#(and getting an inquiring ? about it just to be like 'this is pretty typical of me honestly')

[fishymedic]

Tiny little Steb with a small notebook, pen on his person (that he never really feels the need to use for communication+ is such an 'in case' method he really only has at his parents insistence)

-Him older with an notebook+pen as part of things he carries on him for others. Yet unlike back in Zaun it never really emerges from his bag (it used to, so people he was close with who liked to draw could+silly little doodle exchanges etc)

[chuluoyi]

✎ sick days

- gojo satoru x reader

who holds the fort when you fall sick? of course, it's your lovesick husband and baby!

genre: fluff, fluff, fluffff. basically, your baby is adorable, gojo is your husband and not only is he lovesick with you, he humors your baby so much it’s making me— sighs

note: based on this post! hi hi chu is back from vacation and here’s another dad!gojo fluff indulgence and we stan domestic men okay🤭

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

It's plain sight that Gojo Satoru is a highly attractive individual, and now that he has a son, it's fair to say that he’s the hottest dilf on the block.

With one hand twirling a famous brand of flu medicine box and the other propping his baby son at his hip, he garnered curious eyes, even in drugstore near his home.

“Hmm, why is it so cheap? Suspicious…”

Satoru let out a light hum, studying the orange and pink boxes, as well as glancing at the other purple box with bold labels claiming its effectiveness in halting cold symptoms, and then looked at his son.

His baby's big, crystal blue eyes blinked in wonder at the vibrant colors, and he reached out with grubby hands towards them. “Bwah!”

Suddenly, he got an idea.

“Hey, kiddo. Which do you think is better for mama?” he asked the baby, gesturing at the all three medicine on the rack with his jaw. “You choose.”

As if on cue, the little ball of fluff that was his son immediately reached out for the purple box, the more expensive out of all three displayed before him. Without missing a beat, he also seized both the orange and pink boxes in quick succession, holding them close to his chest.

Satoru broke into a hearty laugh, a wide grin split his face, as he affectionately tousled the boy's head with pride.

“That's my boy! Splurging is allowed—after all, we're rich!”

When the first signs of cold manifested in you, Satoru was already worried. He had warned you to take more rest, but typical you, you brushed it off as a mere fatigue.

And when this morning, you woke up to sudden coughing fits and hot-and-cold spells, which ended up with kicking him out of your shared bedroom in fear of spreading the virus, like the doting husband he was, Satoru promptly headed to the pharmacy with your baby in tow to get you some help.

"Oh my, sir, your son is so adorable!" the female cashier gushed when he got over to pay, finally voicing what other customers thought in their heads. He could sense the discreet glances from those around him even now.

As the baby clung to his shirt, Satoru tightened his grip on him and responded with a self-assured grin, ensuring those nearby heard his words, "Of course he is! My wife is pretty as heck too, shame she's down with fever today."

"Aww! Such high praise, you must adore your wife!"

"Mm-hmm!"

Ah, so he still has a wife. The other customers went about their day, some disappointed that the dilf was still evidently devoted to his wife. They could only wonder just who could the lucky woman was.

Moving on— after the short trip to the drugstore, Satoru went back home. He promptly checked on you in your master bedroom, inquiring, "Hey, how are—"

But he immediately halted upon seeing you nestled so comfortably under the blankets, sleeping soundly. For a moment, he simply stood, blinking and observing your serene slumber.

Strange that something inside him both softened and lurched at the sight. You were just that precious in his eyes. Stupid as it was, he was quite miserable to go through the day without your nagging and nitpicking. And above all, he never liked seeing you in any kind of discomfort—it made his protective instincts soar.

Hence his thought— there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you, even if it means sacrificing heaven itself.

“Myah!” A hard shove on his arm and his baby’s babbling snapped him out of his trance. Satoru shifted his baby to his other hand, let out a questioning hum, and affectionately pinched his mochi-like cheeks.

“Hmm? You can’t be hungry, I—oooh,” a sheepish expression of realization appeared on his face, his blue eyes widened slightly as his baby glared at him. Then, chuckling like the goofball he was, Satoru patted him on his head to appease his grudge, “I haven’t fed you since this morning, eh?”

“Fwah!”

“Pfft! There, there… Me is sorry~ Now let me whip something up for you and mama, yeah?”

Now, he wouldn't claim to be the best chef, but he could certainly cook to save himself. Rolling up his sleeve, he went to the kitchen after leaving and stuffing his baby boy with a pacifier on his high chair.

“Hmmm, baby food for the minion and… congee? Yeah, congee should be good.”

Next task was feeding his already seething baby after he mixed together his baby food. He was a fussy eater—mostly with him, but surprisingly not so much with you (apparently, that's just his way of showing who he favors between his parents, heh). But when he managed to get the food in, with every spoonful, his son’s smile gradually widened, and so did his happiness.

Satoru thought then that he was the cutest thing he had ever created. His son was clearly a mini-him, but his reactions were definitely so you.

“Is it tasty? It is, isn’t it?” he cooed with baby voice, earning a delightful giggle in response from his son. Pushing his luck, he added with a suggestive grin, “Papa is the best, isn’t he?”

“Bwah...” The joyful expression on his baby's face faded instantly, dissolving into an unamused pout, prompting Satoru to righteously click his tongue.

“Why are you so against me?!”

After he was done with his fill, Satoru picked your baby up to the master bedroom to bring you something to eat. Seated on the opposite edge of the bed, he silently adored your sleeping form once again.

Right at that moment, the baby in his arms wriggled, reaching out for you. Acting on a sudden impulse, he put him on the bed, facing you.

“Now, go to mama, would you?” he whispered gently, grinning and giving his bum a light pat. “Go!”

Your son was also Gojo Satoru’s son, therefore he was an adept crawler even at barely seven months old. With remarkable agility, the little soldier steadily moved towards you, his diapers jiggling with each motion. He stopped right in front of your face, clearly recognizing you as his mother.

And your husband swore that even his logic-driven heart melted at the sight of your cute baby suddenly leaned in and clumsily smooched your nose.

Simply just the two most treasured loves of his life.

“Mm?” you let out a soft grunt, feeling the dryness in your throat as you cracked your eyes open, surprised to find yourself face-to-face with your baby. “Oh… why are you here? Don’t get too close…”

“He’ll be fine.” Satoru picked your son up, placing him on his knee and steadying him with one arm. Having moved next to you on the bed, he brushed hair from your forehead. “What about you, hmm? Feeling better?”

Your eyebrows creased into a frown. “Yeah, I think, but more than that, Satoru, I’ve told you, don’t let him—”

“Yes, yes, sweetheart. He won’t get sick, look, he’s as healthy as he can be~” and to make a point, he turned his baby over and lightly smacked his bottom, prompting a whimper from the little one and a gasp from you.

“Don’t spank him!”

“Ehh? Then can I spank you instead?”

“Satoru, you’re a little piece of—!”

Just you and him, as well as the little treasure that was your son. This little family was enough reason to live. To win.

And Gojo Satoru once again thought, that being the strongest didn’t really mean that much anymore because with his world in his hands, nothing else matters.

Epilogue

“You’re so silly, why did you buy so many?” you grumbled at the sight of three different brands of cold medicine your husband displayed in front of you. “One is enough, do you want me to overdose?”

Satoru snickered. “Don’t blame me, blame your kid. He’s the one picking all of them.”

You totally didn’t get what he meant at all, but yeah, your husband was the silliest human ever and that’s that.

“Hey, don’t you think it’s a bit smelly here?” Satoru suddenly asked, wearing a quizzical expression.

You took a sniff of the air, glancing at your baby blinking innocently and sitting calmly on your husband, and a realization struck you. “Uh, Satoru...”

Following your gaze, as if sensing an omen, Satoru hastily scooped up his son, letting out a bewildered gasp as he felt a slight wetness where the baby had been sitting on him.

“Did he just poo on me?!”

[kitkatscabinet]

Don't feed him he'll come back (2)

simon riley x neighbour! reader

summary: The ghost that lives in your apartment is a solitary man, people tend to stay out of his way, giving him a wide berth. You can't help but think he seems a little bit lonely, cue pestering him with bad jokes and food.

word count: 1.3k

A/N: Simon's POV of events. Find part 1 here. Part 3 here 18+ nsfw themes

Simon’s not entirely sure what to make of his pretty neighbour who fattens him up with their cooking and has a penchant for bad jokes that might outshine even him. From the moment he’d caught you staring with wide eyes he’d expected wariness, or outright fear, those were the typical responses. He hadn’t expected you to force a tray of pasta bake into his hands and then promptly disappear before he could get a word in. 

It’s a bit ridiculous, but the random act of kindness set his teeth on edge, enough that he’d even suspected foul play briefly. Hunger and logic eventually won out over his paranoia and Simon devoured the tray embarrassingly fast. He’s not quite sure how to face you so he simply leaves the tray outside your door and assumes that will be that. 

Except it’s not. For some reason you’ve taken it upon yourself to feed him, leaving an array of dishes from dinners to snacks. Apart from an initial note inquiring into allergies you adapt his diet on experience, taking note of what he does and doesn’t seem to enjoy. 

He doesn’t know how to get you to stop, nor does he really want you to. Not when he’s become entirely too reliant on you feeding him, eagerly awaiting each new dish with the excitement of a hyperactive toddler. 

Price says he’s got a crush, which is just absurd, the only thing he knows about you is your name. And that your left cheek has a dimple when you smile, and that you love your cat more than anything and that-

He doesn’t have a crush. 

Then the elevator breaks. It breaks with only you and him inside and instead of panicking like he expected, you only seemed mildly annoyed for a few seconds before you turned to him with a conspiratorial grin. “A bear walks into a bar and says give me a whiskey and… cola. Why the big pause? Asks the bartender. The bear shrugged. I’m not sure, I was born with them.”

Simon’s a little floored and it’s probably only his shock that prevents him from laughing because dammit, that was better than some of his. What shocks him even more is that you aren’t deterred from his silence. If anything, you seem to take it as a personal challenge and your eyes glint in determination. 

It’s both a mixture of the jokes and you’re adorable determination that finally pulls a chuckle from his lips and Simon will forever remember the way your face absolutely lit up at the noise. 

It’s not until he provides a joke of his own before ducking into the safety of his apartment that he briefly thinks Price may have been onto something. He staunchly pushes that thought away but then you start leaving jokes with the food and he has to admit he’s in a little bit of trouble. 

You wrangle his number from him (not that he resisted very hard) and then you wrangle him into your apartment and you make him watch as you flit around your kitchen in order to feed him. 

His next deployment comes at exactly the right time and Simon is prepared to spend the months away getting over you. Except this doesn’t happen because you send him a joke every day without fail, not even deterred when he rarely responds. 

You send a selfie of you and your cat and Simon stares far longer than is appropriate. He’s dreamt of you before, both innocently and not so. For some reason, the distance makes this worse and Simon wakes hard and aching for you more often than not. 

