself on his elbow while reclining on his side, posing on the bed, gracing you with a bastard smile. Almost presenting himself like a Renaissance painting you’re supposed to admire in some chaste, intellectual kind of way.

“Wanna know something?”

“What?” he asks, apparently irritated since you don’t seem so appreciative of him right now.

“I think shitty, obnoxious guys like you need to be put in their place,” you tell him.

It really is way too obvious on his complexion when he starts getting shy. He’s like a breathing mood ring. It’s almost fascinating. For a second, Kaiser is incredulous, but then he turns smug again, addressing you with a sense of challenge. “Don’t even joke. You’re not really about it like that. All you do is talk.”

You think you’re gonna start having even more fun together after today.

___

No homo I HATE HIM 😍

#michael kaiser x you #michael kaiser x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk x you

[adamsmasher]

Okay it's after 1am and I've had a lot of wine so obviously it's time for a late night wall-of-text post, but this time it's less likely to piss off your weird uncle or whatever because once again, I gotta talk about the best $4.99 a month I've ever spent.

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Are you more of a traditional Whose Line fan? Look no further than Game Changer spin-off Make Some Noise, where contestants act out "improvisational prompts that [they have] never seen before, isn't that right contestants?" ("We won't know if we've seen them before or not until we see them!" Brennan insists every time he's on...)

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#dropout.tv #umm actually #dimension 20 #make some noise #game changer #brennan lee mulligan #aabria iyengar #for a late night wine-fueled rant on a broken keyboard i think this went well #actually i feel so guilty about my CR dig because i loved Exandria Calamity so much so please dont yell at me #also google said quiddie is exactly 6 feet i hope i did her justice

[buckymorelikefuckme]

a helping hand

jake jensen x fem reader

words: 3.7k

warnings: **18+ ONLY** friends to lovers, handjob, fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex (don't do that), jake has a big dick, my lame attempts at humor. please let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: SURPRISE!! this is honestly so silly. and filthy. i wrote it in a frenzy last night after the idea randomly came to me. keep in mind it's all based off the vague info i have about him. i probably took a lot of liberties. it wasn't planned for my first jakey fic to be this, but oh well lmao! any and all mistakes are my own. feedback is encouraged and greatly appreciated :) xo

With an exaggerated, put-upon sigh, you gesture vaguely at Jake to stand and say, “Alright, let me see it.”

“What?” Jake asks, brows furrowed so deeply you worry he’ll get a migraine.

“You’re being awfully dramatic about this, so I need to see what all the fuss is about,” you calmly explain, though still skeptical.

Jake had showed up at your apartment with a look of pure despair, ranting about how yet another hookup went south when they took their clothes off and his would-be partner saw his cock for the first time. Said they almost begged him to leave and take his monster with him.

Surely his dick can’t be that big, right?

Jake hesitates, watching you warily as he contemplates, but then he sighs heavily and he rises to his feet, grumbling as he unbuttons and lowers the zip on his jeans. His thumbs curl under the waistband of both the jeans and his underwear before he unceremoniously shoves them down to mid-thigh. And then there’s only silence that follows.

You blink. You stare. You blink again.

Jake shifts his weight on his feet, settling his hands on his hips awkwardly.

Finally, you find your voice.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you wheeze, your voice tight and airy as you struggle to remember how to inhale.

Jake groans, covering his face mournfully. “I told you!” he wails. “It’s too big! And I know, I know—boohoo woe is me I have a big dick—but listen, this is literally a big fucking problem. I’m going crazy here. It’s just not the same with only my hands!”

Probably because not even both of your hands can cover your gigantic fucking penis, you think to yourself, but thankfully, do not say aloud. And, alright, maybe you’re exaggerating just a little, but Jake is still easily the biggest you’ve ever seen. Like, leaps and bounds bigger. The length of it isn't overly scary or anything, it's just… thick, and veiny, has the slightest curve to it.

And the thing is, you really shouldn’t be so surprised. In general, Jake himself is… big. He’s tall, and broad, and his hands are works of fucking art with his long fingers and wide palms, and his thighs—Jesus, fuck, his thighs. They deserve sonnets alone, just for how sculpted and muscled they are. Even Jake’s pecs are big. And you’re normally not a tit person, but Jake’s? You’ve cupped and squeezed and fondled them probably too many times to be appropriate.

