#new writer

[rafesdaydream]

heyy, could you petty please do some heart aching angst of rafe having a girl bestfriend that reader is jealous of but rafe reassures her but then they argue and go on a break for a bit and rafe's girl bestfriend comes onto him and he's like "wtf" and then apologies to reader because he now knows reader was right about her from the beginning (sorry if this made no sense I just yearn for angst+comfort w/ rafe)

Her...

pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

blurb: you and Rafe get in a fight because of his girl best friend, Emily. Rafe finds out you were always right about her.

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, kissing

wc: 3.1k

It was always you and Rafe. High school sweethearts. Perfect for each other. The It Couple. But she was there too. Emily. Rafe’s best friend. They’d known each other since they were kids. Shared summers on Figure 8, running along the beach, and having sleepovers at Tannyhill. She was there before you were. From the outside, it may have seemed like just a friendship. But to you, it was more than that. Emily and Rafe had their own inside jokes, their own joint memories, and their own special bond. Of course, Rafe wasn’t cheating or anything. Their relationship was perfectly normal. Right? Or at least that’s what you told yourself. You trusted Rafe. 

However, it was hard not to notice the way Emily constantly lingered around him, her hand brushing his arm just one too many times. The way Rafe’s eyes always lit up when she walked into a room and stayed on her for a second too long. The way, when they were together, you just seemed… invisible. You couldn’t bring it up directly, otherwise you’d look like one of those crazy, controlling girlfriends. And what were you supposed to say? “Hey, Rafe, could you please get rid of your girl best friend, who you’ve been close to since childhood, because I’m feeling insecure.” He already opened up to very few people. What kind of girlfriend would you be if you tried to take the most important people out of his life?

You did try to bring it up subtly, though. You’d sit on his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, saying: “You’ve been spending a lot of time alone with her” or “She’s coming around a lot more, isn’t she?” Rafe would just assume you were feeling a little needy, tucking you against his chest, while keeping his eyes trained on the footie game on the TV. “You feeling alone, baby? Wanna go out somewhere tomorrow? Maybe the new restaurant downtown or that farmers market you’ve been wanting to go to?” he’d murmur while stroking your hair. 

It always made you feel like shit. It was clear Rafe cared a lot about you. Every time you’d go quiet for a second, then look up with a little smile, nodding slowly. “Yeah… that sounds good.” Rafe would kiss the top of your head while you could feel his heartbeat under your cheek. 

Now it’s been 2 hours since Rafe left to go out with Emily. You’ve been waiting, watching the minutes tick by, trying to busy yourself so you don’t seem insane. He said he’d be back home at ten. Where is he? You decide to settle on the couch with a book to distract yourself. Rafe walks in twenty minutes later. “Sorry, baby, traffic was busy,” he exhales, striding over to the couch. “What are you reading?”

“Where were you?” you blurt, seemingly out of nowhere.

Rafe seems taken aback slightly. “I was out with Emily… I told you, remember?”

“I mean… where did you go with her?” you clarify, closing your book. You don’t know why you chose today to start this, but you couldn’t deal with keeping quiet anymore. 

Rafe sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Baby, don’t start this again. Please. It’s been a long day. Let’s just go to bed.”

“I just want to know where you were-”

“Why does it matter?” he says, voice rising. 

“Because-”

“I was at a bar, okay!” His voice echoes through the house before he takes a deep, calming breath, trying to keep his cool. “I was at the bar with Emily. We had a couple of drinks. Talked a bit. And then I came home.”

The way he said it made you feel stupid for asking in the first place. They’ve been best friends for years. Gone out alone on hangout nights. And Rafe always came back to you. Why were you so worried? You gaze up at Rafe again. He looks pissed on the surface, but underneath, there’s a hint of hurt. 

“Rafe I-”

“No.” He cuts you off, voice firm like steel. “Don’t tell me you didn’t mean it because you did. You always have, haven’t you?” He laughs under his breath, but it’s hollow. 

“God, you know I thought maybe you’d grow out of it. Maybe you’d understand after all this time. That maybe-” his voice rises, before he pauses for a second. His tone is quieter now. Not soft. Just quiet. “That maybe you’d see that Emily and I are just best friends. That there is nothing else going on between us. There never has been and never will be.”

Your breathing is heavy now, a little shaky. Why did you say all of that? You knew it would lead to an argument. “I know that Rafe-”

He cuts in for the second time, bitter: “No, you don’t.” He runs a hand through his hair before continuing, “You’re just so caught up in your little fantasies, in your- in your paranoia that you can’t even see the truth anymore-”

You can’t take it anymore, finally speaking up. “She fucking wants you, Rafe! You don’t see the way she looks at you, how she lingers around, desperate-”

“She is my best friend!” He yells this time, voice echoing through the empty house, and you freeze. “Emily has always been there for me and never asked for anything. She was there before you ever came into my life! So don’t you dare talk about her like that when you don’t know me half as well as her.”

Rafe stops when he notices your eyes welling up with unshed tears, your lips trembling. He sighs, “Baby, I didn’t mean-”

“No. You did,” you bite out, throwing his own words back at him. “I don’t know you? Really Rafe? You’re acting like I haven’t been there too. Caring for you. Supporting you. Loving you.” You stare at him, trying to meet his gaze, but he’s staring at the floor now.

The next words out of his mouth are cold. Quiet. “I think we should take a break.”

You don’t move. Don’t think. Can’t. “W-what?” you manage to stutter out with a little laugh. Part of you wants to believe he’s joking. He has to be joking. Right?

When he looks at you, his eyes are firm. Unmoving. “We just… need some space. And time?”

“You want to break up? Over her? I-”

“This isn’t about her. You know that. It’s about… everything.” Rafe seems to be picking his words carefully, still not wanting to hurt you. “A break might be good for us.”

You laugh again, but this time it’s bitter. Sarcastic in a way. “Wow. Guess you have your priorities straight, huh? Good to know you’d choose her over me.” You stand up, pushing past him and rushing up the stairs. 

Rafe turns and follows you. “Baby, I’m not choosing-”

“Don’t call me that.” Your voice echoes icily down the stairs. Rafe finds you shoving some clothes into a bag. He stares, like he’s processing the weight of his words from before.

“You’re leaving now? It’s midnight.”

“I’m giving you space. You said you wanted a break,” you reply, distant now.

Rafe sighs, like you’re the one who’s being difficult. “Don’t do this. It’s late. Just-”

“Don’t tell me what to do. I’m leaving.”

Part of you wishes he would, but Rafe doesn’t stop you after that. Not when you shove past him with the duffle bag in your hair. Not when you pace down the stairs. Not when you slam the door behind you.

The cold air hits you like a rush. You feel tears starting to prickle, but push them away. Just enough to walk down the street. Thank god your childhood home was always near his. The wind is chilly, the moon shining bright as you walk down the road as fast as you can. You try your best to unlock the door carefully with the spare key under the rug, not wanting to wake your parents. Only when you are alone in your room do you finally let the tears stream.

Ugly sobs crawl their way out of you as you bury your face between your knees, whole body shaking. How did this happen?