(Johnny walks in on him with his hand in his pants staring at a picture of you once and neither of them can look at each other for days. He thinks this is preferable to the shit-eating grins Johnny throws his way now.)

For the first time in his life, Simon’s desperate to get back from deployment to the empty apartment he barely considers his home. The empty white walls and space not seeming as depressing when he knows you’re waiting for him just across the hall. Waiting to fill the dark void in his chest that grows when he loses access to your smile. 

For the first time in his life, Simon doesn’t want to leave his apartment. Each time Price calls him away from your presence starts to weigh on his soul more and more. It’s getting harder and harder to stop being Simon, to put on the mask and be the Ghost when all he can think about is you. 

It all comes to a head nearly nine months after he'd initially met you. As much as he tries to ignore the way his heart sings in your presence and aches in your absence Simon can’t really deny how he feels about you anymore. 

You pull him from his dangerous train of thoughts when you plop down next to him on the couch. Not exactly a new move in of itself but even then he can’t help the way he shivers at the feel of your arm against his skin. 

If asked Simon wouldn’t be able to tell you a single plot point of the movie you’d put on, not when his mind was running a mile a minute and he was trying not to smell your hair like a creep. 

He tenses a little when you tip against him but doesn’t push you away. Instead, he can’t help but smile softly down at you as he watches you fall deeper and deeper into the clutches of sleep. Awe and adoration in his eyes as one of his hands lightly stroked your cheek, his other arm wrapping around you to pull you closer to his chest. 

You’d wormed your way into his heart months ago with all your stupid jokes and your insistence on looking after him. Not once had you ever asked for anything in return, you even seemed offended at the implication. 

He wasn’t stupid enough to let you in on his feelings, not when every time he left you could end up being his last. Simon had once accidentally caught you crying over your brother, a soldier like him, though not as lucky. Your brother was dead and buried and Simon saw the toll it took on you years later even when you tried to hide it. 

You were the sun. You were light and everything that was good in this world, saw the good in him, and Simon refused to be the potential reason that light was snuffed out. 

He wouldn’t do that to you. But Simon wasn’t completely selfless, so he held you in his arms as he slept, letting himself imagine a life where you could be together. A life where he got to come home to you and your stupid fat cat, his apartment no longer in use and he’d hold you just like this as you slept. 

This wasn’t that life, but Simon still let himself pretend it was, just for a little bit. Because Simon couldn’t deny it any longer, he loved you, was in love with you. And for that, he had to leave before he ruined you.

Tags: @cooliofango @innercollectivecomputer

[millerscoffee]

Hello!! 🤍 I was wondering if you could write something where Joel is the reader’s college professor, and then Prof. Miller INSISTS that reader comes over to his home for tutoring assistance, (because of failed tests or bad essays), and then finally coaxes her into letting him have his way with her.

hi nonnie! here it is! i hope you enjoy 💖

extra credit

6.2k | joel miller x afab!reader (professor!joel au)

rating: 18+ MDNI

warning: professor!joel au, age gap (joel is 46, reader is 21), soft!dom joel, pining, consensual sex, pet names (darlin', doll, baby), oral (f receiving), face riding, fingering, piv (unprotected, wrap it folks), squirting, joel spitting over the reader's ass for 0.5 seconds (OOPS IDK???), a pretty dress with easy access, hints of after care, spoiler: honestly prof. miller could've told reader to just do the paper in a different format but – that's the point 🤭

When you picked your major, English was a necessary credit needed to achieve your goals.  It wasn’t your strong suit, but you weren’t one to quit just because you were bad at it.  So far you were coasting through, getting a mix of good and bad grades in your English Lit class when the last essay before finals was presented.

Among the crowd in Professor Miller’s lecture hall, you typically sat in the front.  He hands out papers, hovering by your desk.  Giving you a look of disapproval, he places the grade face down.  You peel the pages in anticipation, a sense of dread falling over you when you scan the big, red mark of failings.  “Shit,” you say to yourself.  That was it.  That was the grade that was the defining factor of whether or not you had to retake this course.  You use the side of your hand to wipe sneaky tears in falling.  You failed.  Doing your best to keep it together, you’re not sure you even heard the rest of the lecture from the possibilities running through your mind.  What were you to do?  How would you recover?

Class was over before you knew it.  The sounds of bags zipping and feet stepping, you stayed seated until you were able to look over to Professor Miller.  Dressed in black slacks, a brown button-up with leather shoes.  His hair was slick, the slightest bit of salt and pepper patched at his sideburns.  He looked like he had it all figured out, and that struck a nerve.  A feeling of jealousy that he knew what he was doing, and you obviously did not.

Professor Miller calls your name when the class is emptied, and you sniffle, standing up to straighten your skirt.  Your manicured nails pick up your essay as you walk over in an attempt to hand it to him.  “I guess you want this back,” you hold your full bottom lip between your teeth.

“Did you read the material?”  Professor Miller inquires, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.  His voice is so dark and honied in comparison to his scowl.  Proving not to judge a book by its cover.  The irony.

“Well, I did, but… I struggle with this stuff.  Predicates and imagery?  I’d rather be learning about biology.  But I need this course, you know.  And I…,” you swallow hard.  God, the last thing you want is to embarrass yourself in front of your teacher.  He doesn’t know you, out of the hundreds of people he teaches – how could he possibly even remember your name?

“Hey,”  Professor Miller takes his glasses off, putting them on the table.  He looks as concerned as you are over it and crosses his arms.  Keeps his distance.  “It happens, you know.  There are things we can do to accommodate.  You’re very bright, I’d hate to see you fail.  You have options.  I can’t let you rewrite the paper, but I could tutor you for your final.  Another option is getting a student tutor, but it’s rare.  You know the workload of this university.  Not a lot of people are willing to sacrifice their precious time.”

“And you are?”  You look up at him with grateful, bright eyes and he loves it.  The praise just from your stare alone is cause for him to clear his throat.

“Listen, for someone like you, I believe it is important to help.  You just need a little more time understanding what you’re doing, is all.  I’m not in my office for the rest of the weekend, though.  You’d have to come by my house…,”  he watches those pretty eyes widen again, and that makes a smirk fall over his greying features, “if that’s okay, of course.  If it’s not, we could work something else out.”

You think about it.  You’ve never had a teacher invite you over, much less someone who looked the way he did.  Though, that was neither here nor there.  His lips formed words you couldn’t even pay attention half the time in hearing.  Maybe that was part of the reason why you were failing in the first place.  But you needed to pass, and if he could help you – and was so kind enough to do it in the first place, you should jump at the first opportunity.

“Okay.  Is there a particular time you’d like me to be there?”

“Are you busy tonight?”

What the fuck. That makes your heart race.  Tonight?  Tonight?!  Ton–

“Tonight… tonight is good.”  How did you even form the words?

“Perfect,” he started, bending down to write his address on a sticky note – his cologne wafts in your direction, and you clamp your legs shut reflexively.  “Here’s my address.  7 o’clock.”

“Seven.  Okay… thank you, Professor Miller.”

“Please, call me Joel.”  His teeth gleamed in a smile, and his personality shined through it.

A personality you didn’t get to see too often from your position behind a desk.

Shit.

---

According to your phone, he didn’t live very far from campus, and you were able to walk to his house without breaking too much of a sweat.  You decided on a black dress, although it was a casual one, that paired nicely with your sneakers.  It had buttons down the front with a relaxed collar.  Your bag slung over your shoulder when you knocked on his door, a nervousness fluttering in your stomach.  It was such a weird thing, meeting your professor in his home.  Much less having him request you call him by his first name.

Your knees all but buckled when you saw him on the other side of the door.

He looks… young in his jeans.  His t-shirt stretched over the broadness of his shoulders, but it’s still loose enough that it doesn’t look ill-fitted.  His stomach, soft at the bottom.  You flash him a smile, but internally you’re reeling over how casual he looks.  You’d never seen him like this, not even during those school meetings that were informal.

“Hey, you,” he’s bright, too.  Charismatic as he invites you into his home.  Takes your bag, lets you take your shoes off until you’re in your socks.  His words hit your stomach, how easy it is for him to talk to you like you’re the brightest sunflower.  What’d you even do to deserve it?

“Hi, Prof– uh, Joel,” you titter, taking in the curated decor of his home.  It was sophisticated, yet a little cheesy at the same time.  His alumni cover his walls and a mix of pictures.  Some with a couple of young girls you assumed were his children.  He has children, you swallow.

“Wasn’t too hard to find this place, right?  When I moved here, I wanted to make sure I wasn’t too far – not much of a mornin’ person,” Joel laughs and you do, too.  Fuck, this feels so easy.  But it’s nothing – it’s nothing.

What you don’t pick up on right away is his open body language.  He places your bag on his couch and you follow him like a puppy – he likes that.  You look so soft under the sienna hue of his lights, your hair falling into place naturally.  Plump and ripe for the taking.  Of course, he meant it when he said he’d tutor you, but the air got thick the moment the door was shut behind the two of you.  What were you doing to him?

Joel’s large frame walks over to his bar cart, turning on his heel to face you, “Interested?”

“Huh?” You blink and he laughs again at your deer caught in the headlights expression.  You’re cute.

“Do you drink?”

“Oh, uh… water would be nice.”

“Water it is,” Joel’s pleasant, gesturing his hand for you to follow him.  And you do – that puppy he was coming to know, right to his kitchen.  You study the marble countertops, the farmhouse style kitchen sink.

“So, tutoring,” he starts, taking a glass from the cupboard, he fills it with filtered water before handing it to you – you thank him with a nod, “I was thinking we could look at your paper, and then go over how to fix things in the future?”  When you take the water from him, your fingers graze.  The first sign of contact, your head continues to nod unthinkingly, but all that scorches your mind is how his skin feels.

“That sounds good,” you overcompensate, shoving the ideas from your mind.  He was your teacher, and it was easy to get back into the mode of why you were here.

Joel’s expression doesn’t change much, still the same grin with hooded eyes and wrinkles at his forehead.  The two lines between his brow.  “Alright, well I have it on the coffee table.  Let’s get settled on the couch, and we’ll get started, okay?”

So you agree.  You take your glass of water and follow him back to the couch where everything was set up – your paper, his laptop.  All of the correction marks in your face as you sit down.  You take another sip of water before placing it down on the coaster.  You dread it, you really do.  Going over your failures?  You scrunch your nose up to yourself, but Joel notices when you’re both settled on the cushions.

“You know, Voltaire said, ‘perfect is the enemy of good’,”  Joel bends his knee on the couch, thigh pressing into the cushion to turn to you and it causes the couch to shift.  The quote makes you giggle a little to yourself, and you shake your head.  “What?” His eyebrow quirks in curiosity.

“Voltaire also popularised the story of Newton’s apple, doesn’t make it true.”