The point is, though, that Jake is fucking hot. You have always thought so, in an offhand kind of way, like, a passing observation. Jake is also sweet and attentive, always periodically checking in on each person in his friend group, always willing to offer advice or a listening ear. He’s incredibly smart while also endearingly dumb about so much. He never asks for help with anything because he doesn’t want to be a burden, no matter how many times he’s told he could never be. So you’re pretty sure that Jake has used up all of his courage and vulnerability by coming to you with his problem. And you are flummoxed as to why he chose you, but you will not let this opportunity pass you by.

“Jake,” you start after a slight pause, “I have lube, patience, and willpower.”

And Jake says, “Huh?”

Which is fair, to be honest.

“Can you, um, put your dick away so I can think properly?” you ask after delicately clearing your throat.

Jake flushes and hastily obeys before taking his spot on the couch again.

You shift to face him fully, taking in his pink cheeks and inability to meet your gaze, and you feel bad for being so blunt, for speaking before thinking.

“Sorry,” you apologize, “I just wasn't… You know.” You wave your hand around in a way that you hope says, I wasn't expecting you to have the most perfect cock I've ever seen, when your mind blanks on how to continue.

Then again, maybe it's a good thing you couldn't figure out a way to say that verbally.

You clear your throat again. “What I was trying to say is that, um, maybe I could help you?”

Jake tilts his head. “Help me?” he repeats.

“Yeah, you know, like,” you say, licking your lips, “I could lend a hand. So to speak.”

It only takes a split second for him to understand what you're saying. His eyes widen, round like saucers behind his glasses, ears now burning a bright red as he sputters.

“What? You're offering to—no, that's. No, you're not—this isn't what I—fuck, I think I’m gonna pass out,” he stammers breathlessly, and honestly, he is starting to look a bit lightheaded. He shakes himself, closing his eyes, then takes in a deep breath and releases it slowly.

You quietly wait for him to gather himself, almost wishing you hadn't said anything. Almost, but not really, not enough to try to take it back.

Finally, he blinks his eyes open and turns to you. “I didn't come here expecting you to–to help me with my… problem.”

“Jakey,” you say on an exhale, smiling. “I know that. I offered because I wanted to.”

“But why?” he questions, bewildered.

You purse your lips, glancing up at the ceiling as you think about your response carefully this time. “Because you're one of my best friends, and you're hurting, in a way. I know it's not like, the worst thing in the world to just get off with your own hands, but I feel like getting shot down at the last minute every time you go to have sex can't be good for you mentally, either.”

Jake shifts his gaze to his lap then, mouth twisting into something disappointed, and that just confirms what you've said. He's started taking this to heart, beating himself up over something entirely out of his control. Sure, you wanna get your hands, mouth, and everything else on his dick, but a guy like Jake deserves to be brought to orgasm by someone else.

“Think of it as a favor,” you try, quietly, nudging his arm.

Swallowing roughly, he meets your eyes, searching. “Are you sure?” he asks after a long pause.

You reach out and grab his hand, twining your fingers with his. “I’m sure.” When he still hesitates, you squeeze his hand lightly. “You can say no, Jake.”

“No.” You start to pull away, and then he shakes his head quickly, holding on to you tighter. “No, I mean—I don't want to say no. I'm just. I'm a little nervous.”

His confession breaks your heart a little more. On the surface, this problem isn't all that serious, but underneath it all, Jake is craving connection. You’ll make sure he leaves your apartment more than satisfied.

“If at any point, for any reason, you want to stop then we’ll stop,” you promise.

He finally smiles, small and lopsided, and nods in agreement. You stand up, tugging him to rise with you and struggling to lift all that muscle mass.

“Come on,” you instruct, “let's go to my bedroom. We’ll have more space there.”

Silently, he follows you to your room, palm clammy against yours. The sun is shining through your windows, beams landing directly on your bed like some kind of spotlight. You let go of Jake’s hand to quickly shove your comforter to the foot of your bed then climb onto it.

“C’mere,” you murmur when you see him hovering unsurely beside the bed, patting the space between your legs.

First, Jake makes quick work of the button and zip on his jeans, before knee-walking to where you indicated. You both settle on the mattress, your back to the headboard and Jake getting comfortable against your chest and into the cradle of your spread thighs. The position really highlights your size difference, almost comically, and you have to swallow down all the things you want to say or sounds that threaten to escape.