The next day…

Rafe called Emily over, needing someone to talk to. A way to get his frustration out in a way that didn’t resort to coke or violence. She arrived with her usual perfect smile and a container of home-baked cookies, hugging Rafe tight. “I’m sorry,” she whispered with flawless sympathy. “I baked cookies…” She looked up at him with doe eyes.

“Mm… thank you.” Rafe hugged her back tight, feeling like he was proving something. Emily was just a sweet and kind best friend.

“Do you want to go up to your room or…” she suggested, innocently.

“Um… yeah sure.” Rafe has to admit, it was a little weird. They hadn’t really hung out in his room since freshman year of high school, when you and Rafe started dating. But he didn’t mind. He was just glad Emily had agreed to come in the first place on such short notice. 

They walked up the stairs and into his room… or what used to be your shared room. Most of your things were still scattered among his. Your hairbrush. Your favourite perfume. Your sweater. Rafe ignored it, trying to focus on Emily now. She made herself at home on the bed, as if it hadn’t been years since she’d been up here. 

“It’s changed a lot,” Emily murmurs, looking around the room with curiosity. 

“Yeah, I guess…” Rafe agrees. He can honestly barely remember what his room looked like before, aside from the mess and the fact that it lacked colour. The shift from all black to lighter shades was obvious. 

“She had some… tastes, huh?” Emily remarks, with a slight hint of disgust.

Rafe picks up on it immediately. “Good tastes,” he corrects. You both may be on a break, but he can’t stand to see anyone insult you in any way. Even if that person is his supposed best friend.

“So tell me what happened.” Emily switches the subject, patting the spot on the bed next to her. Rafe stares for a second, then sits a little further away.

“She just gets so… worked up and paranoid, you know?” He shakes his head incredulously. “Like I’ve never given her any reason to doubt me. I’ve always been loyal and she just-”

Rafe turns to look at Emily for a second. She seems a little closer, her eyes drifting between his and his lips. “Keep going,” she whispers. Rafe turns away, running a hand through his hair, deciding to ignore it. He’s probably seeing things.

“She just always thinks that something is going on between you and me, no matter how many times I’ve told her we’re just friends. She never seems to believe it and I-”

“What if she’s right?” Emily breathes, her tone low. Suggestive.

Rafe spins to look at her. Face blank for a second. Then he laughs, almost nervously. She’s joking. “You’re joking, right?” He tries to mask his panic. Panic that maybe you were right. No, that can’t be it.

Emily smiles, sweet as sugar. “Don’t play stupid, Rafe. You’re not with her anymore. You can admit it.”

“Admit what?” Rafe’s voice comes out almost shaky. No. No, no, no. This cannot be happening right now. Emily is a friend-

That thought is interrupted when Emily laughs softly before leaning forward. Rafe barely processes it as her lips meet his. No. This is wrong. You were right. Fuck. He pushes her back a little too hard, enough that she’s taken again. 

Emily looks up at Rafe, a slight smile still on her face, but now fading. “What the fuck, Rafe? C’mon, it’s me. You know I’ve always liked you-”

Rafe stands abruptly, pacing. “No. No stop. You don’t mean that. You’re my friend, Emily. We’re best friends-”

“You know that’s always been a cover-up, Rafe. She’s gone now. I know you’ve been waiting to get rid of her for years. All because you didn’t want to hurt her stupid feelings-”

“Don’t!” Rafe's voice is sharp, full of the sting of betrayal. How is this happening? Rafe stares at the wall, like the pieces are finally falling into place. “She was right…” he whispers, under his breath.

“What did you say?” Emily's voice is cold now, all traces of sweetness gone.

“Oh my god, she was right,” Rafe muttered, louder now. He looks at Emily in a completely different light now. “She said that you were into me. That you had that look in your eyes. I didn’t want to believe her, but-”

“Who cares, Rafe? You know I’m the one you really want. I’m so much better than that little slut-”

“Get out,” he growls, heaving now. 

“Rafey… you don’t really mean that.” Emily pouts.

“Get the fuck out of my house. I don’t want to see you ever again. You understand?” Rafe snapped, eyes blazing.

“Rafe-”

“Get out!” He finally yells. Shock paints Emily’s face, but only for a second before she picks up her purse and storms out with a: “Fine. Fuck you, Rafe.”

Rafe just stands there, frozen, like he can’t believe what’s happened in the past 24 hours. Now he’s lost both his girlfriend and his best friend. But the only thing on his mind is the fact that you were right.

Later that night…

You were curled under the plush blankets in your room, eyes red and puffy as you scrolled through your camera roll. Going through every single photo of you and Rafe. Trying to memorise every single detail. You’d probably never see him again after this. You should’ve known how much Emily means to him.

Your thoughts are interrupted when a text pops up. It’s from Rafe. His name still has that stupid heart emoji next to it. You open the text. 

Rafe ❤️: hey can we meet up?

You just stare at it for a few seconds, unsure what to do. How to reply. Eventually, you type back.

You: where?

Rafe smiled on the other end, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief that you were actually willing to see him after everything. He was grateful you hadn’t blocked him and deleted his number. His fingers moved swiftly.

Rafe ❤️: the pier. in 10?

There were a lot of piers in Figure 8, but you knew exactly the one he was talking about. The half-broken one with falling pieces down by Shire Road. Nobody ever bothered to fix it, so that spot became yours years ago when you stayed up talking about nothing and everything. 

You: okay

You arrived a little early, arms wrapped around yourself to shield from the biting wind. Rafe arrived moments later, hair tousled, eyes bloodshot. From crying or from coke? You didn’t know, but you didn’t ask. Just waited for him to say what he wanted to. 

Rafe noticed instantly that you were cold, shrugging off his jacket and wrapping it around your shoulders, as if nothing had changed. You let him. He only seemed to realise after that things weren’t right between you two. 

“Sorry, I didn’t…” He trailed off, unsure.

“Why did you call me here?” you whispered, wanting to get this over with. He probably wanted to break up with you officially or something. Instead, the next words he spoke were the last thing you were expecting:

“I fucked up. Like really bad,” he doesn’t know how else to admit it. Rafe’s never been good with his feelings. He takes a deep breath before continuing. “I thought… it doesn’t matter what I thought. What matters is that I was wrong. You were right.”

You blinked, barely able to take in the words. You manage to snap yourself out of the shock. “A-about what?”

“Emily,” he forces out her name, looking everywhere but at you. The words just spill out, his voice frantic like he needs you to hear all of it. “I called her over, and she was all sweet at first. She came up to my- our room, and I was venting, and she tried to come onto me. I couldn’t believe it. I shoved her off, and she admitted she’s always liked me, and I told her to get out and…” 

He finally meets your eyes again, his full of guilt. “You were right. I should’ve seen, and I shouldn’t have yelled at you, and I’m so sorry, baby, I…” When Rafe notices how quiet you are, it makes him feel more shitty. “Please, say something.”

“Is she gone? For good?” you whisper, hopeful.

“Yes, I promise. I don’t want anything to do with her. I… I want to be with you.” Rafe’s voice is sincere, something rare. When you don’t reply, he keeps going. “I know I messed up badly, but I’m willing to do whatever takes to make it up to you, just… please, baby?”

“I want to be with you, too,” you murmur, soft as always. 