“Huh…,” Joel trailed off, keeping his eye on you – his tongue skating over his bottom lip in thought.  You were so quick all he could really do was laugh, and that made your shoulders relax.  Makes you feel more in control and comfortable to laugh at yourself.  “You got an answer for everything?”

“Not everything.  See this,” you pick up your paper, thumbing over the ink of corrections the man on the couch made and you shrug, “I don’t really understand why this got marked wrong.”  Joel’s gaze flashes over your mouth when your teeth press into the plushness of your bottom lip – he should be given some damn award for having so much self control around you.

“Wrong format.  This citation works for your research papers, right?”  He nods with you before leaning in closer, that damn cologne coming back in full force just like earlier in the day.  You all but freeze when his warm touch graces you again – this time, fingers tracing over where you’re holding the paper.  “Oh,” your voice is soft, a bit of disappointment pangs at your ribs.  You were so busy you didn’t even realise that was the majority of the issues you had.

“So… it’s not really what I wrote, it’s how I wrote it?  You asked if I read the material?”

“Exactly.  If you read the syllabus, you’d see the required format.  Listen, there are some ways for extra credit, I do think this is salvageable.”

You suddenly feel silly.

You did all that work, Professor Miller was kind enough to let you into his home, and it was all for some redundant formatting.  An open palm curls over your chin as you look at the paper in deep contemplation.

“I really fucked up,” you say, hushed in the space.

“You didn’t fuck anything up,” you manage an exhale of amusement at the sound of your teacher curse.  You shift your gaze to look at him.  The curls at the nape of his neck, the way his t-shirt dropped enough so you could see his neck, his chest.  The freckles that splayed over his aged skin.  “You just needed someone to tell you what to do.”

That was the loaded statement.  And a pointed one, it seems.  Someone to tell you what to do.  And Joel wanted to be that person?  Your eyebrows raise for a flash, thumbing over the paper.

“That would be too easy,” you scratch at your neck idly before going for the glass of water, sipping in contemplation. “...I mean, I should’ve known better.”

Joel takes the glass from you, offering himself a sip of your water and it stuns you speechless, doing your best not to convey it.  Maybe he did that just because this was his house.  That must’ve been it.  He was comfortable, but goddamn – the eye contact he gave you when he swallowed the liquid.

It felt intentional.

He watches your features, vague as they were, in what to do next.  He honestly wasn’t so sure what he was doing either.  What?  I know how to give you extra credit, sweetheart.  Too forward, too boastful, too… cheap.  You deserved better than that.  He saw you in class, how hard you were on yourself.  He talked to your other teachers, how well you were doing in your other classes.  He felt for you.  And he was a bit lost in your eyes.  You were all too pretty, too brilliant to be dimmed down to a fuck for extra credit.  Joel could see that.  He wasn’t even sure what he was thinking, you had him distracted.  You threw him off without even trying.  The plight within him grew stronger as he handed back the glass.

“You’re too hard on yourself,” Joel straightens up, his hand cups over your forearm in a way that’s understanding, but also makes goosebumps rise.  You look down to see where you connect and he pulls away slightly.  “Sorry, I–,” “No, it’s okay,” you agree, “It’s okay.  You’re right.”

“It’s just, I see hundreds of bright, beautiful young people every year, but none of them have stood out to me like you.”  He can’t believe the words that are coming out of his mouth.  The candor, the nerve.  A filthy old man, that’s all he was in the eyes of someone as sweet and innocent as you were.  Even if you happened to be experienced – god, what was he thinking?!

Joel clears his throat, shifting a bit in his seat, but he sees the way your lips part, but your eyes don’t show an ounce of shock or distain.  They look soft, and… willing.  You know that is because the pull at your core feels too strong to think of anything else.  You look down at his left hand, making sure you’re not dreaming.  He’s not married?  You’d casually look at his hands from time to time during class and ignored the ache it gave you, but this?  So close?  Backed by the glow of his house?  It was so different from the boys you were used to.  In their dorms or disgusting apartments.  It smelled as nice as it looked.  You realise you’re not speaking, but the way you lean into him says more than you really ever could.

“I don’t know what to say,” shyly, you touch your knuckles to your cheek, “you should teach the guys that go here how to chat with someone.”

It’s a mutter, but not to yourself.  You drink one more mouthful of what you were offered before putting it back on the coaster.  Honestly, any distraction was welcome to defer from the ever-present density in the room.

“Those guys don’t know what they’re talkin’ about anyway.  I know I didn’t at that age.”

There.  The topic right in front of both of your faces.

“How old at you, anyway?”  You inquire, thumb mindlessly circling over your knee.  Joel tracks it, licking over his lips as he answers.  “Forty-six.  You?”

“Twenty-one.”

Fuck.  Fuck fuck fuck.

There’s this standstill, as if you’re both in the air together looking at each other in slow motion.  How will this land?  What are you both even doing here like this?

“I’m sure your boyfriend takes good care of you,” Joel’s eyes, round and bright brown, get lost in yours – the way your breath hitches, the shift of your thighs on his sofa.  He wondered what you tasted like, what sounds you make when these boys who don’t know what they’re doing with their tongue attempt to eat you out.  Do you fake it?  Do you give it to them straight?  Neither of you had a drink from that bar cart in the corner of the room, but somehow you’ve become closer – and more intoxicated.

“Don’t have one,” you respond softly, orbs flickering to the set of plush lips that grow more red the longer you let the tension build, “what about you?  N-no partner?”

Your attempt in confidence wavering the longer he stares at you.  It’s like staring back into the sun and you have your brows knit together until the tug of muscle makes your forehead hurt – smoothing them apart with the twitch of muscle fibers.

“No partner,” Joel’s hand settles on your thigh and you can’t hold it back; you gasp.  But you do something he doesn’t anticipate, or well, you don’t do something: you don’t pull away.

How did you two get to the topic, anyhow?

How did you end up straddling his lap, for that matter?

It’s within six eager seconds that his hand, hot and rough, touches your soft skin, and you – green, you – fervent, throw all inhibitions aside and lunge.  It’s more fluid than you realise, and his hands (both now) grip the backs of your bare thighs and you whimper at the sensation of him squeezing you.  Your wetness against your cotton panties grows from the kneading alone.  No, absolutely not, the boys back in the dorms didn’t know how to do this.

It takes an even shorter time for your mouths to meet.  He’s first to kiss, and he tastes like coffee and his dinner, and the faintness of a cigarette – maybe early in the day?  You couldn’t tell, your head was swimming too deep in now to come back from.

And although his calloused fingers roll patterns into your soft skin, he’s just as willing.  Just as desireful and you can feel it beg to be set free at the seam of his jeans.  His tongue skirts against yours, hips rolling up the second yours tempt to roll down; causing you both to moan in each other’s mouths.

It gets feverish after that.  All teeth, tongue, bite.

You don’t want to stop, you don’t want to take a moment to breathe because fuck, that could stop things.  That could make him realise what is happening.

But that only is another item to your list of naivety.

Because Joel, he’s ready.  His masculine arms wrap around your frame to lift you up just enough so he can get out of his fucking jeans that he now regrets wearing.  Shoulda been wearin’ sweats, but it’s effortless… eventually.  He hurriedly pushes the thick fabric down until they hit at his thighs and you’re pushed down onto his boxers that – holy fucking shit – leave nothing to the imagination.  “Joel, J-,” you pant between kisses, fingernails digging into the base of his neck, he pauses.  Pulls away, gets a good look at your face.

“Y’want this?” And goddamn, you can’t see yourself, but you imagine you look just as fucked out as he does.  On the cusp of every little fantasy he’s had about you from the moment you sat down behind that desk.

“I want this,” you repeat.  You weren’t sure exactly when the nerves subsided, maybe because all of the blood is now rushed at the apex of your thighs, but you mean it.

You want this.  You want Professor Miller.

“You got me,” his breath dances over your lips before guiding you back a bit, “here… I’m going to lie back, I want you to– I’ll show you.”  Your lips quirk up at the fact he’s so flushed he can’t even finish his sentence.

But that soon turns to you flushing when you realise his request.  “I – what?”

“No?”  Joel sits up on his elbows, looking over to you and you’re worried you’ve killed the mood.  It’s just, straddling his face?  Blood rushes to your cheeks.

“I’ve never done that… What if it’s bad?”  His eyes, reassuring, but a deep shade of black now beckons you.

“Darlin’, I think you’ll be a natural.  But I can teach you, if that’s what you want.”

You swallow, straddling his knees somewhere at the bottom of the couch and you think about it.

Joel, on the other hand, was living in a fantasy of teaching you things in and out of school.  Showing you how to make yourself feel good on his mouth – make you forget all about the essay that caused you grief today.  He leans over, pushing it under the couch out of view for good measure.

“Okay,” you agree, though nerves still flood you.  “Okay, you wanna take your panties off?”  You lick your lips at that, biting back another whimper that brought you to this predicament in the first place.  And you did – you wanted nothing more than to slip your underwear off and give into your pleasures.  His voice was deep, graveled with the prospect of him fucking you senseless on his couch and who were you to deny him that?

Who were you to deny yourself that, more importantly.

“Yeah,” doing as you say, you slip off your lace-trimmed undies and abandon them somewhere on your Professor’s floor.  “Fuck,” you mutter.  This was naughty.

“Already so good for me,” you weren’t even sure that Joel’s voice could get deeper, or more inviting, but it does.  You bite your lip and oblige when he pats his chest.  Going over to him, you straddle just above his broad shoulders, and he’s almost out of view with him like this – somehow making it easier to just feel what he could do to you.

Joel on the other hand?  All he can do is see the outline of your glistening core from the shadowed tent you’ve made of your dress and his groans are muffled slightly from the fabric, “Fuckin’ Christ,” he wants to devour you, but he takes his time instead.

Peppers kisses along your thighs that make you claw the armrest, causes you shiver at the contact and you can’t believe this is happening.  “J-Joel,” you hesitate, but his hands are wrapped around your hips now, fingers digging into the breadth of your ass.

“Sit.”  Joel commands.

Oh, fuck.

You’re almost certain you’ll break skin at your lips from biting down so hard, but you do as you’re told.  Anchoring down, it’s subtle at first – the brushing of his facial hair against your folds, his chin prying you apart.  Then, it’s incredibly palpable.  His lips are the first thing you feel as they press and kiss over your middle and as you shudder it only makes your muscles sink deeper on him.  You’re the first to moan, and then Joel, and his mouth is open when he invites you inside it.

“Oh, my god,” thighs shaking, Joel flattens his tongue under the hood of your clit, a body part you were certain hadn’t been touched by anyone else but yourself.  There was no time to compare, the white hot pleasure coursed through your veins and he took his time with it, too.  Made sure he was teasing you, his tongue dipping inside your entrance, as sloppy as it felt.  “Hmmn,” you can’t speak, forearms resting on the armrest now as your head hangs between your shoulders and his fingers make pliable work of your asscheeks.  Pushing you down, using your hips to move back and forth against his mouth – like he’s using you while you use him.