Jake already has his jeans back down around his knees and quickly wiggles his underwear down to get his dick out. He’s jittery, his movements stilted and awkward, like he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself.

“Relax, Jakey,” you softly instruct, reaching up to squeeze at his shoulders comfortingly. “It’s just me. I’m here to help, okay?”

“Right,” Jake replies on an exhale, nodding, “okay. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Your lips quirk slightly. “Good. I’m gonna touch you now, alright?”

“Okay,” Jake murmurs.

You hear him swallow, see his fists clench and unclench where they’re resting beside his thighs. Tentatively, as if not to startle him, you move your hands to Jake’s hips, petting over the exposed skin there. You hear Jake’s breath hitch then, so you keep going. You trail your fingers down the tops of Jake’s thighs, into the crease where they meet his groin and back up, just a touch higher than before, and you repeat the motion a few times until you’ve worked the hem of Jake’s shirt up to give you better access to his torso.

Slowly, Jake sinks further and further into your embrace, getting heavier and heavier the more you touch him. You are quietly loving the weight of him, the way his head is starting to loll and his eyelids beginning to flutter. You watch Jake bite his lip when you finally tease closer to his hardening cock, running your fingernails lightly across the trimmed hair above it.

You raise one of your hands, palm up, with a soft, “Jake,” as instruction.

He blinks down at your hand for a second, dazed, and then he’s carefully holding your hand and bringing it up to press a surprisingly gentle kiss to your palm. You feel your face grow hot as you hide your smile in Jake’s shoulder, though you’re positive he can feel it anyway.

“Jakey,” you say again, painfully endeared, “I meant for you to, you know, get my hand wet.”

“Oh.” He huffs a little at himself, but he doesn’t hesitate to bring your hand back up to his mouth and drag his tongue across your open palm.

Now it’s your turn for your breath to catch in your throat, locking every part of your body so you don't make any sudden movements or do something stupid. That gets more difficult to avoid when Jake, after thoroughly licking all over your hand, tops it all off by gathering the remaining saliva in his mouth, makes you cup your hand and then spits into it. For a split second, you think you’re about to come, which would be mortifying, so you’re glad when you’re able to reign in your hormones and offer a small thank you so you can get back to the task at hand. Literally.

You bite the inside of your cheek as you finally allow yourself to look over Jake’s shoulder, and honestly, you could weep at the sight before you. Jake’s cock is fully hard now, lying against his toned stomach, looking more intimidating than ever. Somehow his cock seems bigger, and thicker too. Your mouth waters, but you tell yourself to focus.

With your dry hand, you lift Jake’s cock, holding him at the base while you bring your other hand down to curl around the head. Jake gasps lightly, but otherwise stays still and quiet, at least until you begin stroking him. Slow and steady, you drag your hand down to the base of Jake’s cock, then add a little more pressure on the upstroke. Jake makes a punched out kind of sound, his knees jerking up slightly before settling back in place. A thrill rushes through you, powerful and giddy at the thought of Jake being at your mercy, of being the one to pull out even these tiny reactions. It makes you want to see just how loud you can make him. For now, though, you continue your steady pace, feeling more than hearing Jake’s sigh when you use your free hand to start touching him everywhere you can reach again.

What’s dangerous about this is that you could get used to it. You’re pretty sure you already are, and that could spell disaster for you, because you’re just supposed to be helping him out. This is only supposed to be offering Jake some relief after being unable to get off with a partner, to give him pleasure that isn’t by his own hands. You press your lips together and speed up your stroking, just a smidge, squeeze a bit more around the head and dig your thumb into Jake’s slit.

“Oh,” he utters, head falling back to rest on your shoulder, eyes closed tight and hips twitching up into your touch, chasing the feeling.

“Does it feel good, Jakey?” you boldly ask.

Jake nods and hums. “So good,” he affirms. He moves his hands to grip your knees as he adds, “Being so good to me, sweetheart.”

And, well. Fuck. You've been trying to pretend your pussy isn't wetter than it's been in a long while, but his words have you wishing you could close your thighs for some much needed friction. Subtly, you try to shift your hips and all it does is make you more frustrated. You let out a huff, breath fanning out against Jake’s neck. He shivers against you and you pause. Your lack of movement makes him whine, low and pleading, and it jolts you back into action.

Dragging your gaze down the line of his throat only makes you want to put your mouth on it, see if you can get him to shiver again. You peek at his face and see his eyes are still closed. Softly, so soft, you lean in and press a kiss to the side of his neck, and the way he responds is beautiful.