Rafe’s whole face lights up as he steps closer, cupping your face with one hand. He leans down slowly, giving you time to pull away, but when you don’t, he presses his lips to yours. Soft at first, then a little deeper. 

You kiss him back, wrapping your arms around his neck, gasping softly as he pulls you closer by your waist so you’re completely pressed up against him. He walks both of you back until you’re leaning against the railing of the pier, the wood cold against your back, his jacket still enveloping you.

“I missed you,” he mumbles when he finally pulls back, his forehead resting against yours, both of you breathing heavily. You smile softly, “It’s only been a day.” 

He shakes his head, pressing more pecks down your jaw and neck. “Mm, feels like it’s been weeks.” You giggle softly, leaning into him. “I love you.” The words just slip out of your mouth. 

Rafe freezes, pulling back for a second to look at you before his lips curve into a little smile. “I love you too, baby.” The moment lasts a few seconds before: 

“You owe me ice cream tomorrow.”

Rafe laughs, real for once, pulling you into his arms. “Baby, you can have all the ice cream in the world, okay?”

You smile, resting your head against Rafe’s chest, knowing that she’s finally gone.

a/n: im sorry this took so long to do, but tysm to whoever sent in this request! i loved the idea so much and wanted to make sure i did it right. also like apologies if your name is emily lol, im sure you're a wonderful person. more headcanons are coming tomorrow!✨ feel free to send in requests for fics, headcanons or moodboards ‎ꫂ᭪݁

taglist: @rafesgreasycurtainbangs

dividers: @chrisssiren

♡ masterlist ♡

[kyotokisses]

» frat!kuna helping u out when ur needy. mdni , 18+

you were so fucked.

you’re disgustingly hot friend, sukuna, was currently in his gaming chair, not one care in the world. his soft LED lights glowed against the edges of his room — muted lavender fading into a gentle pink — casted a hazy, dreamlike wash over everything. the light catches on the sharp lines of his jaw, the slight sheen of sweat at his temple, the way his fingers flex around the controller.

but you, on the other hand, were laying on his bed, thighs pressed together as you lay sideways on the rumpled sheets. they smelled faintly like him—something warm and clean, mixed with the lingering scent of cologne. the mattress dipped just enough to make you feel like you were sinking into him, even from across the room.

“fuck!” he exclaimed, watching as his hp slowly down with each shot. the rapid clicking of buttons filled the room, mixing with the low hum of his console and the faint buzz of the LED strips. “are you guys fuckin’ useless?!” he yelled into his mic, so focused on the game that he didn’t even realize the way you were eyeing him..

see, it wasn’t supposed to be this bad. everyone has had just a tinnnnny crush on their friend. but it wasn’t supposed to get to the point where you’ve dreamed of fucking him. the thought of his cock slamming into you as you try to ignore the heat in your core.

“kunaaaa’!” you whined, your voice soft, almost melting into the quiet spaces between the game’s sound effects.

“yea, baby?” he rasped, his voice softer now, rough around the edges in a way that made your chest tighten.

“are you almost done?” a sigh came from your lips as you flopped over on your stomach, legs kicked up and swinging in the air. he tilted his head back to you and rolled his eyes, oblivious to your situation at the moment.

“why, you need something?” he hummed, fingers moving across the keyboard like a practiced dance. you quickly zoned out, stuck in a tranquil daze as you stared at the veins crawling from his hand to his forearm. he called your name, and you blinked rapidly — pulled out of your filthy daydreams.

“hmmm?” you drew out your words, trying to ignore the wetness that was currently pooling in your fucking panties. “i don’t need anything, jus’ bored.” you added quietly, trying to rub your thighs together discreetly.

“i’ll be done in a fuckin’ minute, alright, angel?” you nodded, knowing he couldn’t even see you, you were just trying to get off. your arousal getting unbearable at this point, you needed him. a few beats went by before you gave in and called his name. he let out a small hum — signifying he was listening — which gave you the opportunity to speak your mind.

“this may be weird, ‘kuna, but i’m really…” you trail off, too embarrassed to even continue. a small groan left your lips as your head plopped down onto his pillow, inhaling his smell. he took his headset off, confused, and pulled up a brow. you sighed exasperatedly before continuing. “really — and i mean like really” you paused, feeling your face heat up. “…wet” you whispered.

the word felt like it echoed in the room. you couldn’t bare look up and see his expression. what if you just ruined the entire friendship? you wanted to crawl up into a hole in die — well, before he spoke.

“is that why you were calling me?” he asked, his voice huskier than before. he stood up, his body tight, almost as if he would crack with one touch. he stalked closer to the bed, his eyes on you. you nodded, swallowing spit even though your mouth was completely dry.

he was wound up like a spring, closing his eyes and taking a long inhale. in his attempt of relaxation a small “‘kuna” came from you, and that there was his last straw.

he pounced on you, his lips crashed onto yours as if you were his only form of sustenance. “fuck, you know what you — mmph..! — do to me. sayin’ that shit to me, you tryna fuckin’ kill me angel?”

“need you, so much. please — ‘kuna — baby!” you moaned into his mouth. a sharp intake of air was pulled into your chest as his fingers slid into your pajama shorts, down to your sopping wet panties, and rubbed ever so slowly. “hngh..! — fuck, please. i need you!” a whine pulled from your lips, and he swallowed it with a guttural grown. your hips bucked up and your sobbing cunt clenched around absolutely nothing.

his lips traveled down to your collarbones, licking and biting your skin as if it were food. “pretty fuckin’ body, mine to ruin. my fuckin’ angel.” he almost growled into your skin. he was devouring you, two fingers rubbing your clit faster through your soaked panties until you inevitably squirted all over his hands and abdomen. hands soaked in your juices as he brought it to your lips and finger fucked your mouth.

“taste yourself, baby. oh, fuck — you’re so sexy, angel.” he moaned out. he finally pulled down your shorts, hooking your panties to the side, and revealed the glistening mess between your thighs. a groan ripped from his chest as he admired you in a mesmerized fashion. a sly grin crossed his face as he stared down at you “all this for me?”

you had nothing to say, already too fucked out to comprehend. your body buzzed with arousal as you shook slightly from the aftershocks of your orgasm. a wet slap! on your clit caused your attention to be pulled back to him “mmph — fuck. m’sensitive, ‘kuna!” you whimpered out.

he chuckled and stared at you for a beat, almost starstruck. “hm?” you hummed, voice having that post-orgasmic bliss effect.

“nothing, jus’… admiring.” he said, voice soft and almost dazed. you would be just as dazed as him, but you weren’t. that’s because he had his raging hard on pressed directly on your oversensitive cunt. he grinded down on you subconsciously, not realizing the tiny whimpers that were being pulled from your chest.

“sukuna.” you rasped. “you’re really fucking hard..” he nodded like it was an everyday thing.

“i know.” he replied, and shrugged a bit. “i want this to be about you, i mean, you did need this more than i do.” he said, and flicked your clit with his thumb.

“ngh — so you’re not gonna, fuck.. do anything about it?” you asked, absentmindedly grinding back onto him slightly — your wetness eventually causing a dark grey patch to form on his sweats.