The air is thick under your dress, sticky and humid, as Joel swirls this tip of his devilish tongue in the most astonishing circles you’ve ever experienced, and you know it’s because he has more experience than you do.  Has so much to teach you, if you let him.  Your mouth hangs open as you try to inhale, but it’s just too much.  Especially with the way he thumbs into your stomach, then your pubic bone – lifting it just slightly to expose your clit to him.  An angle, not even you have found yourself.

It almost feels like too much.  It’s intentional, the way his tongue flicks over that bundle of nerves right at the top of your cunt.  Delicious, deliberate.  Two fingers greet your entrance and it startles you, the way he’s rubbing your hole with his two fingers in slow circles before pressing them where you want them most.

“Tell me you want it,” you hear, muffled and fucked, and you shiver at the slightest bit of lack of contact.

“I want it, I want your fingers – please!”

And that seems to send him over the edge of how much he’s willing to hold back because he’s exactly where he was.  Mouth on your clit, but fingers skillfully pressing inside of you and you don’t know how long you’ll last.  Not with the pads of his fingers tapping in the perfect tempo against the ridged spot inside you.

That’s when a weird sensation comes over you.  A pressure, you felt like you had to pee and your insides pulled in more trying to keep it all contained.  “I–,” you start, but it happens so suddenly.  Your orgasm rushes through you, convulsing and almost falling over the edge of the couch, you dig your fingernails into the upholstery.  Your eyes roll back, and fuck, so are your hips.  Unable to stop yourself using Joel’s mouth to keep you exactly right there.  Pleasure pricks your skin, it feels like every cell is ignited – but you jump when you feel a rush of fluid come out of you.  The pressure rebounding out, then rippling pleasure back inside you.  Joel fucks you with his tongue and fingers until he feels you calm down.

“W-what, what… did I do?” You pant, and Joel is groaning, too.  He lifts your hips to get lungfuls of oxygen, so dizzy on you and you notice how soaked his pair of fingers feel on your skin.  Sits you down on his chest and you can see his face finally.  Can see his mouth parting, gasping as his eyes are hooded and so gone.  Curls stick to his forehead, his shirt a dampened colour at the collar.  You blush heavily, embarrassed because you aren’t even sure what that was.  Did he hate that, was that weird?

“C’mere,” he growls with gritted teeth and sits up, the tables turning instantly.  Joel’s stripping his shirt off, kicking every last bit of the bottom half he had on to be abandoned on the floor.  His fingers remove the buttons, but he can’t really get them – those fingers too big for the buttons.  “Here,” you whisper, an intense feeling of lust falling over any self-conscious self talk you had.  You undo the top of your dress one button at a time until your breasts are released from your bra – you moan when he has no problem spilling your tits from the satin, nipples in stiff peaks from your orgasm.  And everything else.

“You know what you did?”  Joel asks, taking both of your nipples between his fingers from each hand.  You moan, lifting your hips and he bites his lip when he sees your cunt front under your dress.  “What was it?”  You ask, curiously.  Innocently.

“You squirted f’me, baby,” he slurs, thumbing over your clit now as he gets a good look at you and he’s drunk on you.  His cock throbbing against your thigh, he taps it against your skin before realising what he needed.

 “Fuck,” Joel mutters and you can tell by the tone it’s not just at your appearance.  “What is it?”  You inquire, eyebrows knit.

“Gotta get a condom,” you hear him mutter, getting onto one foot and you stop him.  “No.  No.  I want to feel you.  It’s okay, I don’t get pregnant–” well that sentence isn’t exactly how you mean for it to come out, but your mind is mush, your body feels boneless underneath him, and he chuckles at that.  At how gone your brain is.  Here he was, thinking he was the only one.  “Okay, okay, darlin’.  I believe ya.”

And really, maybe he should be using more discretion.  But he can’t get the feeling of you out of his head.  You were everywhere.  His mouth, his glistening chest and beard.  He takes you by the hips then, sitting back to flip you on your hands and knees with your help and you moan at the sensation.  Joel looks down at you, groaning of your ass in the air, pushing back for his cock.  “Such a needy little thing, now,”  it’s as if someone else is talking.  This isn’t the Professor Miller you know.  This man has layers and you’re first in line to know exactly what that entails.

Joel takes the base of his cock, bobbing it as it throbs alive in his hand and runs through your slick with the head of it.  “So fucking wet.  Beginning to think you’ve been wanting this for as long as I have.”

You bite a whine and he can see the back of your head nodding as you crane your neck back enough to make eye contact, but his eyes fall down to your ass pressing eagerly on his cock.  Doing your best to press him inside yourself.

“Go ahead,” he slaps his cock on your folds and you mewl at the wet sounds coming from it.  “Take my cock.”

And take, you do.  Joel holds it out for you, keeps it steady and you push back slow on his cock.  Clenching around the head and he growls at that.  “You dirty thing.  This how you fuck all your teachers?”  It burns your skin, pushing your face into your arm and you shake your head.

“Words.” He warns.

“Just you!  Just you, Joel!”

“Just me,” he parrots, hissing when you shift back and you both twitch and groan when you take him to the hilt of you.  It was so thick, stretching you out until you felt split apart from him.  “Just me, show me then.  Show me how you fuck me.”

You bite into your arm then, choking on a sob as you push your ass back over and over.  Your cunt taking him deep like this, it almost feels like too much and not enough at once.  Torturously slow against the spongy spot again

 It felt so amazing taking him yourself, but it was like an itch you couldn’t scratch on your own.  The tapping of his balls against your clit was too far apart in tempo, his cock speared inside you at a pace that didn’t have quite the same leverage as Joel did behind you.

His hands busied themselves on your ass, peeling the muscle apart – pressing his digits to leave bruises and just when you think it’s too much to take, he gives you something else.  His spit falling from his lips right to the velvet of your asshole.  You shudder and flutter around him when it falls to where you’re connected.  Your fingertips grip the other armrest now, cheek resting atop of your hand and you can’t do it yourself anymore.  “Fuck me, Joel!  Professor Miller, please!”

“Shit – you know where to push, don’t you?”  Joel’s wide hands slide up your sides, keeping them locked in place as he pulls your hips to him at first.  Using your whole lower body, your head hands doing your best to keep yourself up but you’re so close when he uses you like this.  When he picks up the pace and you let your head fall on his throw pillow – your screams of desire are targeted into the plush cushion.

Joel is bound up in amazement behind you.  How you feel around him, your gorgeous figure in front of him as he gives you every bit of power he can now.  His hips hammering into you, but with the right amount of speed – not too fast, not too slow.  The sound of his balls slapping against your clit is faster now, and the difference is what you focus on.  The way it sounds.  Joel feels you tighten, pulse around his own pulse and he has to say something to you.  Has to talk you through it, even if he’s not sure you’ll like it.

“So fuckin’ good for me,” he drapes his body over your back, huffing into your ear as the controlled weight of him pushes your ass down just enough to make your thighs shake.  You are soaked, sticky against his abdomen, between your thighs.  Over your own stomach.  You move your face so you can feel his skin closer against your.  His lips staying on your cheekbone, he grunts and nods.

“That’s it, fuckin’ take it.  I know you can take it.  Those shaky fuckin’ thighs better hold on.”

You feel yourself coil and he is quick to sooth over your hips with his palms.

“Relax, baby.  That’s it, that’s good, darlin’.  Shh, easy.  Do you feel that heat?”

You nod hopelessly, the buildup was so strong you couldn’t do anything but curl your fingers into fists and whimper repeatedly.

“Give into that heat.  Come for me, I know you can be so good for me.  Good for – fuck – fuck.  Good for my cock,” Joel groaning in your ear makes you flutter uncontrollably, and he wastes no time in wrapping his arm around your front, rolling quick circles at the split of your cunt, right at your clit.  “Milkin’ my fuckin’ cock like that, don’t stop.  Don’t fuckin’ stop,” he grits, and you’re gasping.

Clawing at the pillow, head craning up and back as you come.  Mouth gaped, Joel takes advantage – pouring his tongue into it, swirling and drinking you while his cock bottoms into you repeatedly until he can’t take it anymore.  You feel too good.  Perfect, even.

“Joel!” Your whine is high, as your wet folds take his merciless shoves.  “You feel so good, youfeelsogood!”  Your lip quivers, jerking in aftershocks that feel a lot like multiple orgasms.  You aren’t even sure how you feel, but he knows he has to pull out.  So he tells you, rough and pained against your ear.  He doesn’t want to any more than you do.  But as soon as he does, that reward feels just as sweet.

He exhales roughly through his nose, a popping sound filling the room when he pulls out.  Not even needing to touch himself to spill himself over the small of your back.

“Fuck,” he’s out of breath, grunting, and doing his best not to collide into you.  You’re still, the nape of your neck dews with sweat and you can feel it stick to your dress instantly.

“Stay there,” Joel pulls away, and you sit up on your elbows now that you’re fully flat and study his frame walk into the kitchen.

The back of him is just as irresistible as the front.

You hum hungrily at the landscape of his back.  But you do as you say, you don’t move a muscle.  When he comes back, you take note of the splotches of his chest, his neck red and sheened with sweat, too.  He’s just as disheveled.  The paper towel he comes back with is rough against your lower back, but tickles more than anything else.

Makes you wriggle and laugh.

“What did I say?”  He threatens, but his voice is much more smoother and tender.  More playful.  More like what you’re used to.

“Tickles!”

“You must endure it if you know what’s good for you.”  he’s finished enough for you to roll over.  You pull your tits back into your bra with another low laugh, but to yourself at how exposed and a mess you’re sure you look on your professor’s couch.

“I think I like that threat.”

“No more,” and that makes your heart drop.  He must be able to see the disappointed look on your face, so he rephrases his sentence in an instant.  “No more tonight.”

“Maybe I should be teaching you the importance of ambiguity.”

“Next lesson.”

Your heart soars just as fast as it dropped.

---

While you slip on your sneakers, you turn your heel to him – bag in tow.  “Listen, I don’t want this to be why I passed.”

“It’s not – it won’t be,”  Joel chews up the space between you – his hand pressing against the doorframe that your delicate hand adorns at the knob, fully dressed himself, now.  “You will pass by your own volition.  I meant it – you are bright.  You won’t let anybody take that from you, will you?” You knew that wasn’t a question as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, but you still swayed your head ‘no’.

“Not even me.”  He whispers, pressing his lips to your forehead before dropping his arm – allowing you to leave.  And that’s exactly what he’ll let you believe.

“Especially not you.”  You smile, leaning up to kiss his lips – your flavour lingers over his facial hair and tongue.  Your panties in his pocket.

