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#always touching lol. idiots
stinkrascal · 2 years
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When you say they bully vlad, is it bully affectionate or bully bad?
mostly bully affectionate but vlad takes literally everything personally because he is an insecure narcissistic baby man so when they mock him he's like "I've no idea why I bother with the likes of you people. You are all moronic, crass, and therefore beneath me." to which theyre all like "ok Vladdy Daddy <3 whatever makes you feel better!"
#jade answers#anonymous#straud asks#except for yakov he literally just calls vlad stupid on the regular#yakov taught vlad how to read and write in russian and english#so every time they meet yakov is like Let us touch up on your grammar skills my dear idiot boy!#marcellus and helena constantly mock vlad for being a sex pest. he says anything and they're like#Vladdy Daddy you would feel so much better if only you got pegged. Why don't you visit a brothel my boy?#they all call vlad 'boy; and vlad HATESSS it. he's always like 'I am NOT a boy. I'm a GROWN MAN!'#to which nadia will pinch his cheek and say 'Yes sweetheart and look at how grown you are! <3'#actually inessa just straight up insults him too because he has a terrible sense of fashion. but she does that to everyone so its ok#in my universe pretty much everyone mocks vlad bc he takes himself so seriously and hes incapable of having fun#even the vatores make fun of him except caleb doesnt mean to hes just very honest and whenever caleb sees vlad#acting like an insecure narcissistic baby man he's like#Vladislaus you are being unreasonable again. Perhaps if you had a hobby you wouldn't have such a terrible personality#lilith wants to murder vlad it isn't even bullying on her end they literally hate each other#lilith is also vlad in a different font. insecure narcissistic baby woman#the only person who takes vlad as seriously as he takes himself is breanna lol she thinks he's sooooo cool#but canonically every vampire ever thinks he's a wet blanket#all of this lore predates the straud legacy btw. this is all vlad/brie backstory reprisal lore#when vlad and breanna finally get together and start a family he's a lot less petty and vindictive. he calms down a lot
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violencebian · 2 years
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sighs
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screampied · 3 months
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BAD ROMANCE! — ☆ SATOSUGU.
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➤ popstar!gojo mlist.
headline. being sandwiched between a popstar and geto, his bassist best friend was almost like a fever dream. what happens when they start fighting over who can make you moan the highest note? sharing is caring…right?
word count. 5.8k (i am sorry)
warnings. fem! reader, popstar!gojo au, bassist geto, geto has a tongue piercing, threesome, double penetration, manhandling, fucking while standing, size kink, unprotected sex, implied multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, gojo slander (lol)
an. makes sense if u read the first part !! if not that’s okaaay. sry for any errorssss aha
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“seriously. join…the two of you?” geto mutters with a subtle eye twitch—you stared at the lead bassist, and he briefly returned a glance. his hands were buried in his pockets, wearing a leather jacket, ripped jeans and a fitted white tank underneath. geto’s hair was a tad bit ruffled with a perfect length wolf cut. “you do realize your fans have been waiting for you for over an hour.”
“oh….right, i did have a concert,” gojo nervously chuckles, running a hand down his neck. “they heard everything too. nanami’s gonna kill me. that’s fun.”
geto’s eyes dart back towards you and suddenly you feel extremely nervous. you could never ever read him, he just a blank stare plastered amongst his face.
“i don’t think we’ve officially met. wish i didn’t have to meet you half-naked but,” and you were embarrassed, feeling the tips of your ears get feverish and abnormally hot. “i’m this idiot’s bassist. suguru ge—”
“bro she didn’t ask for your life story,” gojo groans, and you let off a gasp once he lifts you up, an arm underneath you and another bringing you towards his chest. “sugupoo, you didn’t answer my question.”
“sugupo—” he furrows his eyebrows, repeating the petname. geto grumbles, “…fine, but not here. we can…go back to my hotel or something.”
this was far more than anything you could have imagined. being between two idols. more so gojo but still. you were pretty much left with shredded clothing thanks to gojo barely even an hour ago…
“is she always this sensitive to touch?” geto utters, peeling your the remains of your clothes off — which was basically just a thin robe. he was tantalizingly slow with his hands, the very pads of his fingertips ghosting against your skin made you left off a soft gasp.
“pretty much,” gojo hums, and you watch as the popstar lowers his head to kiss near your thighs. “she’s a little camera shy.”
“what does that even-”
“…nevermind.”
geto was more tame while gojo was far more eager. you make brief eye contact with geto and he leans in toward you. you were expecting him to kiss you but instead, he brings a thumb towards your lip and smiles. “you’re a lot prettier in person, assistant. what are you doing messing around with this idiot?”
“um—”
“none of your business. besides, don’t talk to my work wife like that.” gojo pouts, and he makes you face him directly. 
obviously, he was being nothing but a pure tease. you feel yourself grow hot once gojo presses his lips onto yours. you could hear geto scoffing in the background.
you and gojo weren’t exactly a thing… although, maybe this “thing” was developing into some sort of fling. 
you moan into his mouth, feeling gojo’s hand trail down to part against your thigh before geto pries the two of you off, only to bring you into a much more steamy kiss. 
gojo’s jaw drops dramatically, a squeaky gasp leaving his lips as he watches you make out with geto.
geto was far more passionate and tender by a mile. with a soft thumb grazing beneath your chin, you let off a soft whine. tasting the sugary spiced alcohol on his tongue…..just a tang, but it was enough for you to covet more of him. more of his taste.
“this isn’t…. fair.” gojo nags, yet his body feels otherwise. seeing his bassist of a best friend kiss you deeply, touching all over your body. he started to feel himself get…aroused. 
you feel a cunning smirk go against geto’s lips. with a hand gripped softly underneath your chin, he continues to stroke it soothingly. 
he was so deliberate with his tongue, making sure to savour every inch of you. a groan leaves his mouth as he deepens the kiss for a brisk second. his breath was eminently lukewarm, and you don’t even recollect yourself pulling him closer to your already achey body. 
“suguru, you’re beinʼ stingy,” gojo frowns, starting to think if suggesting him to tag along was a good idea… perhaps not… after all, he was the satoru gojo. he’s never been a fan of share the spotlight.
geto swiftly pulls away and his eye contact against you makes you grow hot. his eyes spoke a thousand words, dirty dirty words though. gojo lets off a vexed sigh before running a hand through his hair. “…i have an idea though.”
“what?” you and geto both speak in low unison. 
the popstar has a cheeky grin on his lips before playfully rolling his eyes, tilting his head. “which can make her louder. then again, i already know i’m gonna win sooo…”
geto utters in the most sassiest tone imaginable, “please. you’d probably be the loudest out of all of us but fine.”
the thought of them both fighting over you, your client, and his best friend as well as his lead bassist.
you firmly clasped your thighs together before shyly drawing circles against the outer part of your arm. “well, he was pretty loud earlier. his fans heard him moaning all through his mic backstage and—”
“tch. shut up..” he grumbles, trying to forget that incident even happened. 
gojo now decides to pulls you into sweet passionate fulfilled kiss, and it’s deep with a bit of tongue.
you were indeed basically naked with the exception of a silk sage-colored robe he bought you as a new year’s eve gift. it hung down your body perfectly, just enough to make out your skin. 
geto makes you slip a whine into gojo’s mouth once he spreads your legs with one hand—you were drenched, soaked….no doubt about it. “no panties,” he mutters in a rough voice. “satoru must’ve beat me to it, hmpf.”
you started to pant the more gojo moved his tongue against yours, you could tell how needy he was. even though he already had a taste from you earlier, he wanted more. you were like some kind of candy, intoxicatingly sweetened. 
he smoothly slides his tongue against your bottom lip, grunting from the leftover taste of your flavored lip gloss that was by this point smeared across your lips. whenever gojo kissed you, you had this warm burning feeling inside. it was indescribable, you knew more than anyone how unprofessional this was…yet it felt good, his touch, his taste, even his rich scent. 
“what a mess. already drenched for me,” geto murmurs, and you peek an eye open to watch the bassist go down, between your legs. you sit up with gojo tilting your head to face him, thighs spread apart and you let off a moan once he starts to work his way. 
slowly, geto creates tender kisses… 
he creates a simple trail, all up your thighs. the softness of his lips pressing against your skin made you whine against gojo’s lips.
gojo moves your chin back to focus back towards him, and he gives your bottom lip an impish bite.
peppering the side parts of your mouth with numerous wet kisses. “mwah,” he’d coo, a teasing gesture yet the stare he gave you made you throb. “my fans heard us…heard you, y’know. how does that make you feel?”
you stare at gojo, and his eyebrows are slightly raised in curiosity. he was such a tease, wanting to know your response. 
geto’s tongue licks against the inner part of your thigh and you moan. that’s when you feel a slight coldness of his tongue piercing run against your skin — it tickles but in the best way imaginable. 
he starts to suck against your skin, a soft ‘pop’ skims past his lips and you whine before gojo squeezes your lips together. 
“heyyy, pretty. ‘m talking to you.” he whispers, leaning in to sneak another kiss on your mouth. 
“i— i liked it,” you utter, geto’s touch from underneath, a finger trailing against your skin with his tongue following shortly afterward made you pulse continuously. “knowing everyone heard me….your die-hard fans, it turned me on a little.”
“yeah? did it really?” he grins, showcasing a casual head tilt. “wow, you really are a kinky girl. but it turned me on too,” he adds, inching his face towards your neck to give it a soft suck. “hmph. next time i should probably fuck you on stage, wouldn’t that be a pretty sight,” he murmurs, his voice playfully lowering. “ooh, it’s probably all over the headlines, but eh, who gives a shit, right? not me, and definitely not her.”
you were just about to let off a mewl once gojo reached down to give your pussy a mean squeeze as soon as he referred to it as ‘her.’
he brings an additional kiss to you before you feel the warmth of geto’s breath fan against your entrance. you start to pant, feeling gojo’s hands roam and wander all against your body. 
an abrupt shock surges throughout your skin from his fingertips and the silk robe you wore. gojo traced a thumb against your nipple—your overly-sensitive nipple that poked through the thin pretty fabric. you were so aroused that your mind raced just as quickly as your heartbeat did. 
“fuck…dunno know what it is about you,” he murmurs, breaking away a few seconds to speak. there was a titillating bass that carried underneath gojo’s tone. 
you could hear it in his voice, how pitchy and low it would get at certain times. “just lookin’ at you gets me s-so hard,” and then he swallowed for a second, departing eye contact out of sheer flusteredness and it was cute. “still a bit…sensitive from earlier though. had the audacity to keep ridin’ me after i c-came.” 
“sorry.” you playfully press your lips together, glancing up at him and he grows embarrassed for a moment at remembering the pure thought. 
the image of him… the satoru gojo and you, his trusty assistant — being on top of the famous well-known pop star, riding him until he whined for just you and only you.
not to mention as well as having him as an entire mess underneath you. he probably was too stubborn to realize it but you had him wrapped around your pretty little finger…
to think that was just about nearly half an hour ago. your thoughts get interrupted from feeling geto’s tongue meekly lick against your inner folds. a sharp breath elicits from your throat as you look down at him already staring at you with a smug grin. 
“toru already got here too?” he whispers, ghosting a thumb against your sodden folds. his slender fingers were so long and lengthy, nails perfectly manicured, and of course, he’d have well-trimmed nails because of his status as a professional bassist.
all things considered, geto would just be godly with his fingers. it was no secret, really…
“of course i fuckin’ did.” gojo pouts, giving him a nettled glare. 
geto snickers. “aw. poor girl,” and then he makes eye contact with you, smugly simpering.
geto takes a second to tie his hair back into a messy ponytail before pursing his lips to speak. “he’s a good singer, yeahhh. but he has a huge lack of skill at eating pussy. trust me.”
“shut up, man..” gojo’s eyes widen, the tips of his ears burning, it was adorable. “that’s…not true.”
it was.
“suguruuu..” you whined, not even realize how much you were desperately aching for him. the two bickering was a constant thing, but you decided to ignore it and let the lust take over. 
“i’m sorry, i should be paying more attention to you,” he mutters, using a hand to shove your right thigh a few inches away.
geto promptly rolls out his tongue….slowly, pink and pretty. clean. your eyes peer at the pretty piercing that laid flat against the center part. “keep these legs spread for me. can you be a good girl ‘n do that?”
you unwittingly feel yourself pulse just from that action of him showing you a good view of his tongue. you give the bassist a pathetic eager nod, a hand running towards the roots of his hair to grip it before he grins. “good, ‘cause ‘m starved.”
“sugu, what… what am i supposed to do?” gojo huffs out. 
“figure it out yourself, popstar.” geto murmurs, and a soft pout twists against gojo’s lips. 
that’s when he makes you turn over to where you’re on your hands and knees—you face forward, most importantly, you face forward right against gojo’s crotch. face front and all.
he lingers near the edge of the bed, towering over you with a hungry gaze before letting off a whine. 
“jus’ look at me….i can’t perform like this,” not like he was going to perform anyway…but you stare at gojo’s body. all he wore was sweats, the original partially bedazzled outfit that was actually geto’s was practically torn. “you gave me this boner, ‘s your fault ‘m all needy.”
geto interrupts the erotic atmosphere with his tongue gradually flicking against your pussy, two rough hands spread the fat of your ass and you whine at how abruptly lewd it was. “oh my g-goddd.”
gojo feels like he has competition with geto, so he frowns—the pout remaining on his pink sheeny lips before he grips ahold of your chin to make you stare straight at him whilst you’re on all fours on the cushioned mattress. 
“been…been wantin’ to finally see what this pretty throat feels like,” 
he sighs, and he watches as you already start to lean into his touch. you’re on the palms of your hands, back slightly arched before you pull the hem of his boxers down with your teeth. “you’re such a little... you…you know what you’re doing..”
gojo lets off a soft grunt, gripping your hair, and as you inch your face closer toward him — a few specks of his neatly scattered brush against his face. you lick against the padded fabric of his boxers, curving your tongue against the print of his bulge and he swallows thickly. 
“you’re so fuckin’ nasty,” he huffs, bringing you all close to his briefs. you stare up at gojo, licking against the thin madematerial before cupping your mouth over his bulge…right near his base, in a much playful manner. “you’re—just asking to have a stuffed full mouth, huh?”
again, geto’s tongue rummaged all throughout your pussy while you absentmindly toying with gojo throws you off for a sudden concise moment. 
he was just as filthy, maybe even filthier. as you propped up—you whimpered, feeling how he ran his tongue all along your sweetened labia. 
your pussy pulsed against his movements, he starts to teasingly nibble on your clit before giving it a loooong suck. 
“mmph.” he’d grumble, and within minutes you could tell you had him entirely drunk. his tongue was just skimming around and against your clit that forevermore clenched. before you know it, you’re starting to intensely jounce and convulse because of the stimulation. 
his tongue laid flat against your pussy, the piercing that stuck against him, the slight coldness of it made you obliviously arch your back a bit more. toes of yours clenched in desire before your mouth opened at his technique.
geto was slow but sensual. 
his tongue… it spiraled against your pussy in a sweet motion to make you sob out a cry. 
“open that mouth,” gojo mutters, his hand still gripping your chin, and you do, parting your lips before watching him spring his dick out. it was throbbing, swollen, and not to mention quite pretty.
he wasn’t lying—you did leave him incredibly sensitive from earlier…
gojo lets off a breathless groan once he watches you kiss the tip of his cock head, which ends up turning into many kisses. his lip quivers the more time he spends staring at you. his breath becomes abnormally shaky, all because of you.
“…don’t tease me,” he whines before wrapping shuddery fingers around his fat length, giving it a few swift pumps before he starts to smear his pre-cum smothered tip all across your lips.
you give the popstar a cute, roguish glance before skimming the tip of your tongue against his frenulum. 
that spot…it was that spot that always gave gojo chills. he was trying too hard to keep up a tough front. he’s suppressing his moans before he watches you sink him down inch by inch. 
“mouth of yours ‘s just askin’ to be ruined,” he moans, and your eyes dart back up toward the popstar. his washboard abs tightened as he stood still, watching you lower your throat on him. you were a bit sloppy not to mention, strands of spit were already running down the side of your chin. “such a slutty assistant. unprofessional and—”
gojo shuts up the moment he feels your tongue stir leisurely against his tip, he’s halfway in before you gag. he reaches the roof of your mouth already, and you’re keeping him warm, all thanks to your throat.
“…damn girl,” he huffs, and as you’re breathing through your nose, he grabs a fistful of your hair.
with a tight pull, your eyes meet his abs again, and he was so fit. figures, he is an industrially well-trained dancer after all. gojo’s workout routine was no mystery. you throbbed a bit the more you stared at his body. 
as your eyes rove, you spotted a few lipstick stains smeared all against gojo’s skin, as well as a few sharpie marks. you figured it was from one of his obsessed die-hard fans.
it was just the way his perfectly sculptured chiseled v-line presented itself. the few specks of white hairs trailing down his area further and further to where it aligns toward his happy trail…
yet, the more you stared back at the dozens of now nearly faded marks of lipstick stains scattered all over his body—you don’t know why but you felt this peculiar feeling of…jealousy. 
was it jealousy?
geto continues to eat you out as you’re trapped in a dark bubble of your thoughts, and you whimper once you feel the soft padded tip of his nose slide all against your pussy. 
he was quite literally nose-deep, making you extra sensitive by adding a finger to rub against your soaked folds. 
his touch was fiery warm.
as you started to moderately make your lips firm. you slid your tongue out before gently rubbing it against the very underside part of his cock. gojo groans once more, face growing flustered as a hand remains at the top of your head. “such a filthy mouth,” he pants, hovering over you beside the bed.  
geto’s still eating you from behind, and he starts sucking again. passionately sucking on your throbbing neglected clit. he makes it his passion to give it all sorts of uninvited attention to feel you pulse and convulse into and against his mouth. 
gojo watches you start to vigorously shake and twitch from his best friend’s tongue, and he raises your chin up to look right at him.
mouth full and all, your tongue reaches the inner vein part of gojo’s lanky cock, he whines. 
“s-shit,” he sibilates through gritted teeth, and that’s when he started to pivot his hips a bit. gojo thrusts into your mouth — and his moans were so pretty to listen to, he was a soprano after all.
the way his voice would effortlessly pitch all because of your tongue…he grabs your head, gently, yet with just enough pressure he makes you go back and forth, he’s stuffing your throat full of his girth, full of his inches.
you’re a mess, strings of saliva pouring down your chin and he looks down at you before nervously chuckling. “look at you. what, are you trying to say something?”
and he’s just at his limit, near the edge yet is such a brat. way too much for his own good. “don’t try to talk with y-your mouth full, princess.”
abruptly, you feel that familiar rush disrupt your thinking and you suddenly tense.
geto’s tongue slithers all against that spot, deep between your folds, and giving it a good nibble before your legs nearly give out right then and there. such whirlpools, a plethora of them came crashing down all at once before you moaned, the sensation was almost too much to bare. 