He whimpers, tilts his head back further to give you more room, his hips bucking up into your hold as you continue stroking him at a rhythmic pace. And you really can't say no to that kind of invitation. So, sufficiently sure that he doesn't mind it, you press even more kisses into his skin, trailing them up and down his neck and shoulder, as far as you can reach. The kisses turn wet, your tongue flicking out to taste him. Jake’s stomach muscles clench, and you quicken the pace of your hand up a bit, mouthing sloppily up his neck to his ear.

“Don't know how anyone could refuse you,” you mutter, your own breathing getting heavier to match his. “How can anyone look at your cock and not want to sit on it, Jakey? It doesn't make sense.”

He groans, planting his feet on the mattress so he has better leverage to thrust up into your fist, panting and letting out needy sounds.

“God, Jake,” you whine. You suck and bite a mark on his throat, pulling away once you're happy with it. “I bet you would feel perfect inside me,” you confess in a whisper.

“Stop,” he pants, and you let go of him in an instant, stomach dropping.

Before you can start to panic too much, Jake clumsily shifts around until he's on his haunches facing you, flushed all the way down his chest, eyes blazing behind his frames. You open your mouth to ask him what's wrong, but then he's gripping you under your knees and yanking. You fall flat on your back with a startled yelp and Jake is there to swallow the sound, kissing you like it's his lifeline. A moan rips its way out of your chest, arms coming up to wrap around his shoulders and pull him closer to you.

He breaks the kiss, glasses askew, to ask, “Can I please fuck you?”

Any other time you'd snort at the politeness of such a vulgar question, but at the moment all you can do is nod, roughly tugging at his shirt until he gets the hint and removes it, almost knocking his glasses off entirely. It lands somewhere on the floor, along with his jeans and underwear a second later. You squirm once you see his body fully naked, core throbbing in need to have it against you, on top of you.

“You too,” he murmurs, reaching for your shorts.

You lift your hips to help him, biting your lip at the way he curses when he realizes you aren’t wearing panties. With a grin, you surprise him further by taking off your t-shirt and reveal you're also not wearing a bra.

“Would it totally ruin the moment if I say I’ve wanted this for way too long?” he wonders, eyes raking over your body, his hands joining soon after.

You smile softly and shake your head. “Not at all.” He returns your smile, but yours eases into something mischievous. “But what will ruin the moment is if you don't get your fingers in me to get me ready for your big cock.”

Jake’s smile drops. “Fuck,” he says with feeling.

To incentivize him, you spread your legs, hand tracing a path down to where you're dripping. He watches with blown pupils and a slack jaw. When you hum as your fingers lightly glide down your slit, he snaps into focus. He knocks your hand away to replace it with his own. You sigh at the touch of his calluses on your sensitive skin, tilting your hips up and moaning when he finally sinks one finger inside you.

Thankfully, he doesn't seem to want to waste time, thrusting his finger steadily. You've never appreciated how long his fingers are more than you are at this very moment. He works you up to three of them much too fast for your liking, but you understand the urgency he’s feeling, and you can't really deny that you're feeling it too.

“That's good, Jake, c’mon, please get in me already,” you beg, shifting restlessly.

“Shit,” he breathes, “okay, yeah, let me just—”

He shuffles closer, taking his cock in hand and rubbing it up and down your slit, the head catching on your opening, making you whine. He curses under his breath some more and starts pushing in. Your mouth drops open, but no sound comes out, brows furrowing deeply as he splits you open on his cock. When he bottoms out, you let out a sharp exhale that hitches in your chest, while Jake’s chest is heaving like he's run a marathon.

“So tight,” he mutters.

“So—” You hiccup through a desperate sob. “So big, oh my god, Jakey, baby, please move, I need you to move.”

His chin drops to his chest with a pained sounding groan, but he listens. He draws his hips back, cock dragging deliciously out of you, before he thrusts back in. You're not sure you've stopped making noise since he started pulling out, high and needy and hungry pleas for more, and he's barely even gotten started.

Every sensation feels dialed up to a million. You're not sure sex has ever been like this for you; like your skin is on fire, like you can feel your pulse throb through every limb, through every single finger and toe, but especially in your clit. Your nipples even feel more sensitive than usual as they brush against his chest. Your body is positively singing with pleasure.