“Goodnight, Professor Miller.”

“Goodnight, doll.”

taglist: @cool-iguana – comment to be added!

[spread4marvel]

”Real” Man

hiii lovelies!!! so this is my first george weasley x reader story (yes i still write for loki), and i’m rlly excited to get into it soooo yeah send me some requests😚😚

Draco has the audacity to tell your boyfriend that he isn’t a “real man” after a gryffindor victory. George makes sure to vocalise how funny he finds this as he is pleasuring you later that same evening.

Warnings: Muggleborn Ravenclaw reader (for the plot), cursing, unprotected sex, praise kink, George in general, nicknames (love, sweet baby, pretty girl, sweetheart, lovebug), a little dry humping🤔??, anddd aftercare ofc!

Another crushing victory for Gryffindor against Slytherin. You noticed that every game you attended, George tried his hardest to impress you so you didn’t wander off back to whichever book you were reading at the time. You find it cute but it seems Malfoy did not. Quickly you fought your way through the crowd to get on the field where the pair were arguing. When you finally managed to get there, you caught the ending segment of the argument.

“I think you’re right Freddie! I think little Malfoy’s upset that he had the ‘hots’ for my girl and she chose me!” George laughed out mockingly, causing the other surrounding players and students to laugh as well. Malfoy clenched his fist by his sides as his jaw tightened when Fred continued. “Well it was a bloody obvious choice George, truly.” Fred joined back, causing the twins to snicker together as Draco finally managed to bark back a reply.

“Oh yeah Weasley? Clearly your father never taught you how to be a real man. I bet you can’t even pleasure that sorry little mudblood of yours!” Malfoy cackled. George didn’t say another word, that deranged look on his face as he walked closer to Draco is what caused most of his teammates to begin to hold him back for everyone’s sake. Even you interjected at this point. “C’mon George let the stupid git talk.” You tried. Placing a hand on his surprisingly muscular forearm that you simply adored as you tried to persuade him.

He noticed how Malfoy tensed when you were around, and he smirked devilishly at the new upperhand.

“You’re so right love, ‘m think I just need a kiss and i’ll be good as new again.” He remarked playfully to you. His teammates finally releasing him as he stood there awaiting his kiss. You giggled and rolled your eyes, getting up on your tippy-toes due to the height difference that George relished in to plant a kiss to his cheek. His dopey grin grew wider but he was still very determined to ‘rub it in’ Malfoys face. “A real kiss, yeah?” He inquired, pulling you in by your waist and bending down slightly so you could give him a ‘real kiss’ directly in front of Draco.

He hummed obnoxiously as he finally pulled away from you, Malfoy beginning to turn on his heels with a loud huff as he and the rest of the Slytherins retreated in a hurry.

George chuckled mischievously as he finally gave you his undivided attention, his adrenaline still obviously coursing through him as the two of you began to walk back to the Gryffindor dorms together. (usually the two of you go back to the ravenclaw dorms but you don’t force him to walk up all those stairs on quidditch nights) George didn’t typically act like that. It was more Fred’s thing to be rude and crack a laugh from everybody around simultaneously. Clearly, your boyfriend’s twin had been rubbing off on him.

—————————————————————

George had you straddled on his lap on the edge of his bed as you cleaned up some of his minor wounds. At first, George despised this because he felt ‘weak’ having you clean him up but eventually he learned to adapt it as a “post game ritual.” On more calmer quidditch nights, you would have him read you a book or his latest assignment while you tended to him, but right now he was rambling on about Malfoy.

“I mean bloody hell! You can’t play like shit the whole game and then be mad when we win!” He complained, in which you hummed in agreement. “Stupid git, should’a seen the look on his face when Harry stole that snitch.” You giggled at his expression that was supposed to be imitating Malfoys face. The sound of your laughter fizzling all of his anger away as you finished tending to all of his little bruises.

You always ended this little ritual by kissing every mark you fixed, and he stared down at you lovingly as you began. “But you were amazing tonight love, I could hear ya’ cheering from all the way on the pitch.” George complimented. You smiled against his skin before placing another peck down his arms. You knew how much he adored hearing you scream for him. on and off the pitch. “‘m tried my best Georgie, y’know I don’t condone violence but you sure did look good yelling at Malfoy.” You mumbled against his skin, your ‘muggle accent’ under-toning your sentence as he smiled and pulled you closer on his lap. You could feel his hard-on begin to press into you as you mimicked your boyfriend’s grin back to him.

“think you missed a spot, sweetheart.” He remarked cockily as he pointed at an imaginary bruise on his lips. You giggled, causing him to laugh as well. “Oh how could I!” You exaggerated playfully in which he shrugged with a smug smirk.

You pulled him in by the back of his head. Your fingers intertwining in his ginger locks as he immediately began to desperately search your mouth. He resembled a starved man as he kept your lips connected to his. You barely had a moment to breathe before he was pulling you back in, loving how your warm mouth invited him so willingly to paradise each time.

Subconsciously, you bucked your hips against his clothed erection. You only realised that you were practically grinding on him when he groaned into your lips. “fuck pretty girl…” He murmured under his breath and your face flushed as you came to realisation on what you were doing. This wasn’t uncommon for you, you and George had been dating for the better half of a year and although you were insanely comfortable with him… you still managed to get flustered in moments like this. Although George didn’t mind it, in fact, he quite enjoyed the little noises you made whenever he whispered lewd little things in your ears at the worst of all times.

“aww, is someone getting shy? C’mon sweetheart, I can smell you.” He rasped, his voice a little breathless and you whimpered at his filthy words. He gently but firmly grabbed your hips and began to grind you against him. Chuckling as you whined and buried your face into his neck. “‘m need more, Georgie.” You whispered against his skin, planting gentle wet kisses to persuade him further. You could practically hear the grin in his voice. “Guess you deserve it, yeah? You were such a good girl f’ me today.” He murmured as he nipped playfully at your earlobe. You simply whimpered and nodded in response, not entirely trusting your voice not to croak.

His fingers began to fiddle with the waistband of your skirt, teasing you mercilessly. You desperately wanted to tell him to get on with it and stop being a tease… but you also wanted to be his good girl, his sweet little thing who takes what he gives her, his precious ravenclaw who lets him run wild. So all you did was whine. His grin only grew at your self control. “oh? Well this is quite new…” He murmured knowingly. You were about to retort something back, but then you felt his fingers dip under your skirt to rub your cunt through your panties. Immediately, he felt the wet patch on your undergarments and grinned up at you knowingly.

“Naughty little Ravenclaw…” He remarked playfully. Before you could process what was happening, he had you on your back with your hair splayed along his pillow in mere seconds. His bed reeked of his scent, and you simply adored it. He didn’t miss the skip of your heartbeat or the way you had a newfound hunger in your eyes as he effortlessly manhandled you, deciding to tuck that information into his back pocket for now.

George had simple plans for you tonight, but then he recalled Malfoys little ‘pleasure’ comment. Instead of teasing, he slithered his body up your own to press wet kisses along your jawline and neck instead. “What do you need, love?” He asked straightforwardly. This was odd, George normally drew this type of thing out of you until you were a whining mess. “Want you inside, George.” You hummed back, your voice wavering a little but remained true. He groaned against your warm skin before his usual grin returned.

“whatever you like, pretty baby.�� He granted as he planted a final kiss. That was one of those nicknames George used whenever he was being sweet, but you could tell his mind was a little aloof. You watched in adoration as he began to strip himself. Hastily tugging away his clothes and discarding them carelessly. You began to do the same, but George’s hand quickly caught yours and gave you a devilish smirk.

“Trying to rid me of all the fun are we? Let me take care of you, yeah?” He teased and you rolled your eyes in response. “Well get on with it!” You insisted, your patience from earlier dwindling thin. This granted you a look of defiance and a remarkably slow George peeling off your clothing one-by-one. Eventually, he couldn’t take the slow reveal and ripped the rest of your black skirt off, causing you to huff in annoyance.

“George! That was my favorite black skirt!” You scolded. You were quickly knocked off of your fit of anger when you felt a long finger slip into your sopping wet cunt. You whimpered almost instantly at the connection. “Doesn’t seem like you mind that much.” He confirmed with a grin, causing you to scoff and whine as he retreated his finger. He was eager tonight, always taking time to savor the taste of your juices as he sucked on his previously inserted digit. “Tasting perfect, love.” He complimented. To say George loved your taste, was an understatement. He relished in it, but tonight, tonight he had a primal urge to claim you.

You both groaned as he began to rub his tip up and down your soaking folds. Both of your eyes glued on the display before he fully slipped inside of you. Your head quickly retreated back to his pillow, eyes screwed shut as he gave you a moment to accommodate to his size. You had taken George many times before, and yet he still gave you this little moment to calm yourself. And yet, you still needed it.

You moaned as he began to move, starting with slow deep thrusts that made you head spin deliciously. He groaned as you clenched around him, his hands gripping your hips as he watched his cock disappear and reappear with each thrust. “Fuck love… you’re squeezing the life out of me down here.” He informed, followed by a sharp hiss when your legs wrapped around his waist and provided a new angle. With this new angle, he sped up his pace, his mesmerizing cock now drilling into you.

Your moans and other little noises were beginning to grow much louder. This seemed to motivate George as he abused the spot that elicited the prettiest noises from deep within you. “Doing so good love, so fuckin’ good for me.” He praised, his words slurring as his head rolled back to reveal his adam’s apple to you. The sight reminded you of sweet torture and it was simply maddening. “J-jus’ like that, feels so good Georgie please don’t stop!” You pleaded with him, no amount of money could pay George to stop as his grip on you grew brutal. He was sure to leave bruises whilst he pounded into you, his erect and long cock hitting the perfect spot within you as he overrode your senses.

You could feel that familiar knot beginning to grow unbearable at his intense pace. Your legs squeezing around his waist as you tried to keep yourself bounded to this world. Every time George fucked you like this it always left you in a floaty headspace. It was one of the few times your brilliant brain wasn’t hard at work, because it was much too occupied and overwhelmed with pleasure.

“You’re so close love I can feel it. So pretty like this baby, so fuckin’ beautiful.” He groaned, your hands flying from the clenched bedsheet to his shoulders as your fingernails dug into his muscular blades. This resulted in a new noise of pleasure from him that made you whimper in return. “Come for me sweetheart, c’mon sweet baby I need to feel you.” George rasped. His voice pulling an utterly filthy noise from you as the coil within you snapped and you came all over his large cock. He let out a guttural moan while he fucked you through your high, making sure to fulfill you whole as he felt himself begin to drawl close.

“Mmm, I-I’m getting their love. Where can I-…” His words trailed off as he couldn’t get enough of your pussy. You fit like a fucking glove around his erection and it was glorious to him. “Inside George please. Want it inside s’ bad.” You whimpered out breathlessly. Your pleas is what caused George to snap as he bottomed out inside of you. Groaning as he began to spill his seed. “Fuck…” He cursed, his cock painting your insides just as you had requested.