“give it to me, c’mon. i wanna hear you.” geto whispers, breath wafting against your clit. glossed pink lips of his was just drenched with your slit for it’s entirety.
he merrily blows against your pussy and that was just about the last straw for you—you end up cumming, and it had your eyebrows furrowing with such pleasure. 
“pft. took me longer to make her cum when i…” gojo gruffs, the same pout still pursed against his lips as he watched you riding your orgasm off against the bassist’s tongue. 
covetously, he watches as your eyelids start to droop and you’re growing quite dumb.
geto’s tongue….the length of it, the piercing, it tickled against your wet entrance as well as having you spasming and craving for more. 
gojo takes his dick out of your mouth hastily with a cute scowl on his lips whilst geto departs from behind you. 
he has a sly grin, bringing a thumb up to the corner of his mouth before swiping your slick clean. 
“jealous, ‘toru?”
“…no,” he grouches, and he definitely was. the popstar lifts you up suddenly, and your arms wrap around his neck, still panting from your recent jaw-dropping orgasmic release. “i can still do better than you, sugupoo.”
“i told you to stop calling me that.” geto chastised, standing up also. walking towards you, he ran a hand down your back and you moaned from his touch. 
you bury your face into gojo’s neck, your own warm breath going back against your face. the pop star’s half-cut-sparkled open glove traces down your back before he slyly smiles. beads of sweat races down his forehead before the singer hums. “suguru. do ya think we can fuck her like this?”
“standing up?” the bassist murmurs, and they’re both grazing their hands all over your body. while gojo has you lifted up, your legs tightly wrap and lock around his waist like a vice before geto kisses the back of your neck, pitching his voice lower as he speaks to you. “what do you think? can you handle the two of us, pretty girl?” 
you whine against gojo’s neck, trembling from geto’s touch behind you. how gentle he was, leaning in to suck against the tenderness part of your collarbone. “yeah,” you nod, and gojo glanced down at you with a smug grin forming on his lips. “j-just hurry up. satoru should have been performing like an hour ago.”
“damn, that’s true. i kinda forgot about that,” he timidly chortles, and he raises you up in his buff arms just a bit. “oh well. heh, i mean you…you can explain it to kento for me, yeah? i know he’s my manager but fuck, he scares me. if he’s nosy just tell him i’m uh…i got athlete's foot.”
there was a long rightfully so pause and geto’s hands remained gripped against your waist. “idiot…” he mumbles. 
the moment gojo aligns himself, you intake a sharp breath — mentally preparing yourself because you were about to take not only him, but his best friend also….while standing. 
“hold on to ‘toru. i’m gonna have to stretch you just a little…” geto purrs against your ear.
you made candid eye contact with gojo and he flashes a sheepish grin before planting a kiss on the tip of your nose. 
“i stretched her already.” gojo shrugs. 
“you did a lousy fuckin’ job then.” geto snarls, and you moan, feeling the thickness of geto go right into you with simplicity.
needless to say, it was sloppy. 
your cunt squelched in utter enthusiasm as he eases his way inside of you. gojo rolls his eyes at geto’s remark, and you’re quite literally being double stuffed. they both were slow and precise with their movements and you’re just in awe, dumbfounded, stupid…
you’ve never felt so full.
both of them deep inside of you, churning up your insides at the same time. you don’t think you’ve ever been fucked like this.
not only were you being shared but doing everything while standing up—your arms pathetically wrapped around gojo’s neck, and it’s the perfect position to stare right into the pop star's eyes. 
he returns the gaze, and he grows flustered, lip quivering, ears twitching, eyebrows contorting. he was trying just as much as you to not be so loud, so vocal. yet a moan slips out, and gojo’s moans never fail to be so slutty. 
“think i can see why he’s so obsessed with you,” geto grunts, maintaining a firm grip against your hips. he’s taking you from behind with gojo occupied towards the front, each pretty glacé coated whimper that ran off past your lips grew shakier and shakier from the deep thrusts you were being given.
as you idly bounced against their dicks, you were again, stupid—brainless.
your mouth ends up partially opening as you’re moaning. your pussy gripped against each of them tightly. squeezing and clamping down against each of them to where you’re just so dizzy. 
geto’s thick and girth, meanwhile gojo’s long and lengthy…
your ears fet like they were about to pop from the sheer sudden humidity in the room the more you bobbed and jostled against them. biting your lip to conceal an incoming moan, your eyes briefly roll backward before you suddenly feel the plump mushroom-tip of gojo’s dick fully expand and reach there. 
“f-fuck, oh my g-godd,” you’d whine, rough sounds of your skin against theirs ricocheting amongst each other. such beefy bulky toned arms had you propped up in such an obscene way, you craved more. “…so deep.”
gojo leans in for a wet kiss and you kiss back, a plethora of whimpers and whines glissade right into his mouth - he swiftly swipes a tongue against yours, sloppy per usual before even he starts to moan. in such a way, you never failed to leave gojo all hot and bothered.
“you two are such sluts for each other, it’s cute..” 
as the bassist teases and pokes fun, you shudder, feeling geto press up against your ass… 
the stretch, the girth he had that made him thicker… it was mouthwateringly appetizing.
you found yourself practically drooling just from his dick, the way the curve of it hit that same repeated spots to make you grow dumber and dumber. you were starting to get so loopy from his best friend that you completely forgot gojo was in the picture for a quick second. 
geto being abutting against you, his body heat was entirely chambré—the fabric of his leather jacket, the cold frigid zippers skin against your skin and you lean back against his chest. despite all of this, gojo’s still managing to have you being fucked upright.  
your entrance was slick…damp, coated each of their cocks with your dampened arousal before your breathing starts to catch up with you. 
“s-shit, ‘m not gonna last.” gojo starts, and his body language changes a bit—you study his facial expressions, the way his lips contort into a perturbed pout. skin against skin, you radiated from their heat thoroughly before geto shakes his head with a sly scoff. 
“of course you’re not.” he snickers. 
“s-shut up, sugupoo,” he whines, hastily his head goes back. the popstar’s hair goes all over his face, long white strands occluding his view of vision and it's sexy. the way he’d become whiney out of nowhere, pressing his lips together in utter desperation. you had him a mess, whining again and again, regardless of trying to keep up a front. “she’s gonna milk me ‘n it’s all your fault..”
you throbbed from his words, and the popstar could barely keep his eyes open. he’s so sensitive, keeping you up with his arms while geto has you from the other end, geto sighs dramatically. “here he goes.”
“you both talk too much.” you mewl, clinging onto gojo’s neck. 
“no we don’t.” they both say in unison before giving each other a glare. 
geto scoffs whilst gojo pokes his lip out, focusing his attention back towards you. yet the minute gojo cums, his dick ends up slipping out of you and that’s when he becomes a stuttering mess. 
“s-shit,” he huffs, wrapping a hand around his base before repositioning it again. ropes of his cum start to seep out your cunt, geto watches and he’s speechless—you mewl, feeling geto run a thumb down your slit only to then smear gojo’s cum against your pussy. “so much to give you, even still.”
gojo starts whimpering. stretching such inches inside of you while geto pauses his movements. you felt warm, not to mention exceedingly full. 
you were stuffed, to the utmost limit…
the two took turns with you. you were treated like a rag doll if one was to be honest. it was as if stamina didn’t exist for them. positions after positions, there’d be a point where geto’s sucking against your nipples while gojo’s slamming his hips into you with the sweetest whimpers dragging out from his pretty glossed lips.
albeit, you don’t expect geto to get whiney…
but he does.
you’d be riding him, he’s laid back against the bed with his legs openly spread and clenched. a sharp jawline points forward as he faces you forward. “fuckk, your hips are so..” he’d groan, his head goes back in desireable pleasure and you lean in to bombard the inner part of his neck with sweet kisses.
gojo’s behind you, and he finds himself getting jealous and a tad bit clingy. you moan, feeling him lick a long stripe up your neck, wanting you to pay more attention to him and not his dumb best friend.
geto’s so attractive from this perspective..
you decide to be a tease, planting a kiss near the corner of his mouth—your lips meeting his revealing dimples. “gripping me s-so good,” he groans, bringing a sharp smack to your ass for ‘encouragement.’
he craved the way you grinded against him, not too fast, not too quick…just right. your hips slid from front to back, swiveling all around him to where a whine rips from his throat. “damnnn, just like that. f-fuck me, fuck megirl...”
his voice deopped a single octave, and he even brought a hand up to his face to shield his pure embarrassment.
gojo snickers before he speaks, peppering kisses against your collarbone before peering at his best friend. “awww, look at sugupoo. all that talk ‘n he’s just as whiny as i was.”
“shut up.. fuckin’ shut…up,” he groans, his nostrils flare and you lean in to kiss geto, he kisses back, and this time it’s sloppy and less passionate. it’s rougher. the instant second his lips meet yours, a low moan from geto slips out.
he pants heavily against you, breaking away for a second to breath — his hands were pinching your waist, brushing against your tender skin before he exhales out a sigh.
geto’s hair, tied into a near ponytail had a few strands poking out, scattered all against his face. he groans, feeling your clit rub against him slowly and gradually.
perfectly aligned and lined up right, he shudders once he feels your hand roam against his body, sliding a finger down a scar near the right side of his chest. 
gojo, still being sat behind you as he impatiently watched, reaches between your legs and starts to play with your pussy. you whined, feeling him start to maneuver tiny circles against your already sensitive folds before geto pulls away to breath yet again. 
a pretty sheeny web of spit coats against your chin and his as you depart from one another. your lips, and his jaw tightens. “f-fuckkk, fuck me. fuck me like that, don’t s-stop.”
he found the way you mounted him in such a good angle, it makes him ten times harder. geto’s thick cock slams in and out of you to where he’s almost tasting how swollen he was. you ploddingly thrust your hips forward before geto pulls you into his chest suddenly. 
“suguruuu.” you’d whinge, feeling him squeeze the fat of your ass.  
“fuckk,” he raps, you could be milking me all the time instead of this—this wannabe justin bieber.”
“hey…” gojo narrows his eyes, and he catches you giggling at geto’s remark. geto peeks an eye to stare at gojo before a smile goes against his lips, soley before turning his attention back towards you.
once geto’s body relaxes, he feels the pressure rising up within him to the point of his incoming release. the fiery sensations of electricity went all through. such fiery sensations piercing, he’s bouncing his thigh in an attempt to deepen his strokes inside you to make you whine yourself. 
“damn, ‘s good. s-so fuckin’ good,” he swallows, grunting once you lean in to kiss the front part of his adam’s apple. “gonna flood your pussy, you want that? want me to make a fuckin’ mess of myself?”
“y-yeah.” you breathe, nodding in contentment. “suguru please.”
geto’s vision becomes a little blurry, he’s hazy and it feels so good…your cunt’s got him on a leash.
he fell in love with the way your hips rolled against him again and again, each spank he gives your ass makes him throb. the girth he had lunging inside of you, outstretching to where it prods against your g-spot. “f-fuck.” you’d sob, slumping your head against the bassist. 
once he eventually came, it was way more than gojo. more as in you’re stuffed fuller than you thought you could ever be. you pause, huffing and puffing as your ear laid flat against his bare chest. geto aches, heavily panting himself and sweat droplets raced down his v-line. 
“i think i won,” gojo frowns, breaking the two of you up—you were practically limp, geto’s cum dripping out of you. you moaned, trying to recollect your breath but failing. 
geto leans back, giving gojo a side eye before murmuring. “just shut up..”
“aw. poor sugu’s all d—”
gojo’s voice gets rudely interrupted by the annoying screech of your ringtone. the two of them stare at the blue light, and gojo picks it up with a curious expression. 
“ooh, phone call,” and he picks it up, bringing it up to his face and raises a brow. “huh. why’s uh..” and he turns it the opposite way, “why’s fushiguro toji calling you? and heh what’s with the dumb heart by his name. isn’t he my old producer?”
geto grumbles, still silently heaving with a hand rubbing against his abdomen. “yeah, that scum who tried to take parts of our salary from that one gig we did,” and then geto darts his eyes towards you with an unreadable expression “why is he calling you?”
your stomach quite literally drops. you sat on the plump bed laid flat on your tummy. momentarily stunned for a moment. alas, you had to say something… you sat up, the phone continuing to sing in the distance before uttering. 
“toji…he’s um…he’s kind of my boyfriend.”
yeah, you were fucked. 
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angelltheninth · 2 months
Note
Saw your inbox opened and I have never touched the ask button so fast in my life lol!
May I request smut scenario for Dick x fem!reader x Jason where the boys got hit by Ivy's sex pollen and fem!reader (also a hero) being a good friend *helped* them with their problems *cough* pls? And then, at the end, maybe confession of romantic feelings between them UwU? Your choice in choosing kinks!
Srroy if my English sounds weird. It's not my native language.
This reminded of of the Harley Quinn episode but more kinky.
Pairing: Dick Grayson x Fem!Reader x Jason Todd
Tags: nsfw, smut, friends to lovers, confession, threesome, sex pollen, double creampie, friendly competition, degradation, praise, dirty talk, neediness, grinding, clit stimulation
Word count: 1.1k
A/N: Definitely not something I would ever want to happen. Nope.
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All three of you have been warned about the pheromones and their effects. This mission should have been over and done with quickly, but your recklessness made it a bit more... hard. For Dick and Jason in particular. They took the hit for you, they were the ones who were keeping you sandwiched between their hard bodies and hard cocks, Dick kissing your lips, Jason behind you, both of them grinding their hard cocks against you.
"Careless." Dick mumbled against your lips, his hand shoved down your pants and rubbing your pussy over your panties. "I'm sorry."
"I'm not." Jason laughed behind you, his gloved hands on your hips, his hips unapologetically grinding against you, "You're too sweet for this. Helping us out and all. But fuck... I can't say that I'm sorry. Just keep between us. I don't wanna see Dick's dick."
"Go fuck yourself." You sucked on his middle finger as soon as he put it up to Jason.
"Nah. She's doing a great of job of that. Aren't you sweetheart?" You groaned when Jason slapped your ass playfully. "Fuck. That was a nice sound. Sorry but I'm not waiting anymore. Unlike rule boy over there, I ain't gonna pretend I don't wanna fuck you." Jason's hands pushed his pants and your leggings down, his cock rubbing, gathering wetness between your pussy lips and smearing it across his cock. "Wet little pussy, all ready for me."
You were looking forward, into Dick's beautiful blue eyes but your hips bucked down against Jason. You were conflicted between the two men, you always were. Being with them felt good, having their attention felt good, now it was your turn to make them feel just as good.
"I can help you both." You whimpered as you pressed your lips against Dick's. "I can take both your cocks." You weren't so sure, just Jason's felt so thick, but you'd make them fit. They were the ones suffering.
"You're welcome to try." Jason was always so cocky when talking to you. He wanted to fuck you way before this. Dick on the other hand was more reserved.
His face was pink with blush, his eyes almost guilty as they looked at you. He wanted you too, but was afraid to say anything.
"It's okay. You- ah!" Before you could tell him anything Jason decided to be a jerk and push his cock inside you. "Jason, you fucking idiot." He laughed at your insult. You could call him any name under the sun as long as you kept taking his cock like you did. The fast slapping noises made it hard to focus but you forced yourself to.
You grabbed Dick's cheeks and pulled him in for a rough kiss. "I-"
"Don't apologize. If... if Jason gets to fuck me, then you should too." You tried to convey to him how much you wanted him too.
"Yeah, Dick. Come on, are you really gonna make a lady beg? Look at her!" Jason's barking laughter echoed loudly in your ears as you felt his hands grab your thighs and pull you up, your back leaning against his chest. You almost screamed at how deep his cock was hitting at this changed angle, his balls slapping against you with every thrust. "Bet you anything she's thought about this. She's squeezing so much, like a fucking slut. But if you don't want her then I'll use her up all on my own."
His words definitely got under his frienemy's skin. Dick pressed to your front, his cock pulsing over your clit, his hands slipping to your ass. "I can't. Not unless I say this." He leaned forward and ghosted his lips against yours. "I love you. I've always loved you, ever since I first saw you I wanted you."
"I love you too." His blush spread further as he rolled the tip of his cock over your clit and then pushed it against your already full pussy. "It's okay. It's okay, I'm gonna be okay." You were reassuring the two of them as much as yourself.
Jason's lips found your neck, leaving hard little kiss marks on it. Suppose you shouldn't neglect the man who was currently making your mind go blank. He sighed into your kiss, tongue pushing into your mouth with clamming force. Those kisses weren't nearly as forgiving as Dick's, Jason demanded you pay attention to him.
"You should hear it too. Jason, I- oh my god, oh fuuuu-!" You couldn't get a word in when Dick started fucking you too, two hard cock filling you at once, fighting for your attention, the pulsing, clenching wetness of your cunt. So Dick could be petty too. "Love you."
"The feeling is mutual." Of course Jason wasn't the best with words, with feelings. But he claimed to be the best at this. "Are two cock's enough for you? Or are you greedy for more? I wonder how many you could take? One. In. Every. Hole."
"Stop talking to her like that. She's not just some bitch you get to fuck." Dick growled at him and pulled you more towards him. "Come on baby. Tell him."
You wished you could deny what Jason said. Because you didn't want any cocks that weren't theirs. That was the truth. But you couldn't catch enough of a break between one cock and the other fucking your pussy. So you couldn't deny it. Jason laughed while Dick started you wide eyed and with his mouth parted in shock. His cock twitched inside you, his hold getting more and more possessive.
"I won't let them. No one else will fuck you. No one." You rarely saw him snap like this.
"Seems like she likes it. Maybe we need to make her see who she belongs to." And naturally Jason was encouraging this. Both men started fucking you faster, harder, your pussy filled to the limit and more. Your arms wrapped around Dick's shoulders to keep yourself grounded but Jason's arms still held your legs open. "We can do it inside right pretty girl? You want our cum in your pussy?"
"Y... Yes. Yes! Anything for you." You moaned, your hips moving on their own, no control or care, your mind swimming with pleasure. "I want your cum."
"Both our cum. At once." Dick repeated against your lips as he pushed in one final time, Jason giving it a few more good pumps, in and out, Dick's cum dripping down and soon joined by his, a torrent of warmth flooding your abused hole. Your vision went white, body boneless against Dick's, legs limp in Jason's hands as you shook and twitched. "Shit. Are you okay?"
"Holy..." Jason chuckled, "She came so hard she passed out." You groaned weakly, not enough strength in you to tell him to shut the hell up. "You did good." His lips pressed one side of your neck, the action soon mirrored on the other side by Dick. They kept kissing you until you were strong enough to move, to talk, to tell them you loved them both so much.