“nope, i’ll just do what i always do when you come over.” he said, you arched a brow — confused.

“and that is?” you asked, voice skeptical.

“jerk myself off in the bathroom after you touch, or hug me.”

wow guys that was so amazing, i’ve been writing this fic for like three days; but i just had no motivation to finish🫩

[lvlykissmet]

𓏲🪽˚. ˖ . ݁ 𝓙𝓙𝓚 𝓢𝓜𝓐𝓤 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓨/𝓝

♡ summary: you fell down the stairs during your first mission

♡ sorcerer!reader anygender!reader oneshot!

♡₊˚ ・₊✧♡₊˚ ・₊✧♡₊˚ ・₊✧♡₊˚ ・₊✧♡₊˚ ・₊✧♡₊˚ ・₊✧♡₊˚ ・₊✧♡₊˚ ・₊✧

[b3ttybattz]

Just a thought based on this

This got a little out of hand || did not proof read 💔

Word count : 3k

@yourwifejosie I hope you enjoy 🫶🏽

︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶

In the three months you and Jack have been together, you have not seen this man shirtless not once. Really, the farthest you have all gone is some fully-clothed dry humping and him eating you out like a man starved.

You don't mind going slow though, that doesn't stop the curiosity in you to grow. It slowly became a game of cat and mouse, with you trying to peak and see what must be hidden underneath.

It wasn't until a random day you two decided to have a sleepover that you would see what was such a big deal. (a title you, of course, gave it) Usually you would text him when you were pulling up to his place, just to give him a little heads up.

Well, today you couldn't, on the phone, something to do with your job. So you used the key you rarely ever used. Jack, being the man that he is, had made it a habit to just unlock the door when he got the text.

Not this time, it didn't seem like he was going to see your message anyway, which you would soon see why as you went straight to his bedroom, kinda expecting to see the grey-haired man lying in bed with a new book from his best friend, Robby? Who seems to have a long list for your boyfriend to read up on.

Nope, you were delightfully surprised to see him freshly out of the shower, water droplets cascading down his back muscles. Each droplet makes its own pattern, using its freckled-based skin as guidance. You don't know what to look at first, your eyes taking in as much as you can.

"You're staring, sweetheart," he tooted his lips to the side in a tight, contained smile. He didn't even spare you a glance. Just readjusting the crutch that was under his arm to help him around the house.

You rolled your eyes at his smugness. "Well, some of us haven't gotten the chance to see their boyfriend even a little bit naked," you uttered back, crossing your arms.

He turned around to speak, shifting his weight to the crutch to do so. He must've forgotten how low his towel was, or how high his tattoo was? Either way you saw it, the sight alone muffled out the surrounding noise, including Jack. Even if it was in your sight just for a moment. It was words, inked on Jack's stomach, it was a few inches away from his navel area. The thought alone had your head spinning, you never really thought it would be a tattoo. He just didn't seem like the type.

He must've followed your eyes because they sure as hell did drop with his movement. He cleared his throat, drawing your attention back up to meet his gaze, not missing the way he readjusted his towel around his waist, bringing it higher. Was that a red tint to his ears?

"You're right, that isn't fair." That ever-so-calm feeling he brings was back. The tips of his ears slowly coming back to normal. With his newly discovered ink locked away again, hidden by the soft material of his towel, while using the crutch tucked underneath his arm. He shuffled over to you, the irregular footsteps creaked under the weight on the wooden flooring. His one hand going to your chin, "Want to see more of me, pretty girl?" He raised an eyebrow like there was even a reason to ask that.

"Yes," your bottom lip was gently caught against your teeth only for a moment before jack used the pad of his thumb to free your bottom lip, ghosting over the soft tissue of skin.

"Yes, what?" His voice was low and controlled.

Your voice, on the other hand, was not. "Yes, please?"

He let out a dry laugh, "That sounded like more of a question to me. Do you, or do you not? Sweetheart?"

God, you love it when he was so clear-cut like that.

"Yes, Sir. I want to see more of you." Your hand went up to his towel. Tugging at it like it was a stubborn bow that didn't want to be undone.

"Tch, Tch. Someone gotta learn patience."

He had the nerve to lean down to your ear, while his hand slides across your jaw, letting his thumb glide down your neck against your pulse point, you just know he can feel how fast he has your heart thumping.

"I'm sorry, just… really want to see all of you. The way you seen all of me."

With the towel tucked and secured, it allowed him to place a hand on your waist, guiding you with an uneven step to the bed. He sat down first, placing the crutch to the side, still in arms distance.

"Come, sit right here. Baby" He patted his lap as a silent request to accompany his vocal one. He let out a sigh, a good one, one that seemed like he only lets out around the people he can trust, like you. The thought made your heart flutter and cocoons hatch into butterflies in your stomach. Once you were safely in his lap, his hands, now both free to rest on your hips, couldn't resist the urge to palm your ass while he was there.

He didn't move, not an inch. "Is this your way of teaching me patience, Jackie?" Your hips rolled down against him. Earning you a muted groan and his fingers digged into the padded globes of your ass that threatened to leave a bruise. His breath fanning against the slightly sweat-coated skin not having the luxury of taking a shower just yet. But he didn't seem to mind as his tongue laid flat, licking up his neck.

"Maybe, it doesn't seem like you're getting the message though." He pulled away from your neck. "Stand up for a second and close your eyes."

You gave him a raised questioning eyebrow before you stood up, closing your eyes.

He removed the towel, letting his aching cock finally feel the cool air of the room. You really can't stay still for the life of yourself, watching as you sway slightly his eyes slightly following the movement of your hips, wishing to see your bare skin doing the movement.

He reached out, pulling at the hem of his work pants, he saw his eyes peek open: "Close them, love. No peaking. I don't need to blindfold now, do I?" He smiled to himself, seeing the little bob in his throat as you swallowed whatever you were originally going to say back down. Deciding on a simple head nod, "Sweetheart", there was no real emotion behind it, just a plain statement he knew he didn't have to say more.

"No, Sir. I can keep my eyes closed" fuck a part of you hated how much he craves you. Whether it's forcing you to be vocal, the eye contact, the way he just doesn't shut up until you're fully talked through, it is a trembling mess beneath him.

"Good girl. Take off your pants for me, Sweetheart. Nice and slow," before his hand fully left you, he brought his other hand up, placing it on your waist. Before you could even start, he turned you around. "There we go, Such a pretty little sight." He mumbled to himself, but, of course, you heard, young ears "Go ahead."

'This old perv,' you thought to yourself with a smile on your face. He likes to deny it, but he's definitely an ass man.

You slowly unbutton your pants doing a little sway of your hips, nothing crazy. Just wanting to get his attention, you had it alright the sound of his hands moving against his dark blue sheets.

He leaned back using one hand to balance on, while his other hand went to his thigh. Teasing himself, his loose leg hairs tickling the pad of his fingers before his palm was flatly against his warm skin.

You have undone the button and zipper. Your fingers hooking itself in the belt loops. Your movement had a slowness to it almost deliberately with no attempt to hide it.

He inhaled deeply, his hand finally wrapping itself around his already hardened cock. He took his hand off for just a moment, licking his hand for a little slick, giving himself a few pumps, watching your hips teasing dance to the beat inside your head.