He lowered himself on you once he finished. He knew how much you loved his weight on you as the both of you collected your breaths while panting. George was the first to move, planting kisses all over your heated skin while he gently pulled out. “Did so good love, always so good for me.” He complimented. He quickly retrieved a warm washcloth and cleaned the two of you up. He could easily do it with magic, but George loved the intimacy this brought as he peppered kisses all over your body. You were astonished on how he complimented you like that even if you didn’t really do a thing that whole time, but he didn’t mind it. This was a day for you and your pleasure, (as well as his pride)

“I love you so much, love bug. Such a brilliant, bloody perfect, little witch.” He murmured as he finally finished cleaning you up. Joining you in the bed as he cuddled up behind you skin to skin, spooning your bare form. You smiled at the cheesy little nickname, it was corny, but something he always called you when you were overcome by sleep.

“‘m love you too, George. thank you…” you murmured back, sleep already evident in your voice as he chuckled softly and traced comforting patterns along your skin. “Night, pretty girl.” He hummed back, but you had already drifted off as he planted a final kiss to your shoulder and buried his face in your hair. The smell of your- no his vanilla shampoo lulling him to sleep.

————————————————————

Thank you for reading!!! please drop a Weasley twins request or a Loki request for me😇

Night Lovlies!

[duh-angel]

Missing you

Jack Daniels ~ Agent Whiskey x afab!reader (wc: 2.6k)

“Wish you were here right now, all of the things I'd do. I wanna get freaky on camera” — Cybersex by Doja cat

SMUT ONE SHOT | MDNI | +18

Warning: Sexual tension | online sex | light voyeurism | sexual toy usage | porn with no plot | Not proofread | no use of y/n. | light praise kink | quicky

backstory: You found yourself in a particularly tiresome mission in the city of Rome. Although the work kept you occupied, it didn’t stop Jack from constantly calling you and expressing how much he misses you. One day, he sends you a special gift.

You found yourself rocking back and forth in your comfortable hotel room chair, captivated by the glorious sight of Rome through the window. The vibrant cityscape, a fusion of modernity and historic charm, held your attention so thoroughly that you could spend hours just gazing at it, if not for the fact that you were currently on a video call with your “boyfriend”, Jack.

The conversation went smoothly, the two of you chatting about your trip and how much you missed each other's company. In the midst of the conversation, Jack's voice suddenly shifted, hinting at a surprise.

"Hey sweetheart, I've got something special for you. Take a peek inside your suitcase, would ya?" 

You glanced at the leather suitcase bearing the renowned S logo, the company monogram gleaming in the center. With a hint of anticipation, you carefully opened it, revealing a box wrapped in blue. You looked back at the camera and gave him a sly smirk, silently inquiring about the mysterious gift. Your mind buzzed with curiosity, wondering what treasures lay hidden inside the deceptively small box.

"Go on, open it," Jack's voice cut through the silence, his tone dripping with mischief and anticipation.

Your heart skips a beat as you gaze at the vibrator nestled in the blue box, a blush spreading across your cheeks. The sleek, purple device seems to wink at you, promising an unforgettable evening. You could feel Jack’s eyes light up with mischief as he saw your reaction on the small screen. A roguish grin spreading across his face.

"Well beautiful, looks like Santa came early this year," he draws teasingly. "I thought you could use some company on your little trip. Why don't you give it a test run for me, hmm?" His voice drops, taking on a husky, seductive tone. "I wanna see you play with it, darlin'. Put on a little show for me."

He leans back in his chair, showcasing his bulge to your hungry eyes. One of his hands casually rested on it, making him groan softly. His brown eyes practically undressing you through the screen, making your body shiver.  "Don't be shy now.” He whispers. "Turn it on, sweetheart. Nice and slow. Let's see how loud I can make you moan from all the way over here."

The heat of your blush intensified. Hell, you felt like you were about to pass out from how overwhelmed yet turned on you were. Slowly, tentatively, you reach for the vibrator, your heart racing as you switch it on. The soft hum fills the otherwise quiet room. Your eyes widened as you felt how your hand quivered from the power of the toy, and you can't help but imagine the sensation it might bring. 

As the vibrations grow stronger in your trembling hand, Whiskey's grin widens. He watched your every move, drinking in the sight of you under his spell. "That's it, baby. Mmmm, you look so fuckin' hot right now," he groans. 

"I wish I was there with you, watching those pretty pink lips of yours wrap around that toy... But I guess this will have to do for now." He palms himself through his jeans, clearly getting off on the show. His free hand reaches for a cigar, lighting it up as he settles in to enjoy the view.

"Go on now, sweetheart. Don't keep me waiting," Whiskey urges, his voice needy with that typical hint of demand. "Bury that toy nice and deep, just like you like it. Fuck, I can almost hear those sweet little moans..."

He takes a long drag of his cigar, blowing out a plume of smoke. His eyes never leave the screen, riveted by your every move. 

You disregarded your pants and underwear in a clumsy manner, feeling almost idiotic to do this through a video call, but in a twisted way, it was filthy, raw. Jack licked his lips, his gaze smoldering with lust as your anticipating legs opened just for him. He's clearly enjoying putting you in this compromising position, eager to push your buttons and drive you wild with pleasure, even from a distance.

With a deep breath, you press the vibrator against your sex, biting your lip as the buzzing warmth sends tingles through your body. inevitably, your back arches and you let out a mix of a gasp and a moan. Your eyes quickly go to the man on the screen, enamored by the sight. 

"You're so goddamn sexy when you let yourself go like this. I love seeing you lose control for me," he praises, voice thick with lust as he chortles. "Now why don't you slip that toy in and out of that tight little pussy of yours and ride it for me? I want you to cum over and over until you can't even remember your own name." 

Whiskey pushes his chair back, legs spreading wider. The heat in his gaze burns through the screen as he waits for you to follow his filthy commands. Slowly, you grind against the toy, looking right into his brown eyes, putting on a show just for him. 

“Ah goddammit.” A loud groan of frustration escaped Jack, followed by the sound of his laptop slamming down as he abruptly ended the call. Your heart skipped a beat, pounding fiercely against your chest as you stared at the suddenly blank screen of your laptop. The sudden disconnection left you feeling both puzzled and worried, a flood of anxiety washing over you.

 The sinking feeling in your stomach grows as you process the implications of Jack's abrupt departure from the call, but before you can dwell on it further, a bright flash of light emanates from your smart glasses, momentarily blinding you. The urgent meeting notification blinks insistently, demanding your attention. In a panic, you instinctively nod, accepting the video conference without a second thought.

As the holographic display materializes before you, you realize the gravity of your oversight. In the heat of the moment, you had completely forgotten about your state of undress, the vibrator still nestled between your thighs. A wave of embarrassment washes over you as you pray that the hologram's limitations will spare you from any potential mortification.

Shifting uncomfortably in your seat, acutely aware of the toy's presence and the lingering warmth it has left on your sensitive skin. Your mind races with the possibilities of what might happen if anyone were to discover your compromising situation.

Your heart skips a beat as your gaze lands upon Jack, his flustered expression instantly setting your nerves on edge. You can practically feel his eyes boring into you from behind the holographic display, his presence both comforting and unnerving.

With a quick nod, you acknowledge his presence, trying to keep your voice steady and professional as you address him. "Agent Whiskey."

“Agent Wine.” His response, laced with a knowing smirk, makes your cheeks flush with equal parts embarrassment and excitement. 

The way he says your codename, drawing out the 'Wine' with a playful inflection, sends a jolt of electricity through your body. It's as if he's relishing in his knowledge of your compromising position. You squirm in your seat, the vibrator still nestled between your thighs, a constant reminder of your shared secret. 

The meeting drones on, a seemingly endless parade of statistics and strategic plans. Your mind struggles to keep pace, constantly drawn back to the throbbing between your thighs. You try to focus on the cold, clinical data presented, but your body betrays you, each movement a torturous reminder of the toy hidden beneath your body. 

Your eyes dart around the holographic conference table, avoiding the temptation to glance down at the source of your distraction. You know that looking at Jack will only make matters worse, his mere presence a constant tease. But in a moment of weakness, your gaze drifts to his face, colliding with those piercing brown eyes and that infuriating smirk.

A chill runs down your spine as you raise an eyebrow questioningly. Before you can utter a word, Jack's finger presses to his lips, a silent command to keep quiet. Your heart races as he reaches into his pocket, retrieving a small remote control. Without a word, he presses a button, and the vibrator springs to life, humming softly against your most sensitive flesh.

A sharp gasp escapes your lips as the sudden stimulation sends shockwaves through your body. Your hands fly to the edges of your desk, gripping the wood so tightly your knuckles turn white. The vibrations pulse through you, each wave building upon the last, threatening to consume you entirely.

You bite your lip, trying desperately to stifle any further sounds. Your thighs tremble, the muscles quivering as you struggle to maintain control. The holograms flicker and dance around you, but all you can focus on is the relentless throb between your legs, the heat building steadily in your core.

“Is everything okay?” Ginger's eyes sparkled with concern and confusion as she addressed you.

You mustered a composed response, trying to maintain a steady tone. "Yes, I thought I saw a bug. Apologies."

At that moment, Tequila spoke up with a bemused smirk. "A bug? You're afraid of a tiny insect, Wine?" Whiskey chuckles darkly at Tequila's comment, his eyes never leaving yours. He leans back in his chair, a smug grin playing on his lips, clearly enjoying your struggle.

“Yes, a bug.” Your eyes narrowed, teeth gritting together as you shot a warning glare at Tequila. He quickly got the message, backing down with a knowing smile. 

You let out a silent sigh of relief, turning your attention back to the meeting. But even as you try to focus on the discussion at hand, your mind keeps drifting to Jack, to the power he holds over you in this moment. 

You are silently pleading for mercy. But his gaze remains fixed upon you, his expression one of pure, unadulterated lust. He revels in this, in the knowledge that he holds your pleasure, your very sanity, in the palm of his hand at this moment.

The minutes tick by agonizingly slowly, each second an eternity of sweet torture. You bite your lip hard enough to draw blood, the coppery taste mingling with the sweat beading on your brow. Your breath comes in short, sharp gasps, your chest heaving with the effort to maintain your composure.

Finally, the meeting draws to a close. The holographic displays flicker and vanish, leaving you alone with Jack and the lingering echo of the vibrator's hum. You slump back in your chair, your body trembling with the aftershocks of your denied release.

Jack's gaze locked onto you from across the room, a smug smile playing on his lips. "Sweetheart, you did great," he remarked before adding, "but I'm afraid we have some unfinished business to take care of." 

Tossing the glasses into the bed, you called Jack again, slumping back in your chair, your body trembling with the effort of maintaining your composure.