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leejenowrld · 3 months
Text
nct dream reactions — dreamies getting jealous and possessive + kissing your neck
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ot7 dream
genre smut fluff
author note this is very long and descriptive, also jaemin’s one is a teaser/spoiler for his upcoming series that i’m working on. the first part can be read here. and i’m sorry if some members are shorter than others, i struggle writing for those members and its difficult to write the same scenario seven times lol
REQUESTED? [yes☆]/[no] requests are open so pls request :) asks are open
“can you please write dreamies reaction to someone hitting on their girl and them getting jealous and possessively kissing their neck”
☆ mark lee
In the cozy studio, you find yourself in a very familiar position – comfortably resting on Mark's lap. Your head rests against his shoulder, eyes giving away the familiar heaviness that often accompanies these moments. It's an intimate setting where you tend to become sleepy, cuddling up to Mark, keeping him company as he works on his music.
"I love you, pretty girl," he whispers softly, casting occasional glances your way, a sweet grin lighting up his face at the sight of his girl nestled comfortably in his hoodie, on his lap. The warmth of your presence in his arms brings him immense joy – the soft whimpers and sniffles as sleepiness takes over, the tired hums, and the gentle tracing of your fingers along his cheek and through his hair. Each tender moment is a cherished melody that lulls him into a state of serene coziness, he loves it all.
Mark cherishes having you close; you're his muse, and your touch and presence bring him constant comfort. However, the sanctuary you've created is disrupted when other members walk into the room. The subtle huffs and sighs from Mark indicate his desire for a private moment with you, his personal space now obstructed.
As time passes, you reluctantly stand up, resisting Mark's attempt to lock you in with his arms. Engaging in casual conversation with the boys, you notice your boyfriend's grumpy and sulking demeanor. Something is wrong – he sits there with crossed arms and his tongue prodded against his cheek.
Whispering sweetly in his ear, you ask, "You okay, my love?" But he doesn't answer, and the problem becomes apparent – you're wearing short shorts. When you lean up, it reveals more than Mark is comfortable with, especially with other guys in the room not hiding the way they’re looking at you, eyes heating up at the sight of your skin on show.
His frustration stems from possessiveness. The shorts are acceptable when you're alone together, he loves spanking you or even just touching your ass. However, the presence of others triggers a protective response. The sight of them looking at his baby irritates him, and you remain blissfully naive to the stares, intensifying his annoyance.
Suddenly, he comes up behind you, his arms locking around your waist. His head finds its place in the crook of your neck, and his hot breath fans against your ear. Holding you close, he becomes a distraction while you're in the midst of a conversation with the guys. His presence causes your concentration to falter, and you notice he hasn't muttered a single word to them. The subtle act speaks volumes about his focus on you in that moment.
"Did you have to wear these shorts?" His voice unexpectedly darkens, a low and husky tone that sends a shiver down your spine as his fingers grip the flesh on your thighs.
"You always know how to drive me fucking crazy.” He tuts, the frustration evident in his voice.
“I didn’t do anything.” You whisper, ignoring the silence that falls between the boys as they look at the two of you with wide eyes yet they’re not that shocked, they expect this from you both.
He shakes his head. You know exactly what you’ve done. "You've made me hard, so get all these idiots to leave, or they'll see me arch your back against the recording desk." he demands, a possessive edge to his words.
"You dirty slut, you just want everyone to hear you, don't you?" The accusation hangs heavy in the air. "Gonna record your moans anyway so they'll hear you." Mark's threat is both intimidating and strangely thrilling.
Mark, with his sweet yet tired appearance, messy hair, and glasses, needs to let everyone know who you belong to. His exterior may look innocent, but his words reveal a different side of him, asserting his dominance and marking you as his own.
☆ renjun
It's date night, and the ambiance is set for a romantic evening. You, as always, look absolutely stunning, and Renjun can't help but admire you the entire night. As the two of you enjoy the evening, the atmosphere is filled with an intimate connection, and Renjun finds himself in awe of the fact that you're his, appreciating every moment with you.
As you're at the bar getting the bill settled, a group of guys surrounds you. You, a bit tipsy, remain oblivious to their intentions. Renjun, observing the scene, tuts disapprovingly. He understands that you like to dress up, describing yourself as a "hot slut," and he doesn't mind the attention you attract. In fact, it boosts his confidence, knowing that he's the lucky one to have you by his side. However, the questionable intentions of these guys make him uneasy, and he can't have you perceived in a way that doesn't align with his comfort.
Taking decisive action, Renjun comes up behind you, his strong arms enveloping you, and he starts planting soft, lingering kisses on your neck. This intimate gesture not only silences the surrounding flirtation but also serves as a clear reminder of who you belong to. "You're mine, okay?" he whispers into your ear, adding a touch of filth that brings a playful smile to your face. You, in turn, allow him to act this way, feeling a potent wave of arousal as he asserts his claim. The subtle display of possessiveness not only dissipates any unwanted attention but also deepens the connection between you two, reinforcing the understanding that you belong to each other in the most intimate and exclusive way.
☆ jeno
You and Jeno are having an anniversary dinner in the most exquisite restaurant, soft candlelight flickers against the sophisticated décor, casting an intimate glow that accentuates the warmth in your eyes and the subtle smile on Jeno's lips. The air is filled with a melodic blend of soft jazz, intertwining seamlessly with the shared laughter and whispered words between you two. As the aroma of delectable cuisine wafts through the air, your entwined fingers on the table reflect the connection and love you share.
You’re all dolled up, dressed to the nines. You didn't anticipate the sheer allure that Jeno would radiate. Even though he's the love of your life, the sight of him still catches you off guard with its captivating charm. He looks so fucking hot.
You can't resist the temptation to playfully rile up Jeno. You're well aware of the reactions he tends to make when he perceives others making advances towards you, and tonight, you decide to test those boundaries.
While every fiber of your being yearns to be in his bed, getting your back blown out, you find yourself seated across from him in the restaurant. Jeno holds your hand, his gaze filled with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. He’s silently giving you a warning to behave for him. That familiar, enticing smile graces his face, the one that makes you want to get under the table and suck his cock
Unable to resist the allure, you lean in, eyes locked onto his, and teasingly murmur, "Jeno, if you keep smiling like that, I’m gonna get under this table, on my knees, sucking your cock until you can't breathe."
He shakes his head, a blend of amusement and affection in his response, He appears unchanged by your words but you feel the way his hand tightens around yours. "Baby, can you please just shut up and eat your food?"
Your desire uncontained, you counter, "But I want to eat you." A subtle headshake follows, but Jeno seals the moment with a tender kiss on your hand, intensifying the throbbing ache for him.
Under different circumstances, he'd eagerly propose abandoning the date to fuck you. Yet, tonight is special – an anniversary celebration meticulously planned by Jeno. His sweetness and loving gestures throughout the evening only amplify the anticipation for what awaits later, making the entire experience all the more enchanting.
Jeno's tone takes a swift turn. He's calling you a brat, commanding you to shut up and eat, his voice growing louder as he delivers stern reprimands. Yet, you revel in the duality, the shift from scolding to endearment.
"You're my baby. Just be patient and wait, ok?” He says, alternating between compliments and firm instructions to behave. You touch him under the table which elicits a serious look, a silent acknowledgment of the enticing game you're playing.
As he heads to pay the bill, a sweet kiss and whispered promises of a night dedicated to you and what you want hang in the air. However you truly couldn’t wait a second longer. You pout, a mischievous idea forming. Spotting a group of guys who've been eyeing you all night, you shamelessly strike up a conversation.
Their suggestive comments and compliments serve as a spectacle, a carefully orchestrated act to elicit a reaction from Jeno, you’re looking back and forth and smirking when you see Jeno looking your way, a blunt and still expression on his face which only means one thing, he’s mad.
The guys around you are over the top, complimenting your appearance and making suggestive remarks about how your ass looks in the dress. You respond with a smile and nods, keeping your words to a minimum. You're just waiting for the inevitable clash with Jeno, anticipating his reaction to their bold advances.
The air hums as Jeno quietly emerges behind you, his presence sending an electric thrill down your spine. Engulfing you in a possessive back hug, he holds you tight against him, the strength in his arms making it clear that you're his and his only.
“You think you're sly, baby?” He purrs, his lips grazing the shell of your ear as his hands explore you, tracing possessive patterns on your waist. His fingers dance with a familiarity that only intensifies the heated connection between you. He knows, he knows that you’re too impatient to wait until you’re home, that you just want him to take you here and now.
Jeno's fingers navigate under your skirt, skillfully exploring your most intimate places. The sensation elicits a quiet gasp, and you instinctively bite your lip to muffle the impending moans that threaten to surface. His touch is both commanding and tender, he’s massaging your folds, his fingers slipping underneath your panties so easily. “The red thong, really?” He whispers in your ear, light and sultry voice.
Adjusting your position, he cradles your chin with his fingertips, tilting your head to meet his gaze. A soft kiss lands on your cheek before he buries his head in the crook of your neck. His softness and touchy side surprises you but you know that you have a night filled with edging to look forward to.
“You're mine. You’re all fucking mine, doll.” He asserts with a possessive edge, his hold on you tightening, as if to emphasise the unspoken claim. “I'll let them listen to you moaning my name, yeah?” Jeno teases, making the discomfort of the audience palpable. It’s so funny that he hasn’t spared them a single glance, to him, they’re not there. Guys hitting on you doesn’t scare him because you both know who’s bed you’re gonna be in every night and who’s name you’re gonna cry out. He has an undeniable confidence and assurance.
“I'll rip these clothes off you right here and now.” His voice, a seductive whisper, promises a forbidden encounter. He tilts your head to expose your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses, displaying previous marks as if to say. 'Can't they see me all over you?'
“Gonna make you feel me here.” His hands move to your waist, tracing circles over the material of your dress, his need to rip it off your body intensifying.
☆ donghyuck
The neon lights of the carnival flickered in a spectrum of colors as you and Donghyuck embarked on another one of your adventurous dates. Excitement buzzed in the air, and you reveled in the shared joy of these moments. Little did you know that this particular date would unfold in a rather unexpected way.
Donghyuck knew you’d attract the attention of other guys, as you took your time dressing up, you opted for a striking skirt that hugged your curves, accentuating every step with confidence. The fabric flowed gracefully, catching the light in a way that drew attention. Tonight, you radiated a newfound self-assurance, a glow that spoke volumes about your growing confidence.
He bites his lip. “I'm in the mood to show off my pretty girl tonight. You’re all mine.”
When Donghyuck saw you, his eyes widened with admiration. The confidence you wore was like a magnetic force, pulling him closer. He couldn't help but feel a surge of pride, knowing you were not just dressing up for others but also for yourself. As you walked together, he wrapped an arm around your waist, whispering words of appreciation for the newfound allure you brought into the night.
As you wandered through the carnival, Donghyuck's infectious laughter and playful banter made every experience even more delightful. Your affection for each other was always evident, and normally, attention from others was a non-issue. However, today, the carnival worker running a game took an unusually keen interest in you.
At first, it was amusing for Donghyuck; the way other guys were drawn to you sparked a playful gleam in his eyes. He'd lean in and whisper in your ear, "Just gonna sit back and watch him drool all over you. It's not like he can have you anyways, right? I love seeing people want what they can't have. Love that it's my pretty girl who's making all these guys fall down to their knees, but she'll only be on her knees for me."
As the attention grew, something shifted within Donghyuck. What began as a humorous observation evolved into a source of arousal for him. The possessive thrill of knowing others desired you, coupled with the knowledge that you were exclusively his, ignited a newfound intensity in his gaze. The amusement turned into a tantalizing game, and Donghyuck found himself relishing the role of the only one who could truly claim your affections
Amused by the worker's attempts to win you a stuffed animal, Donghyuck couldn't help but feel a twinge of irritation and jealousy. The worker's laughter echoed around you as he persisted, seemingly blind to Donghyuck's mounting displeasure. Not one to be outdone, Donghyuck decided to shift the dynamics.
With each futile attempt by the worker, Donghyuck became increasingly touchy, his arms wrapping around your body and holding you close to him, showering you with kisses on your face and neck. His whispered words, filled with sweetness and possessiveness, were a comforting reassurance. "You're all mine," he murmured, creating an intimate bubble around you both. “Do you think he’s gotten the hint? He’s still looking at you like he wants to rip your clothes off but I’m the only one who can do that.”
Determined to stake his claim, Donghyuck shot a piercing glare at the oblivious worker, whispering a firm declaration of your relationship. The worker, finally realising he was no match for your connection, reluctantly stepped back, allowing you and Donghyuck to continue your carnival adventure hand in hand.
☆ jaemin
You and Jaemin are currently in what you would call a situationship. It’s not particularly healthy, the lack of labels is evident of the fact that neither of you are ready for full commitment. It’s a bit toxic but the sex is good and you guys do truly care about each other and you only want happiness together. He takes care of you and your emotions. You found each other after messy and bad break ups. Your ex, Hyunjin, really broke your heart and fucked you over and you was in a very dark place for a long time until Jaemin came along, he held your hand through every second, he was with you at your lowest
So you can imagine his reaction and his attitude towards seeing you and Hyunjin happily engaging in a conversation at a party the two of you attended together. You’re smiling and the two of you seem to get along and all he’s left with is confusion. Jaemin doesn’t completely get your decision to reconcile with Hyunjin, he’s trying to understand for you. You keep trying to convince him that staying far away from drama is the only thing you want and it’s best for everyone.
Truthfully he’s not having fun at this party, especially when he catches the two of you in the distance.
He sees him talking with you, you’re unusually quiet, there's two drinks in his hand and Jaemin feels a flip switch when he realises he’s about to hand the cup over to you. He knows his intentions aren’t good, it’s not that he doesn’t trust you, he just hates him and will never understand him.
Jaemin acts swiftly, purposefully striding over with his eyes cold and fixed on Hyunjin, sending a silent warning that succeeds in its intent. Holding the other cup awkwardly, he scans the surroundings with clear annoyance, observing his ex being touchy with another man right in front of him. Without hesitation, Jaemin wraps his arms around your back, and you instantly sigh, feeling the pressure drop from your shoulders as you sink into him. Jaemin understands you well; he knows you'd rather be anywhere else but with your ex, which is precisely why he's here. His actions are solely for you, recognizing that you're too gentle and unfortunately weak to break away from your ex and go elsewhere.
“Why are you smiling so much to him, hm? Should I show him how you smile when I’m touching you up and show him how you sound when you moan my name?” He whispers in your ear, tone heavy with jealousy
“I’ve been looking for you.” You mumble, dropping your hands over his, they lay around your waist and you gently trace his rings with your fingers and the soft touch awakens something inside of him.
"You look so pretty," "you're all mine," and "can't wait to take you home." While these words bring a smile to your face, they are intentionally loud enough for your ex to hear. Jaemin takes pride in the fact that you'll be in his bed tonight, savoring the awkward tension emanating from your ex as he stands there, looking around helplessly. The clear tension and discomfort only add to Jaemin's satisfaction.
Jaemin's lips gently trail along your neck, and you can feel the warmth of his smile against your skin, prompting a giggle from you. You lean your head against his shoulder, tilting it to grin at him before connecting your lips with his.
"I missed you, pretty boy. Where did you run off to?" You ask, your words sweetening the air. He just smiles, too captivated by you and the moment to respond immediately. Initially mad at the sight of you with your ex, jealousy fading away as he hears your sweet voice and looks into your soft eyes filled with nothing but genuine emotion.
Lost in the depth of your eyes, Jaemin realizes that this is what falling feels like. The world around fades, leaving only the two of you caught in a sweet, romantic embrace.
“Let’s go home, baby girl.”
☆ chenle
In the early weeks of your relationship with Chenle, things were still in the lowkey phase. You both hadn't encountered any significant hurdles, and it seemed like smooth sailing until today. While patiently waiting in line at a cozy coffee shop, a charismatic barista initiated playful banter with you, the charming exchange marked by subtle flirtation.
Chenle, who had yet to reveal his jealous side, witnessed the barista's antics with a hearty laugh as a heart-shaped design adorned the foam of your coffee. However, when he caught onto the increasingly flirtatious vibes and realized the barista was openly hitting on his girl, a flicker of possessiveness sparked within him.
Without missing a beat, Chenle wrapped his arms around your back, creating a protective shield, and locked eyes with the flustered barista until discomfort settled in. In a low, steady voice that betrayed a hint of anger, he whispered, "Does he know I'm willing to fight for my girl? My pretty girl, you're all mine, okay? I need everyone to see that. No one else has a chance."
As the barista retreated, Chenle's protective stance lingered, and the subtle tension in the air hinted at the newfound depths of his jealousy and the lengths he was willing to go to assert that you were undeniably his.
Chenle's unexpected display of jealousy and possessiveness revealed a new side of him, one you hadn't anticipated. The intensity in his eyes and the protective aura he exuded created a tantalizing allure that you hadn't noticed before. This newfound assertiveness didn't just catch you off guard; it stirred a desire within you, making your mouth water with an excitement you hadn't experienced in your relationship. The subtle thrill of discovering this hidden facet of Chenle added an electrifying edge to your connection, leaving you curious to explore this uncharted territory together.
☆ jisung
You and Jisung decided to embrace the thrill of a karaoke night, and as you stepped onto the stage, his enthusiastic cheers and claps echoed through the venue. Despite his slightly embarrassing antics, the warmth in your heart intensified with every encouraging gesture from your number one fan.
However, the mood shifted when the playlist took an unexpected turn into the realm of romantic duets. Another guy joined you on stage, and Jisung's expression turned sour. The confident singer's rendition felt more like a serenade directed at you, and Jisung, perceptive as ever, sensed the underlying intentions.
Feeling the discomfort, Jisung decided to take matters into his own hands. Seizing the opportunity, he boldly ascended the stage, surprising you. Wrapping his arms around your back, he started showering your neck with kisses, sharing the microphone for a duet that overshadowed the initial performance.
The overly touchy and romantic display not only made the other guy visibly uneasy but also transformed the situation into a comically passionate rendition of a love ballad. Your eyes locked with Jisung's, radiating love and adoration, turning a potentially awkward moment into an entertaining and memorable karaoke night.
As the duet concluded, Jisung delivered a playful remark, "You're my girl, okay? Only I can dedicate these types of songs to you." The shared laughter that followed eased any remaining tension, leaving you both with a lighthearted and unforgettable karaoke experience.
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ohimsummer · 6 months
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ANYTHING YOU CAN DO...
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— minors dni, suguru x fem! reader (+ implied satoru x reader), virgin! reader, gojo and geto are fighting over you lol, suggestive/smut?, biting, hickeys, some dryhumping, reader is a sensitive little virgin and came in their panties, everyone is around 21-ish
the sequel: …i can do better
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Having the attention of the Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto is both a blessing and a curse.
It’s overwhelming sometimes the way they tag-team making you increasingly flustered; Suguru dropping blatant hints with that silky smooth voice of his, cascading through your ears like warm, melted caramel. And then Satoru, who can never keep his hands to himself and leaves frisky, fleeting touches on any unprotected part of your body. You’ve since realized it’s such a bad (albeit tantalizing) idea to wear those cute little camis that hug your figure so nice or, God forbid, those fuzzy, blue, cotton shorts just asking for him to pinch at the exposed skin of your thighs and ass hanging out the bottom.