"Didn't know you like a little strip tease action, Jackie?" Your tone was airy in a teasing type of way.

The smooth cotton material felt hot compared to the crisp air of the room. You worked your pants off, gliding them past your hips, bending over farther just a little until you felt like you gave him enough of a view of your panties practically glued to your pussy. Give him a clear outline of your folds. You let it drop and pool around your ankle before stepping out of the pants fully moving them to the side with your foot.

"It's a lot you don't know about me yet," Hun leaned forward, guiding him to step backwards closer to him. "Plenty I want to learn about though." He placed a kiss on your lower back just below where your shirt ended.

"Like what?" your hand reached back to rest on his shoulder.

His hands went up your sides until he was high enough to cup your breast in his hand, feeling the weight in his palm. "Just how good of a listener you can be," one hand dropped onto your stomach, pushing down slightly, gesturing to get you to follow.

You dropped your hand from his shoulder. Now seated on his lap, gasping at the feeling of his length finally coming in contact with your folds. It took everything in you not to grind against him. "I can be good."

"I have no doubt that you can, Sweetheart. Will you? Will you be good for me?" His hips rolled against yours, giving you a little something. He could feel just how wet you had gotten.

"Fuck, yes. Jack, I'll be good." You nodded your head eagerly, as he rested on his shoulder.

"Okay, Honey. Let's put that to the test, huh?" He turned his head to face your ear. "I want you to turn around and face me," he kissed your cheek.

You do as you're told, pulling away from his warm skin just enough to turn around. Your eyes were about to drop to look at his cock, but Jack stops you. His had cupped your chin.

"I want your eyes on me, if you can't take it close them. Understand?"

Shit, he never really spoke to you like that, in that tone. It was always soft and calming. Not now it was commanding that it left no room for actual back talk. "I understand… Sir," you kept your eyes on his. Now allowed sitting down on his lap, your legs were set just outside of his, relying on your knees as your hands went to his shoulders

"Start moving those sexy hips a little, Yeah?" He moved his hips along his length, setting that slow pace. "Just like that. So natural at it baby. Fuck at you go."

You let out a whine, his eyes looking down at your panty covered pussy grinding down against him. His hips buckling against you, the sight of your thighs starting to tremble made him want to abort his whole plan and fuck you here and now. But he didn't. Instead, he brought his eyes up to yours. "I'm sorry, you want to see my eyes, don't you?"

"Mhmm uh" you hummed to focus on bringing yourself closer to cumming. Your eyes were closed and head was tilted back by the time he looked back up at you. One hand moving from his shoulders to the side of his neck. Your thumb rubbing inconsistently against his jaw. While the rest of your fingers were at the base of his hair, weaving your fingers through his grey curls.

"Can you-?" You didn't even get to finish, as if he read your mind. He started to buck his hips against yours, matching his preset pace.

"Of course I can. But I want you to do something for me. You think you can do that?" His words were a little uneven and his breathing got heavy. But he still had that voice, that could guide you through pretty much anything.

"What?" You answered thoughtlessly, mumbling against his neck, deciding to hide your face there.

"I want you to take over. Let me keep up with your pace. Sounds nice, don't it?" He let go of your hips, one hand taking action to pull you away from his neck to see your face. While your other hand goes up your sides, his left thumb brushing against the underside of your breast.

You nod your head. As you let out a shuttered breath, "Y-yes, just a little faster?" It wasn't a genuine question, more like a thought that slipped out your mouth. Your hips roll faster, more desperate.

Using one hand, his hand went under his shirt, unhooking the bra after the second attempt. You helped it take it off, reaching for the hem of your shirt, but he stopped you.

"Keep it on." Both his hands teasing your nipples over your shirt. "You like it when the fabric rubs against you, huh? Sweetheart?"

Your hip buckle messing up your set pace. "I'm close," you cling onto him, his thighs flexing. Your breathing picking up. "Fuck, Baby. I'm cumming" your hips stopped in place, trembling against his lap.

You held onto Jack as you came down from your high. You pull back to see Jack's eyes were looking down. You followed his. That's when you officially see it. Eyes widened. Not only did Jack have a tattoo, but it said 'it won't suck itself.'

Jack smirked. "Take a picture while you're at it."

Hell, if you could even remember where it was, your problem would've been. Instead, you kissed your way down his neck, slowly peeling off his lap to lower yourself. Making your way down past his chest. His hand is going to your hair. Not pulling or guiding, just a place to feel connected to you.

"What's doing, Sweetheart?" It wasn't like he was complaining. But a second ago, you could barely keep your eyes open. Now here you are full of energy, kissing down every inch of his body.

"You got the tattoo for a reason, right?" Is all you say, when you reached his cock, your attention being redirected from the conversation to making him cum. He was closing the light breaths against the underside and watching it twitch up close in person only made his mouth water more.

"Shit, I guess you're right. I'm not going to stop you," his hips jerked up your breath, fanning the sensitive, slick-coated underside of his cock. His hand tightened in your hair before relaxing again. He knew you would treat him just right all on your own.

Which you did, taking him inside your mouth. Starting at a slow pace at first, getting used to taking him inch by inch. You started to bob your head, picking up the pace. He was close, you could tell from his uneven breathing, the way his hips would buckle no matter how much he tried to hold back out of respect. Or the way he looked at you through his eyelashes and heavy eyes.

"I'm close, Sweetheart. Ready for me?"

You hum around his cock nodding your head slightly. Within a couple of seconds, you felt the warmth of his cum pour down your throat.

You slowly pulled off, swallowing ever drop. Opening your mouth, sticking your tongue out showing it was all good, smiling up at him.

He looked down at removing his hand from his hair going to his chin. Thumb ghosting over your button lip, guiding you closer. Kissing your lips. "Did so fucking good for me."

︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶

After a little tcl with him wiping you down with a warm rag, and some water for both of you. You could finally have him in your arms, his body tangled up in yours, his breathing just a little uneven from his orgasm.

After a few moments of silence, you let the question on your mind go free.

"So were you ever going to tell me about that?" your fingers trace the lettering with the tip of your finger. You could feel his muscles flex under your touch.

"The thing I have been regretting for the past couple of years? Never if possible," his hand trailed up the side of your arm. His calloused hand traveling down to your hip as you sat up and faced him. "But I know you will see it sooner rather than later."

"Never?!" You faced a faux pout. "I can't believe you would do that to me." You wiggle your eyebrows. "Oh, so, you had something planned, a grand reveal."

"Please," he rolled his eyes at your drama. "It's nothing special, just a drunken, twenty-year-old mistake. With no grand reveal deserving of it. Probably would've just asked and shown if you said yes."

You wiggled out of his grasp, taking your spot to straddle his hip. "First, of course, I would've said yes. Second, I have to thank twenty-year-old you." You lean down placing a kiss on his lips. "Clear, cut instructions. I think even if I was tipsy I would be able to follow them."

"Easy, Sweetheart. Don't start something you know I can make you not be able to finish." That didn't stop the pulse of his cock, which he knows didn't go unnoticed by you.

"I'd like to see you try, old man," you make your move to straddle him again. "I'm ready for you."

︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶

Extra

"So why did you even pick 'it won't suck itself?' Was there a girl you had in mind?" you teased. It'd been a week since you seen it, but the thought just came to mind.

He was blushing, caught off guard by the question. But not about the phase instead of the reference to it being a girl that was on his mind… but that's a conversation for another day.

(couldn't help a little young!Rabbot moment)

[slxtforzaddypedro]

baby daddy- a.m

description: its mother's day in manning household, and arch cant help but want to make another little manning. his wife cant help how sexy her husband is.

warnings ✉️ྀི ⋮ nsfw. minors do not interact !! wife!reader. emotionally established relationship. marriage. sexual tension. possessive dynamics. adult language. kissing. public intimacy. explicit sexual content. oral sex. penetrative sex. dirty talk. husband!arch.

🀢🀣🀦🀤🀢🀣🀦🀤🀢🀣🀦🀤🀢🀣🀦🀤🀢🀣🀦🀤🀢🀣🀦🀤🀢🀣🀦🀤🀢🀣🀦🀤🀢🀣🀦🀤🀢🀣🀦🀤

arch pov-

i wake up to a hand in my face and a whisper that’s trying very hard not to be loud and failing miserably.

“daddy.”

i don’t move at first. just crack one eye open, because i already know.

lilah is perched right on my chest, knees digging in like she weighs nothing at all. her hair is everywhere, pajama shirt twisted sideways. aj stands at the foot of the bed like this is a meeting and i’m late.

“what,” i mumble.

“it’s mother’s day,” aj says, serious. “we have to cook.”

lilah nods emphatically. “we can’t cook without you.”

i glance to my left. she’s still asleep, curled up on her side, hair fanned across the pillow, breathing slow and even. the kind of sleep you only get when you don’t know you’re about to be loved on.

“okay,” i whisper. “okay. but we have to be quiet.”

i say “meet me down stairs, go,” 

lilah slides off me immediately, landing on the floor with a soft thud. aj already turns toward the door like we’re on a timer.

i sit up, rubbing my face, reaching for the shorts at the foot of the bed. lilah pauses in the doorway, looks back at me like she just remembered something important.

“daddy,” she says quietly, “don’t forget your glasses.”

i freeze for half a second, then grab them off the nightstand.

“you’re right,” i say, slipping them on. “almost forgot.”

she smiles like she’s pleased with herself and disappears down the hall.

and i think, not for the first time, thank you. 

——

i decided last minute that we were gonna need to step up our game so we left to hit the local market and grab flowers, coffee, and her favorite bagel from the shop by the house. 

“do you think mom will like it,” lilah asks, quieter now.

i look at her,confidence wavering just a little. “she’s gonna love it.”

and i mean that.

we load everything onto a tray that’s definitely not meant for all of this. aj insists on carrying it. lilah insists on helping even though she can’t really see over the edge.

we move slow down the hallway. the house still feels sleepy, like it hasn’t caught on yet.

our bedroom door creaks.

lilah freezes.

“it’s okay,” i whisper.

she’s still asleep.

i set the tray on the nightstand and aj clears his throat.

“happy mother’s day,” he says, soft but proud.

she stirs, blinking, confused, then sits up when she sees them.

“what is all this,” she laughs quietly, voice already thick.

“we got you breakfast and coffee” lilah says, climbing onto the bed and immediately hugging her. “dad helped.”

“and we got you these,” aj adds pulling flowers out from behind his back. 

she kisses them both, eyes shining now. “this is perfect.”

she balances the tray on her lap, still half-asleep, hair everywhere, shoulders bare. she takes a sip of coffee, hums.

“this is perfect,” she says.

aj lights up like he just won something.

they hang around for a minute—pointing out what they did, correcting each other—until i clap my hands. 

“alright,” i say. “go clean up downstairs. the kitchen is mess from whatever you guys were doing before you woke up me” a small laughter following

aj nods and hops off the bed. lilah leans in for one more kiss.

they take off, already arguing, voices drifting down the stairs. the door stays open.

quiet doesn’t rush in this time—it just settles.

i lean back against the headboard and prop myself up on one arm, stretching like i’ve got nowhere else to be. she notices. of course she does.

her eyes lift to mine.

then drift.

slowly.

my chest. my arm. my shorts. my glasses.

she doesn’t even try to hide it.

“you look rather handsome mr. manning” she says.

“oh is that right mrs. manning?” i ask. “i will have to say you look rather beautiful yourself,”

she smiles into her coffee. “you know exactly what you’re doing don’t you?”

i shrug. “i woke up like this.”

“you did not.”

i shift closer, “it’s mother’s day baby. i’m allowed to want to give my wife and mother of my children a damn show,”

she laughs, but her eyes stay on me. linger. deliberate.

“thank you,” she says softly. “not just for breakfast. for everything.”

i reach out, thumb tracing slow circles on her face. “you’re the reason any of this exists.”

she looks up at me then, really looks at me, and something warm pulls tight in my chest.

i lean in and kiss her—slowly. 

she kisses me back just as easily.

she moves the tray quickly to the ground moving down to my level. 

my hands fly up to her waist pulling her closer feeling her warmth. her hands tracing their own map on my body, 

and then—

laughter.

loud. fast. getting closer.

“LILAH—”

the chaos barrels in anyway. lilah skids into the room, aj right behind her with a nerf gun, both of them laughing like they forgot how doors work.

“OUT,” i say immediately, pointing.

they stop, still laughing.

“sorry,” lilah giggles.

“downstairs,” i repeat, smiling despite myself.

they disappear again.

she’s laughing now too, shaking her head.

“happy mother’s day baby ,” i mutter.

she reaches for my hand, squeezing it once. “best one yet.”

and i believe her.

—————-

the towel hangs loose around my waist, damp and barely doing its job. i wanted to take a shower with y/n—wanted it badly—but we were on a clock. kids needed dinner. kids needed baths. my parents were expecting them. the night was already moving faster than either of us planned.

i handled dinner. she took bath time.

fair trade. barely.

i’m stepping into my underwear when she comes in, hair still wet, pajamas on, skin warm from the steam. she looks tired in that soft way that makes her even harder to look away from.

“how was bath time?” i ask, a quiet laugh slipping out.

“never ending,” she says, rolling her eyes. “but they’re in the game room now. movie’s on.”

i cross the bathroom before she can turn away, fingers already finding her waist. “so that means we can finish what we started this morning.”

my mouth finds her neck.

she tilts her head back on instinct, giving me more space, more skin—then laughs, breathy and knowing. “you wish.”

she tries to step away. i don’t let her.

“no,” i murmur, holding her closer. “you don’t get to be this beautiful.”

a kiss.

“and distracting.”

another.