As the video call connects, Whiskey's smirking face fills your screen, his eyes glinting with wicked delight. He leans back in his chair. "Well, hello there, darlin'," he drawls, his voice low and husky. "Looks like you're all alone now. No more prying eyes to worry about."

His gaze takes over your trembling form, taking in the sight of you sprawled out in your chair, cheeks flushed and chest heaving. You can practically feel the heat of his stare through the screen.

"I couldn't stop thinking about that little show you put on for me earlier," Whiskey continues, a predatory edge creeping into his tone. "The way you squirmed and bit your lip, trying so hard to hold back those sweet moans... Fuck, it was hot."

His free hand disappears from view for a moment, and when it reappears, it's wrapped around the thick length of his cock, stroking slowly. “You did so well" he purrs, his voice a low, seductive growl as looks at you. The way his rough voice turned into soft whimpers with each stroke sent a fresh wave of heat courses through your body. 

His other hand actively looks for the controller, turning the vibrator a level more. It’s more loud, faster and intense, hitting all the right spots in your heat. “Fuck…” You cry out, thrusting your hips into the air as you look at him. 

Your eyes drift downward, taking in the sight of his hand moving rhythmically, pumping his hardened length with slow, deliberate strokes. The knowledge that he is pleasuring himself while watching you only adds to the intensity of the moment, a heady mix of exhibitionism and voyeurism.

"Fuck yeah, just like that," he groans, palming himself harder. "You're so goddamn sexy, baby. The way you're movin' on that... Mmmm, makes me wanna bend you over and fuck you 'til you can't walk straight."

His gaze is intense, burning into you through the screen. "You like puttin' on a show for me, don't you darlin'?" Jack coos, voice low and rough with arousal. "Such a naughty thing, lettin' me watch you play with yourself. I bet you're drippin' wet right now, aren't you?"

Jack’s hand speeds up on his cock, stroking himself faster, getting off on the erotic display you're giving him. The other hand holds the controller, ready to push you over the edge at any moment.

“Just for you.” You utter, struggling to even talk as the level is torturing your pussy, barely able to keep your eyes on him. 

“Damn right it's just for me," he growls, his voice thick with desire. "You're all mine, Agent. Every inch of that sexy body belongs to me." With that he turns one, then another cruel level more. 

Your eyes roll back as the vibrations intensify, the toy mercilessly pounding into your sensitive flesh. Your body convulses, spasming uncontrollably. “Jack!” You cry out, begging him for something you’re not sure about. All you know is that the vibration is more than you can handle. 

"Sorry sweetheart. I just wanna see you lose control. Fuck that pussy 'til you're screamin' my name. Show me how much you miss my cock."

His breathing grows ragged, chest heaving with each labored breath. He's completely entranced by the sight of you, lost in the fantasy of being there with you, taking you apart with his own hands and tongue. "Goddamn, you're so fuckin' hot," he praises breathlessly. 

His words ignite something deep within you, a primal need that demands to be satiated. You arch your back, pressing the vibrator harder against your aching core as you ride the waves of sensation crashing over you. Your breath comes in short, sharp gasps, your chest heaving with the effort of holding back the impending release. The tension builds, coiling tighter and tighter in your belly until you can stand it no more.

With a cry of pure, unadulterated ecstasy, you let go, your body convulsing as the orgasm rips through you. The vibrator's hum seems to intensify, prolonging your climax, drawing out every last drop of pleasure. Through the haze of your own release, you see Jack's hand move faster, his breath coming in harsh pants as he chases his own end, whimpering your name like a prayer as he cums all over those strong, manly hands of his.

As the afterglow fades, his eyes meet yours, a wistful, almost vulnerable expression on his face. "God... Can we do this till you come back?" he asks, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty.

A playful smirk tugs at your lips as you lean, a mock pout forming on your face. "Someone's needy," you tease, enjoying the way his brow furrows at your words, making him look like a cute puppy.

Jack rolls his eyes, a familiar gesture that never fails to amuse you. "Yeah, yeah," he grumbles, but there's no heat behind his words, only a fond exasperation. “I just miss you.” 

[bratbby333]

two is better than one

gojo x fem!reader x geto ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ nsfw mdni warnings: Threesome, drug use, language, praise/degradation, name-calling, rough sex, mild voyeurism, creampie synopsis: Newly single and looking for trouble, you find yourself in between two of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen. word count: 5.2k

“Fucking prick,” you seethe, taking yet another shot of tequila down.

Your skin is burning, and it’s not just from the liquor coursing through your veins. You’re fuming. Your boyfriend of two years dropped the ball on you earlier this week.

“I don’t love you anymore,” he states. "And I haven't for a while." He avoids your gaze. What a pussy. He’s seemingly so sure of this statement, yet still attempts to hide from confrontation. Typical. 

This isn’t the first time he’s done this. It doesn’t hurt like it used to, though. It’s a toxic, cyclical pattern you’ve endured for years, and somehow grown accustomed to.

You look at the ground and can't help but laugh, shaking your head. You meet his gaze again, your eyes swimming with rage and disappointment, and head to your shared bedroom to pack some of your belongings. 

You pack as much as you can into a suitcase, and as you head to the door, you turn to face him one last time. 

"I'll be back later this week to get the rest of my stuff," rolling your eyes at him as you depart. There was no reason to fight this anymore.

To others, you seem heartless and cruel for the way you handled this situation. The truth is, you hadn’t been present in the relationship since the last time this happened. You anticipated the end from the moment he offered to "try again". You knew he'd never change, and you were too weak to leave first.

You blame yourself for putting up with his neglect for so long. You’re ashamed that you allowed him back in time and time again. Each time he walked away, it was you who was left to pick up the pieces. 

It’s time to take control of your life again, but why not have some fun first? Everyone copes in different ways, and tonight, your vices come out to play. 

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

You’re unsure of how many drinks you’ve had thus far, let alone how high your tab was now, but you couldn’t care less. 

All you want is to feel nothing at all. 

You rub the furrowed area between your eyebrows tentatively, stomach burning with liquor. “I need a cigarette,” you grumble.

Outside, you lean against the brick wall of the club, feeling the bass still pounding in your chest. Your ears are ringing from the change in volume, your eyes readjusting to the yellow cast of a nearby streetlight that contrasted the dim lights of the club. You don’t notice the dark man join you along the wall as you pull the cigarette cartridge from your purse.

“Need a light?” His voice is sultry and low, almost inaudible. 

Your eyes meet his and you raise your eyebrow at him, as if to let him know you’re wary of him, but nod and lean forward with the cigarette in your mouth, eyeing him the whole time. He pulls a lighter from his pocket and flicks the gear with his thumb. You inhale deeply and lean back, head tilted to rest against the wall again, then exhaling gently towards the night sky. 

Your eyes fall back on the mystery man as he sparks a cigarette for himself. He’s alarmingly handsome. Tall and dark. Broad, strong shoulders. Alluring. You can’t help but stare. 

He catches your gaze and you see a smirk curl at the edge of his lips. You feel a warming sensation run throughout your body, flushing your cheeks, and this time it wasn’t due to the tequila. 

“Suguru,” he states with a soft smile. 

“Y/N,” you respond. 

“So what’s a pretty girl like you doing out here when all the fun's inside?” he inquired. 

You roll your eyes at the corny nature of his question.

“Nursing a broken heart, if I’m honest,” you breathed out, looking away again and taking another drag from your half-smoked cigarette. 

Suguru nods, sensing you don't want to open up about it. He takes a puff of his own preroll.

You make small talk as you both work on finishing your cigarettes, enjoying a break from the noise in the cool, quiet evening. 

"Are you just now getting here?", you ask, trying to distract yourself from the inappropriate ache in your core caused by a man you've only just met. 

"Yeah, my friend and I are just trying to blow off some steam after work," he replies, taking another puff. 

"What do you do for work?" you ask, intrigued, wanting to know as much as you possibly can about the mysterious man standing before you.

"I'm a teacher."

"Nothing nobler than education. I commend you," you respond teasingly, tilting your head. He chuckles in response.

A teacher, you think. There's something sexy about a patient man who can lead, command, and discipline. 

There's a lull in the conversation, so you take the time to really drink him in. Finishing your cigarette, you notice how his sharp, defined features juxtapose the soft feathering of his long hair. He's unreal. He reciprocates, taking in every angle and curve of your face. Something unspoken is floating around the two of you, and after a few moments, Suguru breaks the tensioned silence.

"Your ex is a dumbass," he bites. "I would want nothing more than to fill your life with pleasure," he breathes out, seemingly frustrated. You smile. You hadn't been complimented in months. 

"You deserve to be worshipped..." he adds, pausing between his words. You watch Suguru's eyes run along your body once again. He admired the way your tight dress hugged you, clinging to your waist before tapering out at your hips. You curved so effortlessly, so beautifully.... "and simultaneously destroyed."

Suguru couldn't take it anymore. He needed to feel you. 

He closed the distance between the two of you, his hands finding your waist, effectively pinning you against the wall. 

You bring your arms up to wrap around him instinctively, resting your wrists against the back of his neck. You inhale deeply. He smells divine. 

You gaze up at him, eyes wide. The sudden close proximity catches you off-guard. The difference in size and height between the two of you sends another pulse to your core. You're touch-starved. You couldn't remember that last time you and your ex had been intimate.

He chuckles softly at your reaction. Shit, you think, can he tell I'm getting turned on?

Feeling bold and newly free, you look from his lips to his eyes and back again. 

Message received.

He crashes his lips into yours. You moan at the force, prompting Suguru to trace your bottom lip with his tongue. The sensation between your legs only grows hotter. 

A grown escapes his soft lips, hands clawing hungrily along each others bodies, tongues battling for control, the shared taste of cigarettes and liquor making it even more arousing. Your bodies are fully flush against one another, one of his legs wedged between yours. You thrust your hips slowly, grinding against him. The contact against his firm thigh giving you the stimulation you had been craving for months. You moan into his mouth, your pussy throbbing against him. You continue to rut against him, his hands pulling you down to intensify the contact between his clothed thigh and your hot, pulsating core. This carries on for several minutes, but for you two, it feels as though no time has passed.

You pull away from him to catch your breath, eyes low and head dizzy. He groans at the loss of contact, but steps back a bit, allowing you to smooth your hair out and readjust your skin-tight dress. You didn't want him to know how much of an effect he already had on you, but he seemingly already knew after the show you had just put on; Get it together, Y/N. You guys had only just met, for Christ sake, regardless of how badly you wanted him to drill you outside the club. You step closer to him and kiss him deeply once more, pulling away but keeping your faces close. 

"Your taste is addictive, baby," he breathes out, eyes low. You smile to yourself. Let's have some fun, shall we?