The way they’d compete for your affections (even though you had more than enough to go around) was both humorous and also troublesome for your willpower. How many times would they trap you between their bodies, wandering hands creeping beneath your clothes to pinch and rub at anything they could reach because they were just so, so fucking obsessed with the way you squeal and whine when they do. And the way you can’t contain all your low, desperate moans but continue to pray that their continuous spat will drown it out. They both tug at you from either side, until sometimes Satoru will just yank you by the waist into his lap and now Suguru has to gently spread your legs and scoot closer, hooking one around his waist and caressing the other laid upon his lap. And now you’re stuttering an excuse to escape inside your room with extraordinarily soaked panties and an agonizing ache between your thighs. The two were idiots but they’re far from dumb, and you mentally curse both Geto and Gojo for playing games with your pussy the way they were.
So, yeah, though they’re both terribly awful in their own way, you think Suguru is worse than his best friend. Satoru would pin you to the wall with your wrists above your head, pull you into his embrace and kiss your temples, all because he was so blatantly obsessed with you, yes, but also just to spite Geto who would always be sitting nearby. But Suguru, Suguru was far worse. It was like he made a mission out of toying with Gojo through you. Geto gets to amuse himself with a pissed off Satoru, and he gets to privately indulge in you. Like right now.
“Sug–uru..!”, you cry into his hair, arching into his chest and pussy throbbing against the thigh tucked between your legs. It's embarrassing how just the slow drags of his tongue over your neck and collar is enough to get you riled up like this.
He hums in response but never halts his movements. Teeth graze along your skin as Geto searches for that perfect spot to leave his claim on you, all the while peppering soft kisses in his wake. One hand pulls you harder against his tense thigh, slowly massaging your sobbing cunt against his leg, while the other has a solid grip on the back of your neck. It’s taking everything in him not to fuck you right then and there, especially when you sigh so prettily and whimper Suguru’s name into his ear like it’s the only thing you know. So stunning and so needy when he gives you the slightest touch and your pussy leaves a growing stain on his dark sweats.
"Mmph, g-god-! Su- Suguru-, ah—!"
Your voice comes out a jumble of moans and whines as teeth finally sink into your skin, followed by a harsh suck along your neck. Your grip will be sure to leave those crescent marks in Geto’s shoulder blades, even through his shirt. Quivering legs squeeze around Suguru's thigh, and you feel like such a dumb dog humping his leg so hopelessly the way you are. You've only ever been touched like this in your dreams, and it feels a million times better when it's by someone like Suguru. His steady movements don’t reveal the way he’s almost falling apart at the seams. You can’t tell in your drunken haze, but if you paid the slightest bit more attention, you’d feel the solid outline of his weeping cock against your leg.
His motions remain soothing and calm, like Geto had this all planned out for ages and knows exactly what he's doing. He’d like to chalk it up to just being a pro, but really it’s because all these lewd gestures are so new to your body. You're obviously inexperienced and his touch is like a gradual, warm fire trailing over your skin; it leaves you so excited and craving for something, anything more from him.
Suguru pulls back to admire his handywork: a nice dark blemish on the sweet spot of your neck that would surely be a prominent display (unless you planned on rousing Gojo's suspicion further and wearing winter clothes in the blistering summer heat), the shivering of your limp limbs because no doubt you just came in your panties, and that adorable, blissful look on your face. He can see the faintest of perspiration forming on your skin. Eyes squeezed shut, nipples erect beneath your top, and panting like you’ve just been fucked senseless.
Suguru chuckles at the sight. Aren’t you cute? He can't wait to have his way with you, really give you something to lose your breath over.
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privitivium · 13 days
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masochist!sensitive!himbo, mean!male!reader - lovely thoughts! bad dom reader,,,,
ur huge best bro, who's very much prone to sobbing in the crook of your neck when you're "making love" to him in his bed,,,, he's too touchy... way too touchy. often - wanting to fucking hold hands and seing them back n forth like ur some kinda fucking couple??? sick.
hmm... he's your best friend! much bigger than you... a gentle giant... kindhearted - pure of heart. fucking not - good lord. there was nothing pure about him. hand dipping in-between your legs, sitting behind you. playing with your cock... before he was kneeling in-between ur thighs, mouth finding the tip of your dick and his tongue circling your leaky bulbous cockhead while you're on the game; distracted by both winning and getting head by your silly companion who often liked to give you such attention!!! is he doing good?
he must be - if you, who generally hates touching him affectionately, are shoving ur fingers in his mouth!!! pumping lewdly into his lips as though you rre fingering his ass,,, makin him taste ur remnants of cum. fingers rubbing on the flat of his tongue, making him gag and its so very obvious that you enjoy the sight with how you surge your hips deeper - is he being whorish enough for you? mmh he can - he can be even more of a whore, he promises!! constricting around ur cock, slobbering and tonguing - sucking on your digits and moaning so pitifully,,, you must like it since you havent pulled away just yet!!!
his huge hands gripping your waist, tugging you deeper into him - feeling the mess of saliva, tears, and snot on your neck. clenching your jaw as you nearly feel overstimulated at the sense - causing you to get aggressive,,,,, he always causes you to grimace in disgust in one way or another. always causing you to you push away from him, physically and emotionally; hands finding and gripping his defined shoulders, forcing him downward to lay against the bed instead of nuzzling into your neck. not wanting to make him cry harder with the command of "don't fucking touch me" - you settle for gentle teasing.
jeez, does it feel that good? you really are sensitive. grumpily enunciating as he mewls for affection, it's kinda annoying. ㅡ is it? m' m- sorryy!!! and sobbing harder while constricting around your cock and milking load after load because he just feels that good... your best bro! feels so good!!!!
you're,,,,, best friends with benefits,,,, but he calls you his boyfriend when introducing you to his gymbros when you aren't there to correct him. moron getting all fluttery and trembling with excitement as you hangout with him... calling him your best fucking bro with a tight hole you can fuck into happily. freeuse, even? like - what? you got an erection out in public and ur embarrassed? hey, it's okay, i can help make it go away lol. please? please? please? let me help, lol. please?
idiot getting hard, trained, when you call him a stupid fucking idiot in public after he drops something on accident. something you do out of affection - insults not matching your loving touches and soothing caresses. see? you can still be loving... no need to be so sensitive, man. don't fucking cry, we're in public. all because you were showing him love - true love by touching him... you didnt like to do that... you were totally coming out of ur shell!!!
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mrsbarnesblog · 6 months
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new purchase
masterlist ko-fi ao3
Mob! Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: You just got a new expensive lingerie set and decided to tease your mafia boss boyfriend with some sexy pictures.
Word count: 2.3K
Warnings: modern setting, mafia boss bucky, established relationship, nude photos, dom bucky, smut, vaginal sex, mirror sex, lingerie kink, hair-pulling, doggy style, butt slapping, dirty talk, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie.
Author's note: I'm back🥹 Tumblr blocked my account again, but thank God support replied and everything is fine now. put community labels if you don't want to end up like me lol. I'm returning to re-upload everything. thank you for the support💞💞
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As soon as the message from you popped up on Bucky’s screen, he was no longer involved in the conversation with his people, who were reporting on the situation that got a few men killed.
No, now his eyes were glued to the screen of his phone. To the photo that you sent him, to be exact. You were standing in front of the mirror in the new blue lingerie set that Bucky definitely hadn't seen before. 
“miss you, baby.” 
Bucky took a deep breath, studying every little thing in the photo—from your half-hidden smile to the soft skin of your legs and stomach—and noticing the way your boobs were perfectly sitting in that almost see-through bra. Fuck, to be right now on top of you instead of sitting here was a dream. You knew what effect you had on him and that Bucky loved your expensive lingerie, but he couldn't just leave now, right? Controlling Brooklyn was not easy, especially when some brave idiots tried to threaten him.
“please, Jamie…”
Another text message with an attached picture appeared in front of him, and his pants immediately became much tighter. Now it was from another angle. You were on the bed on your hands and knees, your spine perfectly arched to show your round ass in just a little piece of fabric that shouldn’t even be considered underwear. 
Flashbacks from all the times Bucky was holding your hips while thrusting into you from behind filled his head and he almost wanted to moan out loud. No, it was impossible to listen to whatever Peter was saying, especially when it was the first time you sent such photos.
“You better stay in this position, baby. I'm coming.” He typed quickly before suddenly getting up from his fancy leather chair, making the whole room go quiet. 
“D-did I say something wrong, boss?” Peter’s face became white. Bucky probably looked really angry right now, but only because he couldn't touch you and bury himself in your heat at that exact moment. 
“I didn't listen, Parker. I need to go; finish here without me. Steve, you're responsible.” Bucky took his jacket and stormed out of the room without another word. 
***
You were walking around the bedroom in nervousness, as if it were your first time waiting for Bucky from work. But now something was different, though. You knew that he was busy, and you hated disturbing him, but after looking in the mirror at yourself for too long, you got so confident and bold that you decided to text him with photos, which you had never done before. 
Your best friend Nat took you out shopping, but even though Bucky always gave you his card and told you to buy whatever you wanted, you never actually did it. Until you saw that unbelievably beautiful blue set. Bucky went crazy every time you had new pieces, but they weren’t as expensive as this one because you always bought them with your own money. Your friend basically shoved you into the changing room and convinced you that it cost every single penny, so you gave up and used Bucky’s black card. 
The loud noise of the slammed door came from the first floor, and you knew that your boyfriend had come home. Fuck, it has been only 15 minutes since he messaged you, and he was already there. 
You sat at the edge of the king-size bed, facing the door. And in just a few seconds, heavily breathing and slightly annoyed, Bucky stood in the door frame. If you hadn’t been dating him for almost a year now, you would’ve thought that he was angry, but the way he licked his lips and the look in his eyes while he was scanning your almost naked body told you otherwise. 
“You’re such a fucking tease, babydoll. I had an important meeting, and you just had to send me those photos, huh?” Bucky grinned at you, taking off his expensive jacket and rolling up the sleeves of the white shirt. He took small steps toward you, but you were too focused on his tattooed and veiny forearms to notice it. 
You blinked only when a soft but firm hand pressed under your chin, making you look Bucky in the eyes. The realization of how ridiculously wet you were hit you hard, and Bucky probably saw the way your cheeks blushed because his lips curled in a one-sided smirk. 
“You’re looking like the sexiest thing on the planet, but you’re blushing. God, you’re amazing, baby.” His eyes slid down your body, covered in a thin lace, and you swore that his eyes darkened within a second.
“I just thought that I became wet by just looking at your hands.” Bucky growled at your words. He took both of your hands into his, silently asking you to stand up from the bed. "Sorry for bothering you at work, I just... I don’t know.” 
“I don’t care about work as long as I can see my amazing girlfriend looking so incredible. Is this new? I know every single piece of clothing that you own; I’ve never seen this before.”
“Nat convinced me to buy this... from your card. I hope you don’t mind." Bucky chuckled at your words. 
“I told you a million times to buy whatever you wanted. My money is your money, ‘key? Now spin for me.” He lifted your hand above your head, helping you to spin around and show him every little detail of your new purchase.
The bra, which perfectly lifted your boobs, so they seemed nice and round. Matching lacy blue thongs and a garter belt that was attached to the tights sat on your waist, showing every curve of your hips. There was nothing left for imagination. You looked so soft, delicious, and sexy, but those cute little flowers all over the fabric made Bucky want to destroy you.
“So pretty, goddammit. I need you right now.” He firmly grabbed one side of your face, connecting your lips in a hot and messy kiss, while the other hand trailed its way from your neck down to your soaking wet panties. “Still can’t believe that you’re mine. The most beautiful woman on the whole fuckin’ planet.” Bucky growled into your lips, refusing to let you go. “Is that all for me? Are you so wet because of your naighty little photos or from my hands? Tell me.” Two fingers run up and down your covered folds, making you moan into Bucky’s mouth from the stimulation. 
“Both… Jamie, please. I need you.” You tried to grind your hips on his hand, but Bucky gripped your thigh and lowered his mouth onto your hot neck. 
“‘M not gonna let you get off on my hand, not today. You teased me with those sexy pictures, so I think it would be fair if I just fucked you senseless. That’s what you asked me to do anyway, right?” You just eagerly nodded, hoping that Bucky would do anything. The heat in the lower half of your stomach was almost painful, and you felt awfully empty inside, squeezing around nothing with every kiss Bucky had left on your sensitive skin. “Should I bend you over the bed? Or maybe on the floor in front of the mirror so I could see how good you feel when I fuck you?” He asked mostly himself. 
Bucky pulled away from you, admiring fresh red marks on your collarbones and neck and already knowing that you'd blame him in the morning before work. His lips were swollen and his hair was a mess, but you still bit your lip at how sexy and pretty he was. Lately, you didn’t spend much time together because of his job, and now you wanted to spend every second admiring and touching him. 
“I don’t care, Buck. I just want you, I miss you.” Your hands flew to the collar of his shirt, opening every button until his tanned chest was on full display. 
“Get on your knees and hands, doll.” Bucky mumbled, and you knew that he had lost all of his patience. 
You lowered yourself on an expensive white rug and teasinly moved your ass from side to side, looking at Bucky through the mirror. His eyes stuck on your body, and he licked his lips once again. You saw the way his pants were barely holding the hardness behind them, and your mouth instantly started watering from that thought.
“Are you going to fuck me or keep starring at my ass?” 
He smirked at your words and fell onto his knees behind you, slightly pushing his covered hips into yours and making you both moan. 
“Oh, I am going to fuck you? Don’t worry about that, doll.” The sudden slap on your ass cheek made you loudly gasp; your mouth stayed slightly open as Bucky was massaging your burning cheek with one hand and unbuckling his pants with the other. 
You felt the silky-soft skin of his cock between your legs when Bucky ran his length on your wet panties. “It’s too pretty, I don’t wanna take it off of you. ‘M just gonna push them to the side.” He took your underwear out of his way, lining the leaking tip with your wet entrance. 
You couldn’t stay steel, so Bucky had to grab your hair, raise your head, and perfectly arch your back. You whined at the slight pain from his grip, but it soon turned into a loud mixture of a moan and Bucky’s name when he pushed inside of you. 
It never failed to amaze both of you how perfect you were for each other. The sex was incredible every single time. Your body instantly adgasted for his size; your wet and soft folds gripped his cock firmly, as if your body didn’t want him ever to leave. Bucky honestly didn’t even remember the sex before you; at that time he thought it was nice, but since the first night with you, everything has become blurred, and he couldn't look at any other woman in a sexual way anymore. 
“Fuck-fuck-fuck, James!” You cried, squeezing him harder and gripping the soft material under your hands. 
“Holy shit, doll. Your pretty pussy ‘s taking me so well; she’s so greedy for my cock.” Bucky slapped your ass again at the same time as he bottomed out in you. You tried to stay focused on the reflection in the mirror, but that teasing little push of Bucky’s hips right into your g-spot made your eyes roll back. "What? You can’t handle it, baby? But that's what you asked for. You thought that you could just send me these things and not get fucked like a naughty little girl?” He chuckled, immediately increasing the speed of his thrusts. 
“I just wanted you, J-Jamie, fuck!” You cried at another slap on your ass. Red hand prints were already visible, and you knew that it would be hard to sit the next day. “I need to cum, please…”
“Already drunk with my cock?” Bucky chuckled, slightly squeezing your hair in his hand, until you opened your hooded eyes and looked at him in the mirror. “Look at you, always so perfect for me.” His blue eyes studied your reflection. Your still covered in bra tits bounced every time he pushed his cock inside of you, and Bucky felt like he became even harder because of the fact that he couldn’t see you fully naked. 
It felt like he wanted to split you in half with the power of his movements. Your skin slapped into each other, and the wet sounds of your pussy were almost too loud and inappropriate for you, but Bucky didn’t care. He moved fast and hard, mumbling praise words under his breath, which you barely understood, being too close to cum. 
“Bucky, ‘m gonna cum… Please, let me cum, ‘m so close.” You loudly moaned when your body started trembling and your hands were almost too weak to hold you up. 
“Do it, doll. I’m right behind you. Cover my cock in your cum.” Your mouth fell open, and your eyes instantly closed when you finally came, clenching around him. Bucky looked closely as your face expression changed—it was his favorite thing. 
He pushed into your tight cunt a few more times before freezing as his own orgasm came. You moaned at the feeling of his hot seed feeling you from the inside. 
“Just like that, doll. You did so well.” Bucky soothed the skin of your thigh and reddish cheek, finally loosening the grip on your hair. Your hands couldn’t hold you up anymore, and you collapsed on the soft rug with a muffled puff. 
Bucky slightly chuckled, slipping out of you, and flipped over your exhausted body so you could face him. You both were flushed and slightly sweaty. Bucky brushed your hair from your face and lowered himself to catch your lips in a slow kiss. You wrapped your arms around his strong shoulders until he fell on top of you. 
“I’ll call Nat so she can take you shopping tomorrow. Use my black card and get yourself everything that you like, because now I want to see you in every possible shade and variation of lingerie, doll.” Bucky mumbled near your ear while his hands traced the soft skin of your ribs and stomach. 
“I don’t want to spend your money, James.” You laughed. 
“Then I’ll give my card to Nat, so she can spend it on you. Because I won’t leave you alone anymore, doll. You drive me crazy looking like this.” He started kissing your neck, going lower to your chest. You just sighted, knowing damn well that there’s no point in arguing and that your amazing boyfriend would find a way to make you buy more lingerie. “Are you ready for round two? Because I really wanna put those pretty tits in my mouth.” 
Whatever you wanted to say died on your tongue with the first touch of Bucky’s wet tongue, and your brain went completely blank. 
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earthtooz · 10 months
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x : AVOIDANCE :*+゚
in which: falling for blade was not on your agenda, so naturally you decide to distance yourself. however, the last thing you'd predicted was blade being upset with the sudden space.
warnings: 2.3k wc, FLUFF, ooc!blade probably bc i'm still trying to figure it out, kafka meddles with the two of you, gn!stellaron hunter!reader who has a past lol, NOT PROOFREAD, idiots in love bc i love that trope, bad writing
a/n: thank you to the anon who gave me this idea :D much appreciated, i had a lot of fun with this one when my angstier fics were draining me af. i hope you enjoy, apologies if it's a little low quality, but it's my child &lt;3
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when you first joined the team of stellaron hunters, you didn’t expect to get much out of it, especially since the team looked so cold, calculating, mischievous, and unforgiving, greeting you with vicious smiles and muddy eyes. preemptively, you assumed the most you would receive is acquaintanceship.
however, time has proven you wrong, because on the contrary, you have found comfort, friendship, and stability in the form of this mismatched group.
you never expected to find love either.
but you did, and it might be the worst decision your heart has ever made.
“y/n, there you are. kafka and i are thinking about going out to lunch. want to join?” silver wolf’s voice interrupts your train of thought, disrupting your peace in your private spot amongst the gardens.
“oh, hi silver wolf,” you murmur, shutting your book after shoving in a bookmark. “who else is going?”