“and perfect,” i add, softer now, pressing my forehead to hers.

she smiles like she knows exactly what she’s doing to me. “oh, i do,” she teases. “it’s my day.”

that confidence—that ease—gets me every time.

i kiss her once more, slower this time, then force myself to step back before i forget what time it is. i move into the closet, pretending i need distance when really i need restraint.

her dress is hanging there, waiting.

backless. low. loose in all the right places. the kind of dress that looks effortless on her and wrecks me anyway. the kind that leaves nothing to the imagination without trying.

my jaw tightens as i picture her in it. the way other men will look. the way i’ll notice. the way i always do.

i’ve been like this since college—quietly possessive, dangerously sure. the idea of a life without her has never made sense to me. never will.

the sound of her blow dryer snaps me back.

i get dressed fast, buttoning my shirt on autopilot. when i step back into the bedroom, i stop short.

she’s standing at the vanity, bare skin catching the light, completely unbothered by the fact that i’m watching. she takes one last look at herself, then straightens when she sees me.

“hey, sexy,” she says lightly, brushing past me. her perfume lingers as she pulls the dress on, fabric sliding into place like it was made for her.

she faces the mirror, adjusting it, checking herself. meanwhile, i’m just standing there, staring, biting the inside of my cheek like it’ll help.

“earth to arch,” she says, slipping in the earrings i gave her for our anniversary.

“hm?” i mutter.

she turns, steps into me, lips brushing my ear. her voice drops—low, deliberate. “i swear you’ll get what you want,” she promises. “wherever. whenever. however.”

that does it.

the door shuts behind us without thought. i crowd her back, hands firm at her waist, burying my face against her, breathing her in like i need to remember how to function.

she cups my jaw, grounding me. “baby,” she says gently, smiling against my skin. “we have reservations. and parents waiting.”

i let out a groan that’s half frustration, half surrender, resting my forehead against her shoulder for a second longer than necessary.

“you’re cruel,” i mutter.

she laughs softly, kisses my cheek. “get your keys.”

i step back, exhale once, and remind myself—

later.

——

my parents’ driveway is already lit up when we pull in. the house looks awake in a way it never does for us anymore — too bright, too ready.

which tells me everything i need to know.

we barely roll to a stop before the front door opens.

my mom, ellen, steps out first, hands already clapping together, smile wide enough to be seen from the street. my dad’s right behind her, slower, steadier, but smiling all the same — the kind of smile he pretends he doesn’t have.

“there they are,” my mom calls, already halfway down the steps. “my babies!”

lilah doesn’t even wait for the engine to shut off. she fumbles with her seatbelt, nearly tangling herself in it before she finally breaks free and launches out of the car.

“grandma!” she yells, sprinting across the driveway like she’s been counting down to this moment all day.

ellen scoops her up easily, like lilah still weighs nothing at all. “oh, i missed you,” she gushes, kissing her cheek, her forehead, her hair. “ so much that i made cookies!” 

lilah squeals at the word cookies like it’s the best news she’s heard all week.

aj is calmer about it, but not by much. he opens his door and steps out like he knows exactly where he’s headed, walking straight toward cooper without looking back.

“grandpa,” he says, already grinning. “can we finish watching that movie tonight?”

cooper nods, pointing toward the door like this was always the plan. “you got it bud, and we’ll see if grandma will give up some cookies,” he nudges aj, 

he doesn’t even glance at us. not once.

i shut my door and look over at her. she’s already smiling, watching it all unfold like she expected exactly this.

“hi,” she says to my mom, warm and easy, like she’s still trying to be polite.

ellen barely registers her, too busy looking at lilah’s hair. “hi sweetheart—oh my goodness, lilah, your hair is so cute—aj, let me see you, come here—”

she reaches out and grabs aj’s face between her hands, studying him like she’s checking his growth with her eyes alone. cooper’s already ushering both kids toward the door, one hand on aj’s shoulder, the other holding lilah’s backpack like it belongs to him now.

we’re left standing on the porch, overnight bag hanging from my hand, suddenly very aware that we’re no longer part of the main event.

ellen pauses halfway inside, turning back like she just remembered something.

“oh,” she says, blinking at us. “you two. have fun. don’t rush. we’ve got them.”

cooper nods turning around and grabbing the bag. “we’ve got them.”

and just like that—

dismissed.

she bites her lip, clearly trying not to laugh.

“we’re not even people anymore,” she murmurs.

“we stopped being relevant the second aj was born,” i say quietly.

ellen calls from the kitchen, voice drifting out, “that is not true!”

it absolutely is.

lilah yells something about cookies from inside. aj yells something back about picking the movie. the volume of the house jumps instantly, like it’s feeding off their energy.

i squeeze her hand, grounding us back together. “ready?”

that slow, dangerous smile returns, the one that means she’s already shifted gears.

“yeah,” she says. “i’m ready.”

——

dinner barely registers.

corner booth. low light. one glass of wine each. her knee presses into mine under the table and doesn’t move. we exchange a few words — nothing important, nothing memorable. the kind of conversation that exists just to pass time.

i pay as soon as the check hits the table.

she doesn’t argue.

outside, the night air feels sharper, colder, like it knows we’re not staying out long. she slides into the car, dress shifting, perfume filling the space between us. the drive home is quiet and fast. my hand grips the wheel harder than necessary. hers rests on her thigh, fingers tracing slow, lazy lines like she’s got all the time in the world.

we don’t.

the house is dark when we walk in — quiet in a way that feels intentional. she kicks off her heels without stopping, already moving down the hall. i shut the door behind us, lock it, keys forgotten on the counter.

she turns just once, eyes on me, smile small and dangerous.

“you coming?” she asks.

———————

i follow her into the bedroom without hesitation.

the door closes behind me. the lock clicks.

she's already moving toward the bed, that dress sliding against her skin with every step. i watch the way it catches the light, the way her body moves underneath it—effortless, deliberate, like she knows exactly what she's doing to me.

“a promise is a promise,” she says, not turning around.

she reaches the bed and turns to face me. the dress gapes slightly where it's backless, skin exposed, vulnerable in a way that makes my chest tight.

"come here," she says softly.

i cross the room in three strides. my hands find her waist before i even think about it—muscle memory, need, the kind of certainty that only comes from knowing someone's body like it's your own.

she reaches up, fingers threading through my hair, pulling me down to her level. our foreheads touch first. breathing syncs. then her lips find mine—slow, deliberate, like she's reminding me how this works.

i kiss her like i've been waiting all day for this. because i have.

my hands slide up her back, feeling the bare skin, the warmth of her. she tastes like wine and want. her fingers work at my shirt buttons, impatient now, pulling the fabric open and pushing it off my shoulders.

"off," she murmurs against my mouth  

i shrug it away without breaking the kiss, letting it fall somewhere behind me. her hands are already on my chest, palms flat. she traces the lines of muscle, deliberate and slow, and i feel it everywhere—in my chest, my stomach, lower.

"god, i love you,” she whispers, pulling back just enough to look at me. her eyes are dark, pupils blown, and she's smiling like she knows exactly what she's doing.

i grip her jaw gently, thumb brushing her cheekbone. "you're not allowed to tease me tonight."

"why not?" she asks, that dangerous edge creeping back into her voice.

"because i've been waiting all day," i say, and i mean it. "and i'm not in the mood to wait anymore baby.”

she laughs—breathy, knowing—and reaches for my belt. her fingers work the buckle open, then the button, then the zipper. she's slow about it, deliberate, watching my face the whole time like she's enjoying the torture. she kneels down, never breaking eye contact. my breath hitches. she pulls me out of my boxer slowly. my brown eyes staring up at me innocently as you takes me in her mouth. i groan letting her work her magic on me. her mouth felt good but she feels like heaven. she feels me twitch in her mouth and stops. 

i let her stand up for exactly three seconds before i grab her wrist.