And Jake… Oh, that sweet, precious man is in heaven. You know you're tight around him, warm and wet, the perfect place to fuck into, and now that he's finally getting what he's wanted he's not holding back. He's fucking you like he’s gonna be graded on it after. His hips slam into yours and he can't stop making noises of his own. Grunts, soft gasps, neverending praise over how you feel, how he's so happy this is happening, how he's never going to stop fucking you.

Your nails dig into the flesh on his back, dragging all the way down until you flatten your palms on his ass and squeeze. His thrusting falters for a second, but he finds his rhythm again quickly, dropping to his elbows so that he's even closer. He kisses along your collarbones, nipping at the base of your throat before sucking at the spot harshly. You moan brokenly and clutch at him tighter.

“Left my mark on you, too,” he declares, kissing the bruise he’s made, then kisses you properly, tongue sliding across yours and dipping into your mouth.

You're not sure how much longer you can hold back from touching your clit, your need ratcheting higher and higher, but you know Jake is right there with you. He's pounding into you roughly now, chasing his climax with determination. Reaching down, you swipe your fingers through your slick and use it to rub your clit, a whimper escaping you when you tighten around him from the added stimulation. Jake growls and speeds up some, hitching one of your legs up his side. It changes the angle just enough that he's hitting that spot inside you that has you crying out, a long warble of his name, fingers quickening their pace on your clit.

“Yeah, that's it,” he encourages. “Please, come for me. Come on, baby, let me see it, wanna watch you fall apart.”

All of your breath gets trapped in your lungs as warmth pools in your core and bursts outward, your pussy fluttering and clamping down on his cock. Your body shivers through your climax, thighs trembling unceasingly as Jake groans and fucks you harder, three, four more times before stilling. He comes with a loud moan, grinding inside you as he rides it out.

After a moment, he collapses on top of you. You grunt at his weight, but smile tiredly at your ceiling, combing your fingers through his hair. You feel him press a kiss on your shoulder.

“Thank you,” he mumbles.

That makes you giggle, which in turn makes you clench and has Jake whining since he's still buried inside you. Gingerly, he pulls out, both of you hissing at the sensation. He runs a tender finger along the outside of your opening.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks, concerned.

“No, baby,” you whisper.

He meets your gaze then, hopeful, still flushed with exertion and glasses slightly foggy. “Baby?”

You hum with a grin. “Yes. My big, beefy baby,” you tease. “I’m keeping you all to myself now.”

“You know, I think I just might be okay with that,” he replies, beaming in a way that puts the sunlight through your window to shame.

#jake jensen #jake jensen x reader #jake jensen x you #jake jensen fic #jake jensen fanfiction #jake jensen smut #jake jensen fluff

[cryptidcorners]

Hello again! I have yet another request to ask of my favorite Mike writer, if you are in want of something to make. How about Abby’s babysitter girl and her are playing/reenacting Abby’s favorite fairy tale, then Mike steps in just in time and Abby demands he come over to play Prince Charming. Humiliating Mike, amusing the babysitter, and then also stirring up romantic feelings all the while. Thanks so much!

Crown - Mike Schmidt x F!Reader

Description: Mike is dragged into another one of Abby's plays, being forced to play Prince Charming with you as some warrior princess as the pairing. As Abby's creative tale unfolds, she's completely oblivious to your romantic tension with her older brother.

# requested by @/scribblesandsherlock

Media: FNaF!Movie

Character: Mike Schmidt (+ Abby)

Tags: Babysitter!Reader, Flusteted Mike, Domestic, Fluff, Playing With Abby, Fantasy Themed, Romantic Tension, Slice of Life, Friends to ? ? ?, Some Flirting, Cute Stuff, Feminine Terms used !

No Warnings.

read my TOS + Mike Schmidt Masterlist

"And then—" Abby was holding a cardboard tube colored messily over your head, blessing you with the imaginary title of "Warrior queen of the Rabbit Kingdom." which held a decent ring to it. Trying hard to desperately not break out of character, you giggled and replied as seriously as you could: "Thank you for bestowing this honor on me, Queen Schmidt."

Abby giggled and cleared her throat, shaking in excitement. "Now, I give you the honor of my son. Prince—uhm, Schmidt." She shrugged at you with a smile, then shifted back into her Queen Schmidt personality. "So you can get married and live happily ever after," her eyes wandered around for a toy suitable to fit the role. You gazed around too, "Oh, no. Is your son, perhaps, missing?"