“kafka asked blade and he agreed.”
the genius hacker doesn’t notice the way you tense upon hearing a certain swordman’s name. instead, you play it cool by opening up your book again, scanning the pages in hopes of ignoring the racing of your heart.
“i think i’ll pass on this one. thank you though,” you mutter.
“really?” the silver-haired asks, popping her gum before shrugging. “whatever you say. i’m off!”
“bye!”
hearing her footsteps fade, you slump in your seat, your memories with blade hauntingly eminent in your mind. you don’t recall when you fell for him, or why exactly, all you have in your recollection is a series of moments that you look back fondly upon with a full heart, love slowly seeping in to you and causing your affections to grow to the size that they reside at now.
when you had realised, the love had already grown too big to deflate, and dejection struck moments after; a big bang of butterflies in your stomach that all disintegrated straight after.
how brutal- perhaps this was an indication that blade was rubbing off on you too much, and you need to cleanse yourself of his influence.
love, although fickle, was not something that you avidly rejected. despite having lived like a hunted deer, your experiences have been fleeting, building your delicate heart for a life of meeting, falling, then leaving when you least wanted to, needing to run before an arrow pierced you- and certainly not cupid’s one. 
but with blade, everything is different. there is no arrow to run from, not in the life that elio has foreseen for you. for the first time in your life, you can stop running away and try fall into the arms of love with little remorse.
it's just ironic that you fall into the arms of a man who should not be touched.
“y/n’s not coming with us today,” silver wolf reports after meeting up with the other two stellaron hunters.
“oh?” kafka hums, “usually y/n’s always willing to hangout, why’s that?”
“busy or something, i don’t know, i didn’t care to ask.”
the slight scrunch of displeasure in blade’s expression passes by the keen eyes of both kafka and silver wolf. if either of them had noticed then perhaps it would have been a topic of interest, but for the time being, the pair move on (faster than the third member), your unusual absence dismissed in favour of where to get food.
as the days turn into nights and elio issues more missions and mumbles more futures, blade feels as though he sees you less and less.
it’s not intuition more than it is you purposefully ignoring and evading blade in your everyday, though.
“good morning,” kafka’s voice greets when she walks in to the cafeteria, where you were eating breakfast alone. setting down your phone, you regard her with a mouth full of bread. “gross. at least swallow first.”
“screw off,” you murmur. “how did you sleep?”
“fine fine, i woke up in the wrong position though and my neck is killing me, but what about you? seems like you’ve been up a while.”
“i’ve been up since asscrack of dawn.” 
the purple-haired regards you with amusement. “why’s that?”
“body clock or whatever,” you lie, staring down at your glass of water.
“i see,” kafka hums half-heartedly, as if seeing right through you. “well, i’m going to get some coffee, i’ll be right back.”
“mk.”
you’re left on your own for only a few minutes, waiting patiently in silence for kafka to return. the morning is cool and pleasant, and the smell of rain is still heavy in the air as the morning dew lightens the atmosphere. the weather will surely get hotter as the day matures, but for now, you enjoy the gentle caress of sunlight on your back.
or rather- you were enjoying the gentle caress of the sun, but the methodicalness of it all is ruined when you spot a certain figure with dark, long hair beside kafka.
suddenly the last thing you know is peace and calm, and the abrupt, painful scraping of your chair against the floor symbolises that.
“going somewhere?” kafka asks.
picking up your scraps, you avoid blade’s gaze. “yeah! i- uh, realised that i have some documents to drop off for elio by twelve or whatever.”
“won't you stay to keep us company for breakfast,” the purple-haired tempts, “it feels like it’s been so long since we’ve spent some proper time together.”
“has it?” you laugh nervously and kafka easily picks up the pitchiness of your tone. “i’ll make it up soon, i promise, i’ve just been overflowed with things to do.”
“alright. you be off then. don’t work too hard.”
“i won’t. my head is remaining tight on my shoulders, don’t you worry!” you reassure before scrambling away, feeling like your legs could not be any slower as you retreat away from blade’s scrutinising gaze. when you round the corner, you sigh a breath of relief. 
it’s laughable and simultaneously admirable how dedicated you are about dodging every interaction possible, but for the record, you think you’re doing quite well. not that space was doing many favours for your heart, but persistence is key. 
whoever believed that distance makes the heart grow fonder just clearly didn’t try enough, because yours feels like it’s about to hammer out of your chest with how fast it is racing, and the sensation is equivalent to something like pain rather than fondness.
“i’m worried,” blade mutters, gaze lingering on where you’d just disappeared. “and why does y/n talk like i’m not right here?”
“aww, are you upset?” coos kafka, taking a seat. the swordsman mimics her.
“why wouldn’t i be? it feels like y/n has been ignoring me as of late.”
kafka hums thoughtfully, swirling her coffee cup around.
“do you know anything about that?”
“nup. nothing at all,” she answers, feigning ignorance to the many suspicions that are bubbling around in her mind. the last thing kafka is, is blind, your unusual behaviour has not bypassed her perceptive eye at all, but she believes she has uncovered the reasoning as to why; said reasoning being a certain swordsman.
the revelation is definitely interesting, and she might just be able to give the push you both need.
“y’know what, bladie? if it concerns you that much, i’d say you go check up on y/n later,” kafka suggests.
“why not you?”
“i’ll be busy, but i think some support in dire times is just what y/n needs.”
“okay. fine.”
when blade gathers the courage to check up on you, like kafka recommended, the time is nearing 5pm. the sun is beginning to cool, the animals are retreating into their nests, and the big, bad, intimidating stellaron hunter is roaming around the archives, where you’re situated to work, hoping to locate you.
it takes a few laps around to finally find your placement because you’re fast asleep, only identifiable to blade by the jacket you hung on the back of your chair.
the sight of you hunched over your desk over a multitude of forms and papers causes a wave of concern (however much he can feel) to wash over blade, and suddenly, he does something completely foreign to him: dote over someone.
gently lifting your jacket to cover your shoulders, he stills when you shift a little, your eyebrows furrowing in your sleep. deciding to leave you alone, all blade spares is one lasting look at your vulnerability before leaving. 
he wonders what it is that could be making you so frustrated. 
(if only he knew). 
a few days later, kafka confronts you about the suspicions that’s been creeping to the forefront of her mind.
“did you do something to piss a certain bladie off?” 
kafka’s saccharine voice is laced with mischief as she leans towards you, chin resting on the palm of her hand. she certainly does not miss the way you tense up at the mention of the swordsman’s name and her smirk widens when you shuffle away, subconsciously turning away, as if avoiding the subject.
“i can’t think of why i would have,” you murmur, crossing your arms. “why?”
“oh, nothing, he’s just been complaining and crying a lot recently.”
“he does that all the time.”
“so he does,” your fellow stellaron hunter hums. “except he’s mentioning your name a lot more nowadays.” 
you freeze. “what?”
“hm? did i say something peculiar?”
inhaling a deep breath, you steady yourself. you know what kafka wants out of you and you’re not going to give it to her despite how innocent and pretty she spins the web to look. after all these years together, you hope to have learnt a thing or two about how to avoid her snare.
“what is blade saying about me?” you quiz. 
she blinks at you. “why so curious if you haven’t done anything?” 
“can i not ask about something that involves my name? besides, he’s my friend, i want to know what he’s saying,” you lean against the back of the couch, trying to calm the involuntary shake in your legs. you despise that the slightest mention of blade can cause a bottomless pit to form in your stomach and it’s not because of how intimidating or threatening he is. 
no, it’s because you’ve fallen for him, hook, line, and centre.
and blade would have to die before you ever tell him.
“mostly just grumbles about wondering where you are,” kafka expands, waving her hands about to match her words. “he asked silver wolf and i if you’ve been talking to us and when we said ‘yes’, he looked pissed! when i asked why he was being a sourpuss, he just stormed off.”
“so temperamental, that man,” she sighs. then, she looks back at you with those half-lidded eyes that have always gotten her what she wants, and in this case, they’re answers. “so tell me, y/n, what did you do to our bladie to have him all riled up like this?”
“nothing. absolutely nothing.”
“are you sure?”
“positive.”
“positive?”
you avoid her curious gaze. “positive.”
“maybe i phrased the question wrong. has bladie done something to you instead?”
panic settles within you. “no,” you lie through your teeth. “he hasn’t.”
“so if i asked you why you left breakfast so abruptly that day, you wouldn’t say that it’s because of him?”
“i had work to do, kafka, you know how busy my job gets.”
“i know, i know,” she persists, “then why weren’t you in a hurry before blade arrived that morning?”
you don’t know how to refute that, letting silence speak volumes instead.
“and why did you skip out on lunch with silver wolf and i? was it because we also invited a certain someone?”
“okay! fine, you’ve got me. what do you want to know?” you explode, tossing your phone on the couch in frustration. 
“so it is about blade?” questions your coworker.
“yeah. it is.”
“what about him? did he do something to hurt you? you know he’s accidentally mean sometimes-”
“it’s not that, he’s nothing but a sweetheart.”
“so what’s the problem?”
“that is the problem! he’s just… he’s him.”
“is that bad?”
“for my heart, yes.”
“oh my- so you like him?”
you exhale exasperatedly, “don’t act like you haven’t already figured that out, kafka.”
the cheshire smile she then flashes sends shivers down your spine. for whatever reason, an oppressive feeling grows in your gut, resembling something like a warning.
“you’re right, i knew,” she flaunts. then, her gaze cuts to look behind you. “but i don’t think blade did.”
your heart lurches out of your chest with enough force to pull you off the couch and you stumble around to see that, lo and behold, blade was indeed standing in the hallway. the expression he wears tells you enough; he heard you, he knows.
kafka somehow sneaks her way out of the room, leaving you alone to deal with the face of rejection. it’s daunting being in the same space as him after so long, you almost forgot about the intimidating pressure that blade naturally exudes and projects in every space he enters.
“hi,” you start, looking away. 
he stalks over to you, footsteps soundless before stopping a feet in front of you. instead of saying something, the swordsman merely gazes down at you whilst you keep your eyes glued to the side.
“can you reject me already? the silence is kinda killing me,” you snap after a few seconds, crossing your arms protectively. 
instead of obeying to your request, blade does something completely unexpected; he very gently lifts your chin with his hand, and red eyes bore right into yours. is it odd to feel seen in your demise? because blade is looking- no, surveying you with such immense focus and clarity that your heart stills, frozen in position because it wants him to see the most picturesque part of you. 
(he sees it, but he wants to know more of you. the pretty, the ugly, the likeable, and the unwanted.)
“would you like to go on a date?” he asks.
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© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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omitea · 13 days
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𝐉𝐉𝐊! 𝐌𝐄𝐍 + 𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄
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. ft. gojo, geto, nanami, higuruma, choso & toji.
. content. fluff, ass writing, suggestive in nanami’s & geto’s. as i said, ass writing.
. note. i haven’t written in like a week and it shows….this was rushed lol. here u go lovelies, @steleir & @satorisoup. sorry it sucks. and thank u vegas for the idea in higuruma’s <3.
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☆— 𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
gojo is very open to being affectionate with you and it’s one of the things he loves the most. he wants to make sure the love he has for you is clearly visible and he proudly puts it all on display. if you were to even think about it, there has never been a time where you couldn’t remember him without a droopy lovesick smile on his face.
he finds solace in covering your adorable face in attentive kisses; referring your face to a canvas and him as the painter who admires the work of art that stands before him. he has his way with words, but also with the way he loves. and as idiotic as he seems to be, he’s just gojo satoru; a man who solemnly wants to give his all to you. and on top of that, he constantly reminds you that getting rid of him isn’t an option.
☆— 𝐆. 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔
geto doesn’t care whether it’s you taking care of him or him taking care of you. but he loves making you feel relaxed, it’s a necessity for him at this point. he gets handsy often– grabbing and touching anywhere you allow him to. so, when you asked him if he could get rid of the pain causing knots in your back, he didn’t say a word and happily complied.
he was the one who often asked you if you wanted him to massage you, but this time you asked him instead. this caused a small grin to appear on his face. his warm, yet calloused hands dug into each knot– erupting a small moan of content from your throat. he loves to let his hands travel to the plush of your ass, slowly dragging them to the inside of your thighs. feeling your legs clamp shut on them always manages to leave you two panting, bare bodies against one another as you lay under the covers. you might start thinking that geto had this planned all along.
☆— 𝐊. 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈
nanami prefers him doing the most for you instead of you for him. he truly believes you can take great care of yourself, but he gets the instinct to be the one to do that. he makes sure your freshly made breakfast is ready for when you wake up, or he cuts your fruits when you’re working from home. he does way more than that, but it’s even in the bare minimum things that he manages to show his love and gratitude.
something he also loves, but refuses to admit, is the way you crumble underneath him as soft praises escape his swollen lips while he’s deep inside you. hips thrusting slowly with concentration to make sure that even during times like these, you’re being taken care of. nanami loves in all forms, but taking care of you has slowly become his favorite thing to do.
☆— 𝐇. 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐀
higuruma loves giving you flowers. when he comes home from work and sees the shy smile that’s starting to spread on your face upon noticing them in his firm grip. he feels a slight tingle making its way up his spine. that’s what makes it more exciting for him to finish up his paperwork and just soak into the warmth of your loving home.
every week he has a new bouquet with different flowers. he knows you have a favorite, but he didn’t forget when you mentioned how you’d love to have some different colors and smells here and there. when the time comes and they’re all dried and shriveled up, he makes sure to stop by the florist the next day. higuruma is all about making you feel deserving of your favorite things.
☆— 𝐊. 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎
choso loves silently, but the affection is still present– even though it’s quiet. he does wanna hug you, give you kisses or sleep on your chest when the day finally comes to an end– but the thoughts surrounding his head makes it all the more impossible for him to ask if you’d want that.
he worries that he may come off as clingy and that maybe you want space, but you reassure him every time and tell him that you love feeling him so close. although no matter how many times you’ve told him that, the thought still lingers here and then. so, he just basks in the moment when you hold him, kiss him and do all the things he loves but is too nervous to do so. 
☆— 𝐓. 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎
toji is a lover who doesn’t feel the need to be affectionate to show his love for you. sometimes not even words, or actions that indicate you’re lovers. no, he shows it mostly through caring about you. he may come off as stand-offish to some people— sometimes even to you, but you know the feeling of love grows mutually in the depth of both of your chests.
he has his moments once in a while where he suddenly hugs you, most of them being results of him having a rough day. but when it’s about you, he manages to show that he indeed cares, even in the smallest things. as much as it hurt in the beginning of it all, you grew to accept it. and you concluded that toji loving you in his own ways is better than him not loving you at all.
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©𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐀. please refrain from stealing my works !
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starglitterz · 7 months
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♡ SPICY. // PART ONE
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❝ ‘cause i’m too spicy for your heart, ring the fire alarm! ❞ // attractive things the genshin men do
✧ feat ; al-haitham, ayato, childe, cyno, diluc, heizou, kaeya, thoma, wriothesley, xiao x gn!reader
✧ warning(s) ; fluff, suggestive, implied kamisato!reader for thoma’s, reader is shorter than ayato for his part, modern au for wriothesley, traveller!reader for xiao’s
✧ a/n ; yeah yeah i’m a slut we all know that already let’s move on 🙄 /lh i was brainrotting sm LOL i hope u guys enjoy! 
part one︱info︱part two
please reblog + leave comments ! it helps a lot w motivation <3
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✦ “are you listening?” AL-HAITHAM’s voice cuts through your messy thoughts and you scramble for your pen to scribble some nonsense and at least pretend you were concentrating. your eyes are glued to the paper in front of you, too embarrassed to meet his gaze after what you were daydreaming about him. without warning, he uses his index finger to tilt your chin up to face him with a curt “pay attention.” his green irises bore into yours, scanning them as if to discover why you haven’t been focusing and the intensity of his gaze makes heat rise to your cheeks. his actions clearly result in the opposite of the desired effect though, because it’s made you ten million times more distracted, too busy thinking about your tutor doing things that certainly aren’t academic.  
✦ there’s definitely something in the way that AYATO leans down to hear you better. it’s a simple gesture, but when he bends down to listen to what you’re saying, it proves that he’s putting in the effort to continue the conversation and is genuinely interested in your chatter. or even if it’s something like leaning against the door frame, a reminder of how idiotically tall he is, it always gets your heart beating quicker and you lose your train of thought. but maybe he isn’t as clueless as you think he is, because the smirk playing about his lips as he admires your flustered expression while you stumble over your words definitely says otherwise. 
✦ sometimes when you see CHILDE’s idiotic smirk, it takes everything in you not to punch it off his face. however, when he’s in the heat of battle, the way his lips curl just so as he lifts an eyebrow at his opponent daringly, almost as if he’s asking them “you really think you can defeat me?” you’d rather punch him with your lips. the sheer confidence he exudes as he fights, the casual manner with which he switches his bow to his hydro polearm, the easy grin dancing about his mouth – it’s incredibly attractive. 
✦ it shouldn’t be a big deal, but whenever CYNO wraps his arms around your waist from behind to pull you into his embrace, you swear your heartbeat accelerates to the speed of light. he’ll rest his chin on your shoulder too, and if he’s feeling mischievous (which is practically all the time), he’ll tilt his head ever so slightly so he’s at the perfect angle to press fleeting kisses against your neck. you can almost feel his smile against your skin as you shiver from the sensation of his warm lips. 
✦ DILUC is not one for grand public displays of affection. you don’t mind, you’re fine with it, but one day another patron at the angel’s share keeps flirting with you, and suddenly you feel the winery owner beside you, one arm snaking around your waist almost possessively. “it’s nice to meet you,” he murmurs to the other man in a tone icy enough to freeze over hell. his fingers tap a steady rhythm against your hips and you feel like his touch is branding you through the layers of fabric. it evidently gets the message across because the poor customer leaves immediately with his tail between his legs, and all DILUC does is squeeze your waist lightly and press a soft kiss on your forehead as a hint of a smug smile curves his lips. 
✦ being a genius detective and also just being really annoying are certainly not mutually exclusive, as HEIZOU continues to prove every single day. case in point; the way he’s proudly walking around the tenryou commission, the array of wine-coloured bruises you left on his neck last night blatantly out for display. the other inazumans who notice look scandalized, while kujou sara seems dangerously close to bursting a blood vessel. “heizou!” you hiss, pulling him into a secluded corner to scold him, “why didn’t you wear a scarf or something?!” the detective merely gives you his trademark grin and winks playfully, “why should i? it’s a mark of your love, i wouldn’t want to hide it~”
✦ one thing’s for certain whenever you talk to KAEYA – he will give you his undivided attention. you love that about him, but sometimes his piercing gaze is almost distracting, the varied shades of sparkling blue a stark contrast to the matte black leather of his eyepatch and often making you veer wildly off-track to whatever you’re telling him about. it only worsens when you catch his stare sometimes drifting to your lips, but he’ll shake his head as if jolting himself out of a reverie before he continues looking at you and nodding like he’s been paying attention this entire time. and if you call him out on it, he’ll just raise both hands in surrender, “sorry, babe, i can’t help it – you just look so kissable when you’re talking!”