"my turn," i say.

i pull her closer, one hand at the small of her back, the other finding the zipper of that dress. it slides down easy, fabric pooling at her feet like it was never there at all. she's bare underneath—no bra, no underwear, just skin and curves and the kind of confidence that makes my mouth go dry.

"fuck," i breathe.

she steps out of the dress, completely naked now, and doesn't even try to hide the satisfaction on her face. she knows what she does to me. has always known.

i pull her against me, skin to skin, and the contact is almost too much. she's warm and soft and mine, and the possessiveness that's been simmering all day suddenly boils over.

i kiss her hard—not gentle anymore, not slow. my hands grip her waist, pulling her closer, and she responds immediately, meeting me with the same intensity. her fingers dig into my shoulders, her nails leaving marks i'll feel tomorrow.

"bed," she gasps against my mouth.

i don't argue. i guide her back, letting her fall onto the mattress, and she pulls me down with her. i'm still half-dressed—pants hanging low, underwear still on—and she fixes that immediately, pushing the fabric down my hips. i kick them off, and then there's nothing between us.

she's already reaching for me, pulling me down, and i settle between her thighs like i belong there. because i do.

"i love you," she says, and it's not what i expected to hear right now, but it hits different. it always does.

"i love you too," i murmur, and then i'm kissing her again, deep and slow, while my hand slides between her legs.

she's already wet, already ready, and the knowledge of that—the fact that she wants me this badly—sends a surge of heat through my entire body. i stroke her slowly, feeling her arch into my touch, hearing the small sounds she makes in the back of her throat.

“archie baby please,” she breathes, and it's a plea.

i don't make her wait. i position myself at her entrance and push inside slowly, watching her face as i do. her eyes flutter closed, her mouth falls open, and she's so tight around me that i have to pause for a second just to breathe.

she nods, eyes opening to meet mine. "more."

i pull back and thrust deeper, setting a rhythm that's slow and deliberate at first. her hands grip my back, nails dragging down my spine, and she's meeting me thrust for thrust. the sounds she makes—small gasps, breathy moans—are driving me crazy.

"you feel so good," i murmur against her neck, kissing the soft skin there. "so fucking good."

she tilts her head back, giving me more access, and i take it. i kiss and bite and suck at her neck, her collarbone, anywhere i can reach. she's mine. every inch of her is mine, and i need her to remember that.

my pace picks up, getting harder, faster, and she's right there with me. her legs wrap around my waist, pulling me deeper, and i can feel her getting close—the way her breathing changes, the way her muscles tighten around me.

“oh fuck baby,” i murmur, “hold it, i know you want to cum,” 

and she does. “please let me cum daddy,” she pleaded, “no im not done with you,” i say pulling out, she whimpers at the loss. i pull her into the closet and push her over our island again, 

“you wanted to tease me,” i say slamming back into her, “now i’m going to fuck you senseless,” i say through gritted teeth. 

her moans are loud and needy. she’s is fighting her orgasm so hard and i was too, “come for daddy baby,” my thrust starting to get sloppy and desperate. 

“oh fuck— don’t stop there archie bab—,” she was cut off by the wave crashing over her, her whole body clenched around me. she's said my name like it's the only word she knows. the feeling of her coming around me is almost too much—the clenching, the heat, the absolute surrender of it.

i follow her over the edge seconds later, burying myself deep inside her as i come, my entire body shaking with the force of it. i bury my face in her neck, breathing hard, and she's holding me like she'll never let go.

we stay like that for a long moment, tangled together, breathing in sync. her fingers trace lazy patterns on my back, and i press a kiss to her shoulder.

"happy mother's day," i murmur.

she laughs, breathless and satisfied. “i’m going to drive you mad on father’s day,” 

---------------------------

author note: if you have any requests, send em my way!

[mynhela]

Lohen has consumed my mindfddmdlss

Written before Lohens release so it’s probably OOC! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

Thinking about pre-relationship lohen with a reader on the shyer side.

You could be going over important reports relating to enemies and attack formations and he will stare into your soul just to see your reaction to his eye contact. He lives off of flustering you as much as he can, whether it be by complimenting you or getting into your space. He just thinks your so interesting and good looking!

If you’re a fighter, he will constantly ask to spar with you under the excuse that he’s helping you wield your weapon better. He lets you get a good couple of hits in, yet it always ends with him pinning you down to the ground, weapon thrown far enough to where you can’t reach it as he smiles down at you. “Got you right where I wanted, now, do you want to go out later tonight?”

Don’t talk much? No problem! He can keep a conversation going. He’ll tell you about his day, how his training went, and what he plans to do later on. He always gives you the chance to respond or talk about your own day if you’d like. He listens to whatever you have to say and soaks it up like a sponge.

Even when he’s away on his expedition, he always finds the time to write to you. He keeps every letter you send him tucked away in his tent near his sleeping mat. Whenever he feels alone, he rereads your letters with a smile on his face.

I dont see him as the kind of person who would continue his actions if he knew you didn’t like it. I believe he is intelligent enough to figure out when you really are uncomfortable. The moment he sees you tense up at his touch or push him away he’s off you. No questions asked.

Authors note:

this is so rushed but I wanted to write a little something! Also there are probably a bunch of typos oh well. I haven’t posted in a bit so I just wanted to get some thoughts out😛

[favbum]

Katsuki Bakugo

summary: he gives into your pleads

cw: nsfw (mdni)

tone: bf Katsuki

It wasn’t often Katsuki let you persuade him into things, especially when it came to his jurisdiction.

After all your cries and wailing to be given the opportunity of topping, he finally gave in and let you have a shot. Not at all because he wanted to see how you do, but simply because he didn’t want to hear you whine anymore.

The mood was set and a hard on waiting just for that plush ass to grind on was laid right out in front.

At first, things seemed normal. You entered, settled down, and began at a fair pace. But like any other situation, Katsuki’s patience was depleting, and fast.

The longer you went, the slower your stamina became and eventually he grew bored of you playing cowgirl. “I know you’re tired. Just let me do what I do best.” And without as much of a warning, he squeezed the peaches of your ass and hip thrust, lifting you in the process.

Slowly, he emptied his dick from inside your flesh walls until only the tip was present, making you shiver and brace yourself by gripping his shoulders. Then, he slammed back in, pushing up against your cervix.

Katsuki’s broken, suppressed moan oddly synchronized with your yelp. “Yeah, mm… This is just how I like it.”

With each thrust made your hands slip over, and over again. That’s when you had to resort to gripping his neck instead, gaining much more balance that way. He gagged a little, being choked by your thumbs.

Oddly enough, he liked the stimulation and only made him determined to go even faster. He huffed as he raised his hand to the back of your head and dipped it down so your ear was next to his lips. A grunt slipped out before he spoke.

“I’ll take charge from now on.” He panted, closing his eyes to finish. “Every. time.”

my sensitive ass would NOT be able to handle katsuki as a s/o, as bad as i want to.😿(i’m healed now)