"I hope not." Abby said, "You'll see him." she scavenged around and you sat comfortably. Until you saw Mike walk into the room, fixing the color of his sweater, unknowing of the world he was about to accidentally walk into, "Hey Abs, have you seen my—" Mike halted. "What is happening?"

"Hey, you can be the prince." Abby said, "I think my crown can fix you."

Mike raised his hands defensively, "Oh, no. I'm not good at playing royalty." he shook his head. "Besides, I need to go shopping."

"When will you be back?" You asked in your normal tone of voice.

"Three," he said. "Three-ish?"

"Ah,"

"Mike, please." Abby begs, tugging her sluggish older brother by his sleeve as he stumbles hunched toward to level with her. Mike huffs, "Do I really need to be a prince? Why not a knight, or something cool?" he humors lightly. His eyes wash up at you, and he can't resist giggling at your costume made from scratch. It was impressive what Abby could make with her scrapes of material and tape. "No, she's the the knight." Abby pointed. Amused, you respond, "and a princess."

"And a princess." Abby adds, "And a witch!"

"Oh. So, I don't get any powers?" Mike says dryly, though there's a scrape of playfulness wrapped behind his blunt demeanour. He sat up and shut his eyes promptly for Abby to delicately place a cardboard mock crown on Mike's head. Abby smiled, before replying honestly, "That's because you're lame. Maybe next time you can be a princess, witch and knight."

"Goodie." Mike was obviously trying to drag a laugh out of you with his dramatic tone. You could see his eyes twinkled when it worked. There was a circle of stuffed animals and dolls, all clad in an organic costume made from Abby's workshop of a room.

"Okay, now we have a prince." She discarded the toy in her hand. "Now, you two can get married. And rule The Rabbit Kingdom."

"Married?" Mike knew it was pretend but his face flushed. "I didn't know that,"

"I am a princess, and you're the prince." You explained, almost toying with him. Mike chuckled, covering his face in light embarrassment.

"Yeah, Mike. Catch up." She cleared her throat. Mike was enjoying it much more than he thought he would. Maybe it was the idea of marrying you that sounded appealing, but that was ridiculous. He didn't love you. Did he?

Abby grabbed a floppy cat with buttoned eyes and calico patterns, making a deep voice. "I am the priest, and I say, that—we are gathered here today to see a prince and a princess get married. And, well . . ." She trailed off. "I don't know what a priest says, so. You're married!" She dropped the toy and tube together. Raising her hands out dramatically with a fun smile. "You can kiss now. Like couples do," she snickered.

You and Mike got close, giggling and awkwardly talking over each other as you tried to find a loophole. Mike swore his face was as hot as a furnace, and your stomach was twisted with butterflies caught in a trap. Abby broke the strange mental tango between you two, "You can hug if you want."

"Oh, right." You gazed at Abby, then back at Mike.

"Yeah, we can do that." He said. And so you did. Falling into a tight embrace for a couple seconds. Mike wanted to be longer, but he had errands. Plus, he doubt you'd stay long enough. Abby giggled, "You guys are husband and wife, now! Awesome." she looked around, eyes plotting something. She ran towards her room,"One second, I need to get something! Don't leave, Mike."

Yet, as soon as she disappeared. Mike stood up with a grunt, sighing. With a gentle smile, you gazed up at him. "Going so soon? We just got married."

"Very funny." Mike's cheeks flared as he removed the crown delicately and ran his fingers through his curls. He sighed and grabbed his wallet that was sitting longingly on the tabletop. "Tell her I got kidnapped by some monster or something, I'll think of a way to sneak in."

"Well, you got the right girl." You walked up to him, grabbing the door. "I am a warrior too."

"You're very in character." Mike hummed. "Is this going to be referenced often? Is it gonna be a thing?"

"Maybe, maybe not." You chuckled.

Once Mike had left his house. He felt an intense whirlwind of emotions. Romantic emotions. Loving feelings and sick stomach aches. Mike knew he wasn't a real prince, nor were you the ruler of some Bunny Palace but part of him was thinking of a life like that. Not with royalty or talking animals, but just you two. Married. The thought wasn't too strong, yet. But it kept him smiling when he was shopping. All the way through.

#💤 mike schmidt #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt fluff #fnaf movie #fnaf #josh hutcherson #writing #writers on tumblr #💌 request! #scribblesandsherlock