✦ THOMA is an absolute softie, always making your favourite foods and spoiling you as the housekeeper of the kamisato clan. it makes sense that you’ve never realised just how strong he actually is. but then you catch a glimpse of him one evening after a long day’s work, and as he lifts up the edge of his shirt to wipe the glistening sweat off his face you think you could collapse. the gesture exposes his toned abdomen, muscles clenching as he lets out a soft groan, and the only coherent thought running through your mind is; why has he been hiding this the entire time?! maybe it’s time for you to switch the kamisato housekeeper uniform to a crop top… 
✦ WRIOTHESLEY is a gentleman who’ll never let you take a cab home alone, especially not after a long night out in the city. but as he’s pulling up to your house, your thoughts are definitely nowhere near appreciating how sweet he is, rather you’re admiring how close his muscled arms are to your face while his hand is on the back of your seat as he turns to check the rear mirror. from the passenger seat, you get the perfect view of his side profile, his chiseled features, the barely visible trace of stubble on his chin, his stormy gray eyes… he’s like the dark male lead of every romance manhwa. and when he catches you looking, he gives you a smile that’s almost teasing, “like what you see, beautiful?” 
✦ even though XIAO is the one who’s supposed to teleport to you whenever you call his name, you can’t help but find yourself gravitating towards him whenever he says yours. it must be how he utters it, softly, lovingly, almost reverent in his gentleness as if you’ll shatter before his eyes if he whispers it even a decibel louder. and sure, he calls you by several petnames (butterfly, dove), but the way your name slips past his lips like a prized jewel will always be your favourite. sometimes it feels as if your name is going to be worn out from how often people use it, begging you to help them with miscellaneous tasks and pushing you to exhaustion. but during those late nights at wangshu inn as you rest in his embrace, he whispers your name as if it’s a secret for just the two of you and the stars and you can’t help but think how lucky you must have been to be born with such a pretty name, created for your adeptus lover to murmur with so much affection lacing his tone. 
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GRR i lowk love this... hope yall do too! don't forget to check out part 2 when it's published as well <3
© starglitterz 2023. do not repost or modify in any way – reblog / follow if you enjoyed !
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luvsellie · 1 year
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TONIGHT YOU ARE MINE [s. neteyam]
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pairing neteyam x metkayina!fem!reader
summary fed up with his siblings stealing you away while the sun shines, neteyam decides it's best to see you during eclipse
wc 1.2k
warnings mentions of jealousy, probably littered with grammatical errors (oops)
note first actual neteyam oneshot 😋 it took me WAYYYY too long to actually finish this. i must admit i’m a bit embarrassed lol. also this is heavily inspired by this song !!
glossary yawntutsyìp (darling), skxawng (idiot), oel ngati kameie (i see you)
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neteyam wasn’t jealous. he wasn’t. he swore to both you and himself that jealousy was something he felt a lack of, always trusting in you and the relationship you both upheld. he took great pride in not having experienced the pesky emotion. but now, as he stood watching you from the shore of one of the reef’s many beaches, he was trying to force down the bitter feeling that caused his jaw to tighten and stature to straighten.
the na’vi stealing your attention away from him weren’t even strangers. neteyam felt more betrayed that you were making more time for his siblings than you were for him. he supposed he could join in on your fun, integrate himself into the smiles and laughter, but he wanted time with you and you alone. so as he turned away, gears beginning to turn in his mind, he worked out a supposed better moment to approach you.
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“there you are! i’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
your words carried a lilt to them, and you wore an exhilarated smile as you walked up to neteyam, reaching for his hand in earnest. 
“that’s funny, ‘cause i’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he replied gingerly, his lips pulling into a grin similar to yours. he took notice of the way you were practically bouncing on your heels as he began to tug you in the direction of the water.
it was just after eclipse, and you could sense that his family (or parents in particular) would be worried about him, but you didn’t question when he said, “come with me.” 
his braids fell past his shoulders as he walked, and you squeezed his hand tenderly as water started to lap at your ankles, the waves pooling around your feet. out beyond the beach, the reef glowed with bioluminescence. you had always thought it to be prettier now than when the sun touched it.
“where are we going?” you asked.
neteyam shook his head, smile refusing to feign or falter. “you’ll see, yawntutsyìp. we’re not going far, just…out.” his tone of voice was stoic, and a small part of you thought there might be more to his answer than he was letting on.
“just out,” you repeated, hyper-aware of the way his hand felt in yours. “i like the sound of that. it has been a while since we have been together. alone.”
scoffing out a laugh, neteyam nodded, stealing a glance your way as you both walked along the shoreline. “indeed it has. you’ve been spending all of your time with my brother and sisters.”
you frowned at his words, mentally recalling your activities throughout the day. much to your dismay, neteyam was right. “they’ve required my attention; their breath hold is getting longer and longer each time we practice,” is all you told him.
“yes, but i require your time too,” neteyam drawled, his face morphed into an expression of longing. he pulled you to a stop. “you’re so distant when the sun comes out. why don’t you let tsireya take over. just for a day. i miss being with you.”
lips stretching into a soft smile, you released neteyam’s hand before bringing both your palms to his freckled face. his cheeks were warm against your skin as you said, “you’re with me now. and yes, i can talk to tsireya. she will take over tomorrow’s lessons.” after a slight pause, you stepped closer to him. “there’s no need to be so jealous, ‘teyam.”
your lover rolled his eyes, large hands grabbing your wrists and pulling them from his face. his thumbs smoothed over your knuckles as he said, “i’m not jealous. just…”
“envious of your siblings?” you finished for him, a teasing smile stretching your lips.
neteyam gave you an unamused look, but you noticed the way he was biting back a grin. “you’re such a skxawng.”
“says you!” there was no point in trying to hide that some part of you found it humorous and sweet that neteyam was jealous of his siblings for ‘stealing you away.’ you found it to be quite cute.
instead of trying to find a proper rebuttal to your intended banter, neteyam only sighed and guided your hands to rest behind his nape, his own fingers finding themselves latched to your hips. your front pressed against his, and he sighed as his amber eyes met yours.
intimidated by the sudden closeness, you found your insides twisted with anxiousness. in your peripheral, you noticed the way neteyam’s tail flickered behind him. 
“what do you want to do tomorrow?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. his gaze consistently jumped to your mouth as he awaited your response.
hit by the abrupt urge to kiss him, you shook your head. “ask me when i’m not distracted by your presence, okay?”
neteyam grinned, and you caught sight of his elongated canines as he stroked the outline of your jaw with his right thumb. “when are you not distracted by my presence, yawntutsyìp?”
giving him a disgruntled look, you rolled your eyes, leaning into his touch regardless of your annoyed facade. “just shut up and kiss me, skxawng.” using the heels of your palms, you gently urged neteyam closer and pressed your lips against his, instantly losing yourself in his taste.
your mouth moved with his, fingers splaying and threading themselves into the roots of his braids. he was so close, and yet you wanted him closer, forever engraved into your skin and mind and soul. as his teeth grazed your bottom lip, you moaned quietly before pulling away. neteyam followed suit, though, and you found yourself exhaling as his mouth began to trail the column of your neck.
“neteyam,” you said, failing to steal his attention away from the marks he was branding onto your skin. “neteyam.”
he breathed heavily against your throat. “what?”
“people…” you started, mind clouded with the sensation of his warm tongue. “people will notice marks, neteyam.”
“good,” he regarded with no hesitation, placing chaste kisses on your jawline. “let them notice.”
you let out a strained whine, your eyes locked on the blazing stars above, hands sliding down to his biceps. “my parents will notice. yours will too.”
at this, neteyam finally pulled back, his gaze lidded. his head tilted ever so slightly to the left. “what is so bad about them noticing?”
exhaling through your nose, you shot him a pointed look before shifting yourself against him. you rested your forehead against his chest, squeezing your eyes shut. “there’s nothing distinctively wrong, i suppose. everything about this—about you—just makes me nervous. or, rather, excited. my mind and senses feel tuned to a hundred percent when i’m with you. i have never felt this way. i think i am scared to express whatever this is.”
neteyam’s gaze softened with understanding, leaning down to rest his chin atop your head. he embraced you tightly—to which you were quick to do the same—and he said against your hair, “i have never felt this way either.”
you pulled away, just enough to properly look at him. “oel ngati kameie, neteyam. oel ngati kameie.”
he did not hesitate to say the phrase back, his fingers splaying across the small of your back. “i see you, my love.”
neteyam let the words hang in the air, their weighted meaning bringing heaviness to your heart. and it was at this moment, as you both stood facing each other, skin against skin, that you deemed the entire sully family to be a gift from eywa herself—it had never been so clear to you than it was now.
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© luvsellie 2023 | do not repost, republish, steal, or translate !!
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mickyschumacher · 10 months
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𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄 .ೃ࿐
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𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: carlos sainz and you have an on and off relationship: full of an alluring pain. and no matter what, it seems you two always come back to one another. 𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minors DNI), infidelity, toxic relationship, reader has a vagina, unprotected sex (wrap it up like a gift!), reader slaps carlos, crying, ANGST, carlos bordering on being a sadist, cumming inside, fingering in the car, that being said - dangerous car driving, oral sex, incorrect model stuff probs, severely poorly utilised spanish, probs poorly written smut lol, probably missing plot holes but yeh
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: carlos sainz x model!fem!reader
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4k+
𝐀/𝐍: this is poorly based off taylor swift' 'style'. i hadn't realised i turned such a nice song into something well um... not nice? proof-read but as always, don't hold it against me!
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆
Before you even started your cat-and-mouse game with Carlos, you were well aware that he was trouble the moment he walked into the room.
Scratch that.
Formula One drivers were nuisances. Ask any other model on the street and they would probably agree with you.
You knew that it was a relationship you probably shouldn't even be in. He was always going to be away in a new country every other week while you were doing photoshoots and walking runways. You would barely have time with each other. You don't think that you could even label such a relationship 'long distance'.
So when your management sent you down to the infamous Monaco Grand Prix as eye-candy, how were you to deny those brown eyes constantly lingering on you, following your body as he sported a smug smile? No one would be in their right mind to not fall for a guy like Carlos.
The heated gazes, the flirty comments, the burning brushes of touch... it was clear for the both of you that you had to be together.
But of course, despite knowing all of this, you couldn't help still feel a bit emotional about your relationship.
midnight
you come and pick me up, no headlights
long drive
could end in burning flames or paradise
fade into view, oh
it's been a while since i have even heard from you
Here you were. In Miami. The sun had fully set and the rare few stars you could find had taken up their night shift.
You were just leaving the office of your management after having a discussion on what photoshoots you were doing in the upcoming weeks and what events you were attending.
Chanel, Dior, Ralph Lauren, YSL, Louis Vuitton...
Brands on any other general day you would've love to talk about. But your mind was in a state of disarray after receiving a message from a certain Spaniard.
hot spanish polla (prick)
pick you up in 15, princesa (princess)
behind your office.
Even now, looking at the message again, you let out a scoff. You scrolled up, finding the last message you had sent to him. In January.
It was currently May.
Your fingers clenched around your phone as you let out a shaky sigh. Despite all the rage you felt, of course you were here, in the secluded area of your company.
You looked down at your clothes. A model life meant wearing 'fashionable' clothes. You, your manager, and your stylist often pre-agreed on the outfits you wore just for the sake of your image. Today, your stylist had dressed you in a black mini skirt and maroon sweater. You neck and ears all adorned in thin gold jewellery while you feet were hugged by a classic pair of white sneakers.
You pursed your lips. At least you looked good.
But of course this was just like Carlos. Speaking, calling, texting... all when he wanted. You knew he was in Miami. You weren't an idiot. You had all of this season's races organised into your calendar.
You were just in disbelief that Carlos had the audacity to even text you after not hearing even a word from him in almost five months.
Your ears perked up to a low rumble of a car entering the area. The headlights were off but you could still spot it's familiar features. You eyed the iconic Prancing Horse and rolled your eyes. The love and hate you had for Ferrari was unexplainable.
The car stopped in front of you and the door of the driver's seat opened. Carlos came out as if he were in slow motion.
You sucked your tongue to your lips upon eyeing his appearance. He was in a black coat, a simple white shirt that stuck to his sculpted body paired with black trousers that brought out his stupidly defined thighs. Those thighs... god, how much time had you spent on them?
and i should tell you to leave 'cause i
know exactly where it leads, but i
watch us go 'round and 'round each time
Carlos waved a hand through his hair and smiled at you. You could feel his eyes waver over you, making you suppress the innate shudder his gaze would usually send you. You couldn't let him think that everything was okay.
He opened the door to the passenger side and gestured for you to come in with an extended hand.
You folded your arms and stared at him. Were you really going to do this? Yes. Was this what you deserved after so long? A man who felt dizzy for you but wouldn't speak to you for four months? Yes and no.... yes.
Carlos narrowed his eyes, tilting his head to look at you. He knew exactly what you were thinking. "Get in the car, Y/N. Before I make you."
There was nothing threatening about his tone. In fact, even if it was, it would be an empty threat. Because at the end of the day, the both of you knew you were going to.
You internally sighed, before walking up to the open door. You turned your head to him and gave an amused huff. "As if you would, Sainz."
Carlos flashed his classic grin, the very one that had gotten you into this mess in the first place, and watched you enter his car.
By the time you had but on your seatbelt and rested your arm on the door, Carlos had finally sat next you.
"You look good, cariño (darling)," Carlos murmured, bringing your hand up to his mouth to leave a small kiss.
You clenched your jaw at the fiery tingle that sprawled across your hand. You snatched your hand away. "I know. I look good all the time," You mentioned curtly.
Were you being a bitch? A bit catty? Simply put, yes. But you thought a man who usually got what he wanted deserved some sort of catty behaviour.
"Four months, Carlos, four goddamn months... of nothing," You sighed out.
A remorseful expression fell over Carlos' face. "I know. I'm so sorry, cariño. I don't have any excuses."
You huffed once again with an irked smile, folding your arms while you looked out your window. You could think of one. But maybe it wasn't time to bring it up right now. You were tired of this game already. You would rather a false peace than the raw reality.
Your eyes peered over to him. "Long drive home?" You asked.
Carlos smiled softly at you. "As per usual."
You nodded slowly and Carlos turned the key of the car. The engine came alive and seemingly so did he as his hand naturally fell to your thigh while he reversed out.
you got that james dean daydream look in your eye
and i got that red lip classic thing that you like
and when we go crashing down, we come back every time
'cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style
you got that long hair slicked back, white t-shirt
and i got that food girl faith and a tight little skirt
and when we go crashing down, we come back every time
'cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style
Carlos could feel your eyes on him as he drove down the empty, long roads of Miami, dotted with the sparsely spaced palm trees swaying in the warm summer breeze.
Your eyes trailed over every inch of him. His hair. His eyes. His lips. His neck. His body. Every crevice. As if you were trying to print an image in your mind.
You always looked at him like that. Carlos remembered asking you about it. "What are you looking at?" He would ask.
"Just you," You would retort, "I just can't believe someone like you exists."
Carlos would chuckle and question what you meant by that. You simply said he reminded you of James Dean. Even now. His hair was slightly grown and slicked back with the heat of Miami. His entire aura was smug and intoxicating. The entire world could see Carlos Sainz as the Spanish romantic driver, but you knew that behind that warming exterior, was something dirty... troublesome in the best way, in fact.
You, god, you were the complete opposite. Y/N L/N. The good girl model. Pure. Untainted. The type of model you would see in spreads of brands right after they had a controversy because your angel aura would put anyone back in the good books. No matter how revealing your clothes were or how much skin you had on display, you were somehow still the epitome of unadulterated goodness.
There was a saying that people often associated with good girls like you. Every good girl wants a bad boy to be good just for her.
You wished that wasn't true. How desperately had you avoided all those flashy teenage popstars and actors. But here you were inevitably falling for an intoxicating Carlos Sainz. Time and time again.
so it goes
he can't keep his wild eyes on the road
You let out a shaky sigh as Carlos' hand travelled closer and closer up your inner thigh. "Carlos," You warned, eyes widening slightly as those brown eyes were planted firmly on you, taking in every little movement of yours, instead of looking at the road.
"Yes, my ñina bonita (beautiful girl)," He answered almost questioningly in a teasing tone.
"Keep your eyes on the road," You weakly mumbled.
You both watched his fingers linger up your skirt. His fingers danced across your burning skin and paused at the thin material covering your core. You sucked in a sharp breath once those fingers met your panties.
Carlos grinned at your shaking eyes and the warm dampness on his fingers. "You make it hard to look away," He confessed earnestly.
You could feel his fingers rub your pussy ever so slowly, only just grazing over that sensitive nub of yours.
"Jesus fucking christ, Carlos," You hissed out, hips bucking at his touch.
Carlos could feel his pants become incredibly tight all of a sudden. The control he had over you was so enthralling that he wanted to simply stop in the middle of the highway, grab you by yours hips and fuck the living life out of you.
What a sight that would be. You straddling his lap, soaking his trousers as your ass rested against the Ferrari symbol embedded into the steering wheel. He would make sure that the brand he represented would be covered in your cum after he was done with you.
Carlos sucked in a sharp breath. "Jesus fucking christ, indeed, cariño," He managed to get out, blinking hard at the road in front of him.
He watched out of his peripheral vision as your head fell back against while his thick fingers pushed past your panties and slid against your drenched folds.
His fingers ventured and craved a journey, feeling each crevice of your pussy. Carlos thrusted his fingers into your warm walls, briefly watching you envelope him entirely.
"Fuck, Carlos," You moaned out, hand instinctively reaching out to covers his. You couldn't tell if you wanted him to stop in this horny haze or push him in even further.
It must have been the latter as you could feel his fingers delve further into you. Carlos let out a strangled moan, foot pressing further on the accelerator. He needed to get you home as fast he could.
takes me home
the lights are off, he's taking off his coat
i say "i heard, oh, that you've been out and about with some other girl"
he says, "what you heard is true
but i can't stop thinking 'bout you and i"
i said, "i've been there too a few times."
By the time you had reached home and got to your bedroom, the entire of your house remained living in the darkness you had found it in.
Carlos and you didn't need lights. If there was anything he was purely confident about, other than his driving of course, it was your body. He knew it like he knew those race tracks. Every curve. The distance from your breasts to your pussy. How long it would take you to cum. He knew it all.
Carlos shrugged off his coat somewhere onto your floor, needing a release from the heat surging through his body. Your shoes and socks he had pulled off in a haste as well.
His lips had found yours as his hands roamed your back, pulling him closer to you. His fingers snuck past the hem of your shirt, brushing your bare skin while reaching up your torso to find a neat surprise.
"No bra," Carlos' hoarse voiced queried with the sound of a smirk playing at his lips. At least thats what you could assume in the dark.
Carlos inched you towards your bed as if it was a second nature to him.
The soft silk sheets he had bought you last year consumed the both of you as his fingers brushed past your nipple.
You released yourself from this kiss at the action, gasping for the air that Carlos had taken from you.
"I heard you were with some other girl. Is this what you did with her?" You finally asked, feeling a small smirk grow onto your face despite the annoyance running through your body.
You could feel Carlos stop moving, probably boring those beautiful brown eyes of his into you.
He knew what you were talking about. February. Pre-testing season. The drivers, some staff and their partners had gotten together to celebrate the upcoming season.
Lando, like the photo lover he was, had decided to document the night with his camera and post it to his Instagram dedicated to photos, lando.jpg.
You had clicked on it a few hours later, deciding to see how much fun they were having while you were doing a photoshoot with Kim Jones. Pictures of Charles dancing terribly with Max had made you laugh. Carmen looking concerned for George's wellbeing as he took shots had made you laugh even harder. There was also a photo of Alex and Lily being the cute paddock couple they were while Carlos was drunkly looking into the camera
But then your fingers stopped on particular photo of Carlos.
He looked good, you could not deny him that. Flushed skin, hazed eyes, the perfect smile... all while dressed as the Madrid's richest.
But lo and behold, that wasn't the only thing getting your attention. Instead, it was the girl in his arms. The same girl who in the next few photos had her lips on him and his hands on her ass. You could even spot a fresh hickey that wasn't on her neck in the previous photo.
God, the comments and tweets were coming in at lightning speed.
user55: who's the girl? i thought carlos was with y/n?
user04: maybe they broke up?
user16: wasn't just with her for new years? jfc, that man needs to get a grip
mickyschumacher: y/n deserves better than this
user44: i wonder if she knows?
Quite soon after, Lando had taken down the post, apologising to you profusely. You reassured him it was okay, even though deep down you were exhausted of this.
Not only had Carlos been going around with another girl, but he didn't even have the decency to say sorry. He would rather say nothing.
Carlos didn't know what was worse. His growing guilt or the fact that your reaction was making him harder.
His fingers skimmed across your swollen lips. "Obviously what you saw was true. But the thing is... I can't stop thinking about you and I, princesa. You consume me for every second of the day. Even if I don't show it. Fuck, I have a ritual before every race, you know? To cum to your name... to your body."
Was is it a poor excuse? Yes. It didn't even explain why he had done it in the first place. But the most damning thing was, you didn't care. Or you could care less to begin with.
Instead you were turned on. The pool in your panties had gotten even bigger as you released a light moan at his words. Your hands travelled to his waist, peeling off his white shirt while he raised his arms. The combination of your body heat was so high that it could almost be considered unsafe for the average human.
"You're a lucky man, Sainz. I can't stop thinking about you too."
Carlos could only let out a moan at your words, removing your sweater before bringing his lips to your nipples, dividing his attention to them equally. His hands were busy unbuckling his belt and taking off his trousers.
Your hand reached into his long hair, gripping the locks tightly as he moaned against your breasts. You could hear the clink and thud of his belt and pants hitting the floor as he pushed up your skirt, unbothered to take it off.
In face, these mini skirts were going to be the death of Carlos. He loved them on you. It wasn't just the easy access to the heaven down there. But if he had to explain it, it was the way they rested on your thighs. Laying there simply, not doing anything but creating a monster in him.
Carlos pushed your panties to the side, plunging his fingers into you without any warning. He could feel you arch your back and push your head into the bed while you writhed under his touch.
"Fucking hell," You swore, clenching your thighs around his hands.
Carlos chuckled. "Such a dirty mouth, princesa," He stated before speeding up his pace.
Your loud moans echoed within your empty house. Your hips bucked into his hand, fucking yourself faster on him to chase the release he had built up in the pit of your stomach.
"You wanna cum, Y/N? Hmm? Tell me?"
The sweat was building up on your skin as Carlos had added his thumb over your clit. He rubbed his thumb briefly in slow circles but he had given up on the teasing. He wanted you to squirm in his hands because that's how much pleasure you were receiving. He flicked the nub in fast motions, dropping his warm spit into your hot folds.
"Holy–Carlos!"
Carlos smirked at the ironic combination of words following out of your mouth. Yes, he was holy. But if he was that divine, you were no angel. You were a sin. A goddess. A she-devil.
"I would love to watch you cum, princesa. I really would. But my cock is begging for you, hmm? I think your pussy deserves some attention that isn't my fingers, no?"
Carlos had stopped moving his hand and removed his fingers from you. He could feel you shake in his hold. From anger or pleasure, he wasn't sure. All he knew was that he had left you begging for more.
Although it must've been anger.
Because almost immediately, he had heard it before he felt it. The sharp whack of the air. The burn on his cheek almost sizzling.
You could feel his hot gaze pierce through you as your chest heaved up and down in frustration. "You're a little shit, Carlos," You groaned. "Sorry, no. What was it in Spanish? Polla? Yes, fucking polla."
The room had turned eerie in seconds. Carlos' silence had started to worry you. You could still feel his gaze and hear his laboured breathing but he was saying nothing.
Suddenly you felt his hands wrap around your waist and move to his lap. You let out a gasp at the bare cock you had been placed upon and the sloppy lips resting near your ear.
"I think I need to fuck the nice back into you, princesa, no? Maybe if you become my little divine goddess, I'll let you cum, hmm? What do you think?" Carlos' whisper was hot and heavy in your ear. "Use your words, mi amor (my love)".
Goddamn it. He had broken out the 'mi amor'. The only thing that had you hanging by a thread. The sliver of hope that whatever you and Carlos had going on was more than this. That you truly loved one another.
"Yes, Carlos," You said, bringing a gentle peck to his lips.
You could feel him smile against your lips. "There's my good girl.''
Carlos pushed your panties aside, assured that you were stretched out and wet enough by his fingers. He grabbed his cock and was overcome with a shudder when rubbing the tip of his cock through your folds.
"Spit, cariño," His voice commanded.
You gathered all the saliva that had easily accumulated after salivating for this man and let the warm fluid fall from your lips.
Carlos couldn't see but he could just imagine if the lights were on. The bubbled liquid falling from those pretty lips of yours, turning into thin strings as they had perfectly landed on the slit of his cock.
He didn't even have to say anything as your nimble fingers rubbed your saliva over his shaft. You could hear his heavy breaths in the air and a small sigh of pleasure came from his lips. "Baby, let's get me in you, hmm?"
You let out a small whimper at his words before releasing a strangled moan as you pushed his cock into your pussy. You could feel each swollen and puffed out fold take him in and your warm walls wrapping around him tightly.
Carlos shut his eyes tightly. "Mierda (shit). You feel so good, princesa," He groaned, lifting his hips up.
You moaned in agreement, throwing your hands around his neck as he thrusted in and out of you.
The concept that cock could made a person dumb often sounded strange. But with Carlos, it was true. You couldn't do anything or say anything but moan in pleasure.
"Lamp. I need to see your face, princesa," Carlos muttered out in awkward pauses, rutting his hips against you in an angle that almost made it impossible for you stretch your arm out and turn on the lamp.
A yellow illuminated the room and finally, you could see each other.
You had made eye contact with Carlos. His eyes bore into you while his mouth was agape as if he was constantly ready to moan. His normally slicked hair was now tousled courtesy of your fingers.
Jesus, was he a sight to behold.
But Carlos didn't think any less of you. God, how were you even real? Your skin was flushed, hair sticking out in every direction, sweat and traces of your wetness across your body and your eyes: dazed with lust and bordering on the edge of being fucked out.
But most especially, those goddamn lips of yours. They were painted with red when Carlos had first picked you up. The red had faded, only trace amounts left mixed with the red flush of the swelling he had brought by kissing you. What a vision you were.
Your eyes flickered to the specifically red cheek that faced you. God, this man knew how to make you feel for anything. His hips jerked into you, pushing his cock deeper as every second passed. The spell he had on you was serious; dangerous.
You could feel a glaze of water fall over your eyes as your fingers brushed his reddened cheek. His skin was still warm from your slap. Carlos shivered at your touch, eyes fluttering shut.
"I'm sorry, Carlos," You murmured out so quietly that if he wasn't listening so intently, he would've missed it. "I didn't mean to."
Carlos could feel his heart pace as you softly kissed the burning skin of his. It was as if you were kissing his pain away. A warm tear from your eyes had fallen onto his cheek, making his heart melt.
Carlos could feel himself tighten at the action, even more so when you clenched your walls tightly around him.
"You think you deserve to cum, mi princesa?" Carlos queried, wrapping his hand around your jaw and making you turn to face him. His eyes shook at your teary eyed gaze. The mascara and eyeliner you wore had broken down. If he hadn't felt so soft for you, he would've teased you and said you looked like a racoon.
Carlos could feel you start to shake as you buried your nails into his skin. To his surprise, you shook your head no. You begun to slow your pace and clench around him, only trying to get him off.
"Oh mi amor, mi ñina bonita, you deserve to cum. You deserve a lot more than you know," Carlos whispered, tucking your hair behind your ear. He planted a soft kiss to your forehead before bringing his thumb to your clit, rubbing hard and increasing the speed of his cock thrusting in and out of you.
You couldn't help but let out a sob mixed with both pleasure and sadness. A wave of euphoria convulsed within your body as Carlos staggered to a halt in you. His cock twitched and throbbed, spilling his hot cum into your walls.
You bought Carlos into a tight hug, pushing yourself further onto his cock, making him groan again and release a few more ropes of his cum into you.
Carlos brought his lips to your shoulders and left a small trail of kisses as the two of you calmed down.
The double meaning to his words had thrown you off.
You could tell what he meant.
This why he had reached out in the first place.
His guilty glances. The poor excuses.
This was the last time.
Whatever this was between you... it had to end.
You both needed to move on.
But especially you.
It was a gutting feeling to know. But Carlos was right. This sadness, this anger, this toxicity could go on no longer. Despite being heartsick, you were happy though.
Because even if this ended, you had gone out in style.
𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄
© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑
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glitter-epoch · 2 months
Note
Hiii, always love to see people obsessing over love and deepspace (bc I'm addicted too), can I please request zayne fic about his hands and fingers? Can be suggestive, can be pure smut, up to you lol, ok thanks byee
HIII yes i can!!! i can't believe my first request is a zayne's hands request this feels like a gift. thank you for requesting i hope you like!!!
[ there’s a part 2 now :) ] ☄. *. ⋆ gn! reader | 2.8k words | suggestive, not smut | zayne gives reader stitches but it's deliberately not described in detail/no mentions of needles/blood
“my lunch break ends in fifteen minutes,” zayne had said, staring past your head in thought. “it would be a waste of time to check you in.” 
you stood there in the bustling lobby of akso hospital, one paper-towel-bound hand pressed to the sliced skin over your hipbone, and waited. surely he wasn’t telling you to just leave. you were only friends, so it’s not like he had an obligation to you; but he was your primary care doctor, and...
and. there was, is, an and. you’re not sure what exactly to call it, and zayne is so adonis-like you’re embarrassed to even suggest he might like you.  
“i’m sorry,” you said in earnest, a little surprised by his usual coldness that you’d arrogantly assumed would thaw upon seeing your injury. “i didn’t mean for you to drop everything for me. i should have gone to an urgent care, or something, i just thought since you’re here...” 
zayne looked down from the spot over your head, clearly removed from his pensive mood. his intention to argue with you was clear, but he held his tongue stonily until you finished your rambling. 
“no,” he replied. “you should never go to another doctor. i was just thinking.” 
you blushed like an idiot. “ever?” you mocked. 
“mm,” he murmured, back to thinking again. he brought his forearm to circle the small of your back, not touching, and motioned you forward. “come with me.” 
and now, here you are: sitting on the grey sofa in front of the wall-length window, early afternoon light bleeding white all over zayne’s office. for a few moments, he’s left you alone to gather materials, and you relish in what feels like a small victory. 
i’ve been personally invited to the office.  
not like it’s the first time, though.  
zayne returns with a small kit swallowed by the size of his pale hands; the sleeves of his button-down pinned up to his elbows. you shift, balancing your weight unnaturally on one leg. His eyes snag on you as he grabs his glasses from his desk (far taller than the tabletop, he must lean down to grab those, too). 
“lay down,” zayne commands.  
you blink, glancing around to try to figure out the most convenient position to get into for him to work. by the time he’s come over and sat down on the glass table in front of you, you’re still sitting up. 
“you can put your head on the armrest and your feet that way,” he nods, not a hint of impatience in his deep voice. “i can see you squirming. when you sit up like you are, you’re putting pressure on the wound. it must hurt.” 
“i haven’t even shown you the wound,” you retort, not sure why you’re arguing so much- and swallowing a wince as you turn to prop your head up on the side of the sofa.  
“i see your handywork,” zayne replies. he pulls on a pair of blue latex gloves and they snap quietly against his wrists. he’s clearly careful not to let the noise be too loud. “hm.” 
you frown in place of a (shameful) gulp at the sight of the gloves hugging his hands.  
“is this bad?” you ask. “i’m sorry. i tried not to mess with it too much.” 
zayne pieces through the small kit on the table beside him. even his rummaging is succinct; long fingers deftly parsing through the stack of metal utensils inside. he comes up with two sets of narrow pliers and a cotton round.  
he passes the pliers through his fingers like pencils, balancing them between his knuckles, and pours a solvent that looks like lens cleaner onto the cotton pad. 
“not bad,” he says, eyes on the pliers as he polishes them. “the paper towel is fine. but you got it wet beforehand.” 
“and that’s bad?” 
“you’ll be alright,” he murmurs- or maybe he always sounds like that- and discards the cotton round. the corners of his lips just barely curl. “you won’t die, i suppose.” 
“well, i’d hope not. it’s just a cut.” 
“and what did you do this time?” zayne demands softly, fishing in the kit for what you now realize will be sutures.  
“i had an assignment with xavier and failed to climb a fence.” 
“you impaled yourself, then,” he remarks coldly. “and xavier.” 
he sets a roll of sterile surgical threads on a wider cotton pad and turns his eyes to your midriff, which is still mostly covered by your shirt; wound hiding beneath it.  
“xavier, yeah,” you inhale deeply, mentally preparing for the stitches. “my partner. i’ve mentioned him, i think.” 
“yes, you have,” zayne says. his voice is strained. then he inhales, a whole breath through his nose, mouth closed in stoic secrecy; and nods to your hips. “lift your shirt, please.” 
you’re grateful that he’s given you a task and you don’t have to look him in his eyes after that tiny display of disdain (for your partner? for your hips? hopefully the former?). But as you lift your shirt, the paper towel comes loose. 
“ouch,” you hiss. 
you realize you’re probably stressing him out.  
“it’s not bad,” you add, uncharacteristically hoarse. 
“it’s not,” zayne agrees softly, eyeing the wound with his usual cold stare. his eyes refuse to flicker above or below the cut, which rests just over the shallow ridge of your hipbone, right above the line of your trousers. “but it hurts, i'm sure.” 
you nod. “sure.” 
“sure,” he repeats, almost as if to mock you, almost as if he’s just making sure he heard you right.  
zayne busies himself preparing a cotton round of saline, and in the middle of this, says, 
“you’ll have to unbutton your pants. can you fold the waistband over?” 
your neck is suddenly clammy. “oh. yeah, sure.” 
“if you can’t fold them down far enough, you’ll have to take them off.” 
your eyes blow out like glass. 
zayne, whom you suspected might have been deliberately extending the length of his cotton-round-preparing, is surprisingly the one to smile first. almost wickedly. “i would get you a cover, of course.” 
“oh, how nice of you.” 
he laughs barely, an exhale from his nose. you unbutton your trousers, fabric shifting against metal.  
he inhales at the sound. 
the blue latex over his knuckles catches light from the windows. you watch moments later as he threads the sutures, fascinated by how efficient his hands are. they’re longer than they are wide, and slender, not bear-like; but big nonetheless. and yet his fingers move like knitting needles, never missing a beat, never shaking. “would you like to do it yourself?” zayne asks suddenly. 
his voice is like a hum, always vibrating in his chest. 
you bristle. “god, no.” 
“then why are you staring?”  
you’re hoping he won’t finish on that very word, but he does, and he looks at you with his usual resolve of steel. you decide that no answer is the only good answer, and instead say, 
“okay. good luck. don’t mess up, please.” 
he chuckles and leans over you, the breadth of his sharp shoulders blocking the sun. “i never mess up.”   
the words ‘mess’ and ‘up,’ are foreign on his tongue, like he’d never refer to a mistake so casually, like he’s never made one in his life. he probably hasn’t, you think. 
zayne lifts up the cotton round, which is practically the size of a pea in his hand. “i’m going to clean around it. the solution may sting, but not much. it will be over fast.” 
you nod. “sure.” 
he chuckles again. “sure,” he hums, and then, before he presses down, “here.” 
he swipes the cotton round over your hipbone, startlingly light. goosebumps rise instantly on your flesh. his fingers are icy, even through the gloves; they radiate cold like a lamp radiates heat.  
zayne is kind enough not to mention your instant squirming and moves quickly to start the sutures. 
“this will be fast, too,” he says, looking unwaveringly into your eyes. like he’s trying to will the fear out of you. “not as fast as that, but faster than you’d imagine.” 
you nod. “sure.” 
“there it is again,” he smiles. “sure.” 
you grin incredulously. “i don’t know what else to say. you’re about to stab me.” 
his smile is thin and almost prideful as he grabs his glasses and slips them on. he leans over your hips, then looks up at you; pushing them up the bridge of his nose. 
“aren’t you glad it’s me, at least, and not some stranger?” 
you’re busy inhaling and exhaling like a horse, trying to calm down. “i am glad it’s you, yes.” 
your desperation throws him and his jaw sets like a stone, adam’s-apple bobbing.  
“alright,” zayne says, nearly whispering. “now.” 
he begins the sutures. you gasp, instantly, at first through your nose and then through your mouth; which pops open unwittingly. it’s nearly a whine. 
“i know,” zayne murmurs, leaning back a tiny bit as he works; so his face is visible to you. “i’m sorry.” 
“it’s okay.” 
you bite down hard and screw your eyes shut, but all you do is flinch each time his fingers move. he stops almost instantaneously, like pulling the plug on a treadmill. 
“look at me,” zayne says, deep voice rumbling against your thigh.  
you peel one eye open and then the other. 
“i know it hurts,” he says gently. “but you can’t move. i could seriously hurt you.” 
“sorry, sorry,” you nod. “i know.” 
the pools of his eyes are clear. he’s resolute in his instructions as he speaks, every word confident. 
“breathe the entire time, through every suture. i can work while your stomach moves; i can’t work if you’re flinching away.” 
“okay.” 
his brows lift. “okay?” 
again, you nod. “okay. i’m sorry.” 
“no apologies,” zayne says. 
he presses his hand flat to the side of your belly that’s unharmed, the tips of his long fingers just barely curling around the slope of your waist. you inhale slowly at that, blinking rapidly. his hand is cool as glass.  
you panic, as if he can somehow feel the coil that winds up in your stomach; watching his fingers splayed across your navel.  
“i’m going to try again,” he says. you can feel the words all the way down to his fingertips. then his thumb moves, caressing the skin just over your waistband. “breathe.” 
well, i can’t now. 
“got it,” you grind out. 
“good,” zayne hums. “three, two, one...” 
and it starts again. you bite down, tongue taut to the roof of your mouth. 
“don’t,” zayne warns, stern as ever, but his fingers keep working. “breathe. i can see whether you’re doing it.” 
the coil in your stomach tightens. you peel your eyes open and watch him work, knuckles grazing over the soft, thin flesh that’s been revealed from behind the waistband of your trousers.  
his eyes flash away from your navel as you start to watch. moments later, you’re stunned to see how laser-focused he is, pupils never moving from your cut.  
“do you ever get nervous doing this?” you ask, apt to make the time pass faster by talking. like your mouth isn’t wet just watching him do his job. “are you nervous?” 
“no.” his reply is instant. “i’ve done this hundreds of times.” 
you’re stunned. “i would be nervous.” 
“you are nervous,” zayne murmurs. “close your eyes.” 
the ball of his wrist presses into the juncture of your hipbone.  
“no,” you gasp. too fast. 
zayne’s fingers slow, utensils suspended. he looks up at you, somehow feeling taller still. “no?” 
you shake your head. “i-i don’t like not knowing what you’re going to do next.” 
oh, sure.  
he’s stopped working at this point, watching you like a hawk. “then i’ll tell you what i’m going to do before i do it.” 
“that’s okay,” you exhale. i’m dying. 
zayne’s eyes rove over yours, not unkind, but uncaring about how visible his assessment of you is. clinical, even still. the corners of his lips curl up.  
you’re not sure how it’s possible for your stomach to drop while laying flat on your back, but it does; your ears hot as irons.  
he goes back to work without another word. you’re so embarrassed, you finally shut your eyes and let your head weigh on the armrest until he’s done. 
“alright,” zayne says. “that’s it. don’t move.” 
you keep your eyes shut, nodding. “i really can’t thank you enough, i-” 
“watch.” 
for a moment, you lay there. then you open your eyes, peering down at him, too uncertain to be shocked yet. “what?” 
zayne takes his small kit from the table and places it on your lap. you startle, blink, as he sifts through the contents of it. gloves still on.  
“this is another cleanser,” he hums, his voice uncharacteristically musical. “i’m going to clean around the sutures.” 
you stare incredulously at him. “...okay.” 
he’s not fooled by your aloofness. zayne’s right hand works slow circles with a cotton round around your cut; the other comes down flat to keep the waistband of your trousers from getting in his way. both are cold to the touch; never quite warming.  
your jaws come apart and you barely manage to stop your mouth from falling open as discards the cotton round and takes the corner of your waistband into his hand. 
he buttons your trousers; pulls the zipper up. 
you watch like a fool. then, when he’s done, and you think you’ll have to admit to what you’re thinking, he furrows his brows at your face.  
“did you cut yourself here, too?” he murmurs. 
“where?” you croak. 
zayne shakes his head and slowly peels off the gloves; letting them slide slowly off his fingers. “mm. here.” 
he reaches forward and spreads fingers to cup your temples. one thumb glides over your browbone, low enough that you can see it; four or five times before removing his kit from your hips and leaning back.  
you exhale harshly and move to sit up, wondering if you’ll be able to somehow flee the office without another word. 
“not yet,” zayne says. “lay back again. you don’t have to put your head back; just lean back.” 
and you do it, instantly, because...well, because.  
zayne pulls a rectangular gauze pad with an adhesive border from the small kit. then he leans forward- he'd be positioned between your legs, if you opened them- and pulls your shirt up once more. 
as he presses the bandage over your sutured wound, it seems like even he can’t look at you. but his usually statuesque expression is lifted with amusement, plus something more sinister.  
“you like to watch me work,” he hums. 
his fingers dip under your waistband to smooth the bandage over. 
“shut up,” you bite. 
he leans back and watches you with no further offerings- words or otherwise medically dubious practices- and looks quite pleased. his breath is ragged, though; chest lifting and caving. 
“thank you,” you exhale. your tongue darts out over your lips.  
his pupils are swollen. “sure.” 
you grin, caught off guard by the joke. it sounds ridiculous in his voice.  
“my break will be ending,” zayne says, stony as ever once again as he walks to his desk.  
you stand, smoothing your hair down like something far more scandalous just occurred than stitches. 
“what do i owe you?” you ask. this earns a genuine, icy glare. 
“nothing,” zayne replies, pulling on his white jacket and grabbing his things. “but go to the front desk before you leave. i’m going to call in a prescription ointment for you.” 
you blink at him, thrice. a little dizzy. “oh, wow. thank you.” 
as zayne strides to the door, you think he might genuinely leave you there without another word. but he takes the door handle, and, almost shy, turns over his shoulder and says, 
“i’d like to stay with you, but i can’t. i’ll be working until dinner.” 
“no, no,” you rush, stepping to meet him at the door. “i’m fine. thank you so much, for doing this. i was just thinking.” 
he still can’t look at you, but at that; zayne grins. 
“i’ll call you when i get home,” he says. then, “is that okay?” 
you swallow. “of course.” 
“i want to know how the sutures feel in a couple of hours,” he adds. 
“oh, sure,” you tease. 
his eyes darken, like darts. you’re almost afraid.  
zayne opens the door for you and waits for you to pass by, eyes full of mirth as he looks down at you. “i’m glad i could be of service.” 
he raps his fingers on a clipboard until you look away. you blush feverishly all the way down the hall at how he says ‘service.’ 
☄. *. ⋆
this is not how you do stitches nor how you sterilize utensils. anyways FIRST POST. lol. anon if you or anyone else wants a part 2 of this (nsfw) i wiiiiiill do it lmk
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grimm-writings · 1 month
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rainfall
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…ft! dazai, chuuya, fyodor x gn! reader
…tags! fluff, some hurt/comfort on dazai’s, headcanon format, rainy day off with the boys!
…wc! 308 ; 369 ; 345 = 1022 
…notes! i don’t think i’ve ever seen fluffy idiot content of fyodor. i must rectify this.
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Dazai
Dazai treasures rainy days more than anything.
“Oops sorry Kunikida, I can’t come in to work!!! Rain is just sooo heavy you know?”
The office is literally down the block he’s just not bothered
Who needs work when he has his beautiful partner?!
That’s what he whispers to you with a giggle and a grin as he nuzzles into your back.
Most times, that’s all it really comes to: a sleepy Dazai, cute compliments, and being lovingly held against your will.
Other days, it isn’t so easy.
He’s like a rock. The only notion you have that he’s awake is one of his eyes staring at the window outside, at the rain.  He doesn’t even message about his absence in advance this time – that’s up to you.
He isn’t as snuggly, but he doesn’t stop you from wrapping your arms around him and holding him.
Eating isn’t exactly something on his mind on these sort of days.  Even with that in mind, he’s always sure to quietly thank you when you hand-feed him meals.
Those days are difficult, but you make them easier.
“You have work today, right?  Don’t bother with the dishes,” Dazai calls out to you from the bedroom.  The clattering of the porcelain couldn’t exactly be hidden, you admit. Dazai sighs as you continue washing and drying.  New weight on the bed behind him makes him aware of your presence a few minutes later.  Your arms wrap around him without hesitation. “You don’t have to stay,” he says to you when the silence becomes too much for him. You merely snuggle further into his bandaged body.  “Yeah.  I want to, though.” To his own surprise, Dazai relaxes into your touch and words. “...Well.”  He smiles for the first time all day, softly, and his eyes linger up to the rainfall again.  “If you say so.”
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Chuuya
Days off are all too rare in Chuuya’s line of work.
As soon as he’s free, he’s tiredly at your side, and he is not leaving.
Seriously he is … so clingy when he’s tired.  Whether you’re shorter or taller than him, prepare for his arms to be slung over your shoulders and his face in your hair.
Mention it to him and he’s grumbling all crabby lol.
You’ll have to wake up in the mornings to his work clothes sloppily discarded throughout the hallway to your room.  He wanted to conk out STAT.
He insists he’ll pick it up later (when he’s getting dressed for work again)
Rainy days aren’t exactly anything that stops him from working, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take the opportunity to call in for a day off once in a while.  He can almost hear the smile on Mori’s face over the phone telling him to enjoy it.
He’s fairly average at cooking when he eventually does get up, maybe sometime in early afternoon.  If he’s too sleepy though?  …Yeah, keep him away from the heat.
Overall, it feels… super domestic having these free days with him.  He wouldn’t mind this every day, if the opportunity presents itself.
If you knew you’d be greeted to this, you would have woken up a little earlier to at least catch him. “Mornin’!”  Chuuya leans back against the kitchen counter, breakfast on the table between you two.  A tired smirk is on his face, proud of his cooking.  Simply dressed in his work shirt and his boxers, the look of him is just too much for you to handle right now. You walk over to give him a small peck on the cheek, thanking him gently.  As you eat, wondering what it’d be like if he could make you breakfast every morning, you glance up and point a fork at him. “After this, I want some snuggles for at least another hour.” Chuuya couldn’t stop himself from scoffing playfully at your ‘threat’, resting his chin on his palm.  “Well… I’ll see what I can do.” You smile, digging back into your food.  You know he wouldn’t let you go once you’re back under covers.
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Fyodor
It all started with you judgementally asking if he even has a life outside his work.
You didn’t expect him to get so offended, but his glance over and raised eyebrow gave you all you needed to know about his answer.
The next morning, you didn’t expect to actually have him be beside you as you shake slumber off you.  He’s almost always at his computer by the time you’re up.
It’s not as if Fyodor is neglectful in any way, he’s just … a little peculiar in his habits, for lack of any nicer terms.
Before you could even ask, he’s already greeting you in a gentle voice, tacking on a sweet nickname on the end of it.
Oh.  Oh he was awake the whole time.
This is a competition to him.
You could almost sigh in disbelief.  For someone supposedly so intelligent and wise, he sure has his moments.
Rainy days with Fyodor are spent with him suggesting activities to do together, but it’s very obvious he just put “at home activities” in the search bar and clicked the first link.
You don’t remember having this many board games.  How did he do this.
The night comes to a close as Fyodor sits with you in his lap, finishing up some professionally recorded opera of sorts.  You couldn’t understand half of it, but Fyodor laughed at it a few times, so it must have been good.  His chin rests on your shoulder and you can feel his smile. “So, did I prove you wrong?” “...What, about having a life?”  You can’t help but roll your eyes.  “You sure proved something alright.” Fyodor hums, sarcasm dripping from just that single note.  “You should treat me more fairly.  I wouldn’t do this for anyone else.” You would bite back with another retort, if not for Fyodor twisting his neck so he could peck your lips before resting back against the chair. Trying to ignore the flush of your cheeks, you sigh.  “You’ll get it with practice.” “Ah, so there IS a next time.” “Shut it.”
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louloulemons-posts · 8 months
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Touchy-Feeley
Steve Harrington X Reader
Summary : Steve’s always touching you, but it’s totally platonic right?
Word count : 1.5k
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Warnings : not proofread, pure fluff, idiots in love, pining, petnames, kisses, don’t think there’s any use of Y/N or descriptors of physical features, this was written at 4am lol.
A/N : This is my first fic for Steve! I can’t believe it’s taken me this long, but I saw a tiktok and it inspired this. I hope you enjoy it 🤍
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
You and Steve had been best friends for a while now, becoming even closer after everything with the Russians at the mall went down.
You’d met through Robin, she’d dragged you into the back of Scoops begging for you help to figure out the code they’d heard.
Well that ended up in you, Robin, two kids called Dustin and Erica and strangely, king Steve Harrington.
You weren’t his biggest fan in highschool, seeing the way he treated people. People like you and Robin. That night changed everything, the way he kept all of you safe, eventhough he didn’t really know you.
After that you’d become friends, not as close as him and Robin or yourself and her, but friends no the less.
There was something else you’d learned about Steve during this time. He was someone who loved physical touch.
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
Walking into Family Video you waved over to Robin, “Hey.”
“Hey! Please tell me you bro-” Sliding her lunch across the counter she clasped her hands.
“I love you so much, did you know that?”
“Mhm. I’m using your discount, just so you know,” you spoke and walked away down the aisles to look for a movie or two.
Zoned out whilst you read the back of a case, you jumped when you felt arms wrap around you. “Sorry babe I did call you, but you must’ve not heard me.”
“Hi Steve.”
“Watcha thinking of getting?” he asked, now resting his head on your shoulder. “Not sure, this sounds interesting. It’s called Labyrinth.”
“It’s only been put back out today, it’s meant to be really good.” You hummed in acknowledgement. “Hey maybe we could watch it together?” he suggested.
Tapping your fingers on his hands that were linked around you, “Sure sounds good.”
“Great.”
He let go, but took your hand instantly, pulling you towards the counter. Rubbing his thumb against yours. Things like this had become normal to you now, it was stranger when he didn’t touch you.
Taking the VHS from you, he put it through, putting in his details so you’d get a discount. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Shush. I’ll be watching it too.”
He then pulled out his wallet and put a dollar in the till. “Steve!” you scolded.
“Shush!” Rolling your eyes playfully, you took the movie from him.
“When do you get off?” you asked.
“Like 5, gotta drop Robs home.”
“Do you wanna come over at 6:30 then? Or is that not enough time?”
“No, that’s fine. I’ll bring some snacks.”
“Great, I’ll see you later then.” Giving one last squeeze to your hand, he smiled, “See you.”
Shouting goodbye to Robin, you waved as you headed out. The shorter haired girl appeared in the doorway. Fork in her mouth she mumbled, “You’re so in love with her.”
“Shut up!”
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
The door knocked just after 6:30, quickly answering it, you smiled. Steve dressed in a yellow sweater, a bag in hand. “Hey.”
“Hi,” you smiled, letting him come in.
“So I brought candy and popcorn, and I thought we could get a pizza?” he said, as he placed the food on your kitchen counter.
“Sounds great. My mom and dad are at some reunion thing so we don’t have to share,” you laughed.
He smiled at that, you laugh. It was the most beautiful sound, making butterflies erupt in his stomach.
He knew you were going to be a big part of his life as soon as he lay his eyes on you. He didn’t think it would be in this way. He was scared of getting hurt in all honesty.
After everything that happened with Nancy, he was happy to be playboy King Steve for a while. But then he saw you smile at Robin as she teased him and Dustin in Pig-Latin and knew it was something more.
“Steve,” you voice snapped him back to reality, “lost you for a second there, you okay?” Your eyebrows furrowed in concern.
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Sorry, so do you want to order the pizza now and then watch the movie?” he asked.
You let out a laugh, “That’s what I just asked you, silly boy,” you smiled, shaking your head. “Tell you what, you take the snacks into the living room and I’ll call.”
He nodded, pecking your cheek as he walked past you. He didn’t notice how your cheeks flushed when he did. They always did. He had that affect on you.
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
With pizzas half eaten and movie playing, Steve spoke, “Come here,” he said, opening his arms up to you.
You grinned as you leaned into him, arms wrapping around you. “I missed you,” he mumbled into your hair.
“Steve you saw me this morning.”
“Too long!” he groaned.
“Well you’ve got me now,” you said, leaning up to leave a soft peck on the his jaw.
He shivered slightly at the feeling. Your eyes went back to movie, head resting on Steves chest, hearing his heart beat.
He could only hope it wasn’t too loud. He felt like it might explode, the way you kissed him could’ve killed him.
He whispered your name, “Yeah Stevie?” Now that, that could kill him. “Did you ever think we’d end up like this? Me and you?”
“Honestly, no. Not in my wildest dreams would I have imagined myself having a pizza and movie night with King Steve.”
He let out a noise of dislike at the name, “I don’t wanna be like that again.”
“You won’t be. Don’t think me or Robs would let you, or Dustin.”
“Yeah I’m stuck with the nerds now.” Letting out a scoff you pushed up off him, “You’re calling me a nerd?” your eyes were wide, in mock offence.
“Well … yeah a bit.”
“How rude! How am I a nerd?”
“Well you’re the biggest book worm I have ever met, you’re great at all school subjects-”
“Am not!”
“Are too. You love sci-fi, you’re fluent in Pig-Latin out of all things, the list goes on and on babe.”
“You’re horrible to me, you know that?”
“Ah yes, the guy who brought you this movie.”
“Using your discount!”
“How horrible, and got you pizza and snacks.”
“I’m not talking to you anymore,” you said, moving over to the over end of the couch.
“Hey come back!” he laughed, pulling on your ankle.
“No! I’m clearly too nerdy to sit next to the great King Steve,” you huffed, trying to pull out of his grip.
“I’m not King Steve.”
“Who are you then?”
“Just Steve.”
“Just Steve?”
“Mhm, and you’re just you. My favourite nerdy person ever.” You rolled your eyes. “That’s it, I come over. Give you wonderful company, feed you and you call me King Steve and roll your eyes at me.”
He got closer to you, “You called me a nerd!”
“And am I wrong?”
“I … Well if I’m a nerd you are too!”
“No!”
“Steve your best friend is a 14 year old genius.”
“Rude. Also you’re my best friend and so is Robin.”
“So a child nerd, a band nerd and a just me nerd?”
“Exactly!”
“Wow.”
He was now next to you again. “Forgive me,” he said, giving you puppy dog eyes. “Stop it!” You laughed at his pouty face.
“Not until you forgive me, I’ll do anything,” he said, wrapping his arms around you once more. “Please forgive me. You’re my favourite nerd.”
“Let me go!”
“Not until you forgive me.” He squeezed you as you tried to wriggle away. Pulling and pushing him, you were on the end of the couch and almost out of his grip.
That was until you fell on the ground, Steve following after. “Jesus are you okay?” he asked, genuinely concerned, pushing up off you.
Unable to answer as you fell into a fit of giggles, “You’re crazy,” he smiled fondly, leaning over you.
Calming yourself you met his eyes, matching his soft smile. He heart thumped against his chest, while your tummy did somersaults.
Leaning down slowly, as to give you time to stop him, but you didn’t. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t.
Soon enough his soft lips met yours, moving together, as if they were made for each other. Your hand went to the base of his neck, playing with the hairs there.
Smiling into the kiss, Steve pulled back, giving you a few more soft pecks. “I wanted to do that for so long,” he whispered.
“Then why didn’t you?”
“Because I didn’t think you liked me like that.”
“Steve have you ever seen me let someone touch me the way you do? Even Robs?”
He tried to recount a time, there’d been one occasion he’d seen Robin hug you and you not squeal pushing her away. The night at Starcourt.
“Oh.”
“Yeah oh. I’m not a touchy-feely person. But for you, I am. I love it.”
“I love it too.”
“Then don’t stop, hold my hand, hug me, kiss me.” He lent down to do just that.
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
Thank you so much for reading! Please leave any requests 🤍
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