"Maybe we'll run into each other again," you seduce, smiling wickedly at him before turning and walking back inside. Suguru huffs a bit, annoyed that you were leaving so soon, his desire for you growing even stronger. But his dark eyes flickered with excitement, watching your hips sway as you depart. Your defiant nature seemed like a challenge. And Suguru loved the chase. 

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

You return to your seat at the bar. Your mind is consumed by the arousing interaction with Suguru. You wanted more. But, after spending two years with someone who wanted nothing more than to leave you, you thought it was only fair for you to be chased this time around. 

You cross one leg over the other in hopes to quell the sensations throbbing deep in your pussy, but it only added additional pressure. You huff softly. I need more tequila, you decide. 

You catch the attention of the bartender with a smile and motion with your finger that you'd like another round. As she returns with your mixed drink and shot, a voice emerges from just over your shoulder. 

"Put her tab on me," the voice states, sternly. The bartender nods, making the requested changes on her handheld system before going to cater to other patrons. 

You turn your head toward the unfamiliar voice, only to be met with the most beautiful pair of eyes you'd ever seen peering over the round frames of his sunglasses. Strikingly blue. He grins down at you, and your breath hitches in your throat, another pulse sent straight to your core. He's gorgeous. Platinum white hair. Tall. Slender. Violently confident and charismatic. Anyone who wears sunglasses at the club is either too intoxicated to make eye contact or just absolutely insufferable. But his seem to suit him perfectly. 

"Hello, beautiful," he smirks. His arm snakes around the back of your chair, his hand rubbing deep circles into your shoulder. You lean into his touch and stifle a moan that threatened to escape your lips, still recovering from your interaction with Suguru. You smile back up at him through your lashes.

"I'm Y/N", you purr, tilting your head slightly with a small smile. With all these beautiful men wanting your attention, you should have called it quits with your ex a long time ago. 

"Satoru," he replies, his free hand taking yours. He brings your hand to his lips and kisses it gently, winking at you. You giggle at the cheesiness of his affections, but it was definitely working. He releases your hand and removes his arm from around your shoulder, taking a seat next to you at the bar. You turn to face him, and you notice him raking his eyes up and down your body, taking in every part of you, before his gaze meets yours again. 

"There has to be a reason why a stunning woman like you is drinking alone at the bar," he says smoothly. 

"I would return the sentiment, but it seems neither of us are alone anymore," you grin, pushing your hair out of your eyes. 

"I appreciate you paying for my drinks," you follow up.

"It's been a while since anyone's done that for me," you say, your appreciation swirling around your words. You sip from the cocktail straw in your drink, gazing deeply into his eyes. 

"Anytime. I couldn't pass up the opportunity to speak to you," he replies. 

You watch as his eyes run up and down your body again. Your cheeks flush and the pulse between your legs picks up again, and you recross your legs in an attempt to hide it. 

But there's no hiding from Satoru.

He leans closer to you, placing his hand on your thigh. You glance down, his thumb rubbing gently on your soft flesh. Your breath catches in your throat, and Satoru smirks at the way your body is already responding to him. His mind wanders to what else he could do to you...to the sounds you'd make for him. 

He begins to speak, but before he can get anything out, another voice interjects. 

"I see you've met my friend, Satoru."

You lock eyes with Suguru, who's now standing beside Satoru. You glance between the two of them, panicked. Shit, you think. Not good. You had enough drama in your life from the past two years to last you a lifetime. And of course, being caught between two friends tracks for the kind of luck you have in your life. 

Before you start pleading your case, Satoru speaks up.

"Damn, so you got to her first, huh Suguru?, the white-haired man huffs out, directing his attention toward his friend. Satoru's thumb is still massaging your thigh, squeezing hard, as if to assert dominance.

"Yeah, I did. We had some fun out there didn't we, Y/N?" Suguru retorts, smirking down at you. Your mind wanders back to the way you were using his thigh for your own pleasure. Unsure of how to play this situation, you nod slowly, blushing, still glancing between the friends. Satoru smirks at his friend's comment. 

"So, are you guys going to fight over me or what?" you boldly ask, resting your elbow on the bar top and propping your head up, hoping to regain control of this situation. Satoru chuckles at your statement, glancing up at his friend.

"That won't be necessary, princess," Suguru says teasingly, directing his gaze back to Satoru, who gives a small nod in response. A coy smile spreads across both their faces, looking back at you. Your heart rate quickens and your eyes darken, and while you're unsure of what's in store for you this evening, you can't help but feel aroused. Fuck it...let's have some fun. 

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Shot after shot cascades down the trio's throats as the night carries on. With the music rattling through your chest and the spotlights bouncing off the walls, you find yourself getting lost in this moment. You felt free. Pure ecstasy courses through your veins. Your back is pressed up against Satoru, grinding your ass in tempo to the music. Suguru is sat in a booth, arms extended along the back of the chair and legs crossed, watching the whole ordeal, his erection becoming more difficult to conceal. 

You tilt your head back against Satoru's shoulder, peering up at him through your lashes, and his arm snakes around you. His hand finds its' way to your neck, massaging it gently. The contact only spurs you on, grinding deeper into Satoru's crotch. You can feel him grow harder against you, his other hand clawing at your hip, pulling you even closer. People lingered around the two of you, the dance floor of the club teeming with sweaty, intoxicated bodies, but it felt as though you and Satoru were the only people on earth. 

Your eyes maneuver through the sea of people around you and lock eyes with Suguru. He's smirking at the two of you. Even with the distance between you, you can tell he's enjoying the show. Maintaining eye contact with Suguru, you run your tongue along your upper teeth, grinding harder against Satoru. You see Suguru shift his weight in the booth, knowing he's getting harder watching the steamy interaction between you and Satoru. 

You turn around to face Satoru, wrapping your arms around his neck. Bringing his face closer to yours, you run your tongue vertically from his bottom lip to his top lip. He groans, grabbing the back of your neck to deepen the kiss. Your tongues are battling one another for control. Soon after, you feel another body press up against your back, You break the kiss, Satoru removing his hands from around your neck to find your waist. You turn and see a smirking Suguru. He brushes your hair away from one of your shoulders, ducking his head down to gently suck on the soft flesh of your neck. You roll your head back and rest it against his shoulder, eyes lilting closed. You moan at the way his warm breath dances along your sensitive skin, sending chills down your spine.

Satoru pouts a bit, feeling left out. He uses two fingers to tilt your chin back so you can meet his gaze. Your eyes are glazed over, lids low, and Satoru chuckles at how fucked out you already look. He leans down and kisses you deeply again. Suguru is still suckling gently. He breaks away from your neck and brings his lips closer to your ear.

"Are you ready to go, princess?" Suguru asked, feeling you nod desperately against his shoulder, still making out with Satoru.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

You're sat between the two men in the back of a cab, heading to the hotel you've been staying in since leaving your ex. Both of their large hands are placed each of your thighs. Your attention is on Suguru, kissing him deeply, tongues lapping against one another. You pull away, a thick trail of spit connecting the two of you. You turn to Satoru and give him the same treatment, mixing all three of your fluids together. Suguru groans at the sight and digs his fingers into your thigh before dragging his hand under your dress and over your panties to meet you in the place you crave him most. He rubs tantalizingly slow circles into your clit, making you rut into his hands.

"Feels so good, doesn't it, princess?" Geto asks you, teasingly.

"Your pussy is so hot for us," he continues, growling into your ear. You try to pull away from Satoru to fall deeper into the feeling of Suguru playing with your pussy, but Satoru grabs you by the back of the neck to prevent you from leaving.

"Stay right here, sweetheart," Satoru mumbles against your lips.

"Be good for us," he groaned out. You moan in response. Satoru's grip on your neck constricts and relaxes over and over, massaging your throat, and the throbbing in your pussy matches the rhythm against Suguru's hand. You place your hand on Satoru's bulge, palming him through his slacks. You mirror your actions against Suguru. You hear Satoru's breath catch in his throat from the sudden contact, and Suguru growls softly into your ear.

"That's it, baby, th-that's it", Suguru slurs out.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

After pulling up to the front of the hotel, Suguru hangs back to pay the driver while you and Satoru stumble up the marble stairs and through the entrance way, not wanting to break the contact between the two of you. You break away for just a second as you pass the woman who checked you in on your first night. You exchange small smiles at one another as you and Satoru walk by, her knowing about the situation that brought you and her to meet. Her eyes widen when Suguru catches up to the both of you and slings his arm around your waist, guiding you and his white-haired friend toward the elevator. Her surprise is soon replaced with elation, and she giggles to herself, happy to see you're finally enjoying yourself. Atta girl, she thinks.

The ride up to the 15th floor feels like an eternity. You're pressed up against Suguru, his back flush with the elevator wall, the two of you making out deeply once again. Satoru is on the opposite wall, palming himself to the scene unfolding in front of him. The doors finally part, and Suguru leans down and picks you up by your thighs. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist and intertwine your finger behind his neck for support. He walks the two of you out of the elevator, Satoru hot on your tail. At the door, you break away from Suguru's lips to pull your keycard from your small handbag. Handing it to Satoru before reigniting the kiss with Suguru, you hear the lock disengage as he taps it against the keypad and pushes the door open.

Suguru drops you onto the bed before standing upright again, he and Satoru shoulder to shoulder, smirking at each other before peering down at you. The dominate energy of the two of them send chills down your spine.

"Isn't she beautiful, Suguru? I can't wait to ruin her". Your eyes widen at Satoru's brazen remarks. You prop yourself up on your elbows, bringing your thighs back together and blushing at the two of them.

"Don't get shy now, sweetheart, you were such a tease this whole evening," Satoru laughs out, leaning over you.

"You're gonna take what we give you and thank us after we're done with you."

"She's quite the vixen..you should have seen the way she blue balled me outside the club," Suguru growled back in response. His hands find the hem of your dress, dragging it up over your hips as you sit up more so he can fully remove your clothing. Laid out before them in only a black lace thong and matching bra, they drink in the delicious sight. They each remove their outer layers, discarding them across the room, until they're left in only their boxers. You run your eyes up and down each of their bodies. They look delicious. Chiseled from marble.

Suguru climbs onto the bed, resting his back against the headboard. He leans forward and grabs underneath your arms, dragging you up the bed so that your back is flush against his toned chest. You're sat between his legs, his strong, calloused hands holding your thighs apart as Satoru lays himself on the bed, settling his head between you thighs. Your breath hitches at the sight of his pretty blue eyes staring up at you.

Satoru kisses along your thighs, the warmth of his exhales teasing you, purposely skipping over your dripping cunt. You groan, bucking you hips toward his face, only to be held back by Suguru's firm grip on your hips.

"Aht aht, that's not how good girls ask to be pleased," Suguru murmurs into your ear, gripping your hips even tighter.

"Tell Satoru what you want, princess".

"P-please 'Toru, your mouth," you whimper out. Satoru's finger runs up and down your clothed slit, making you buck your hips again.

"You gotta do better than that," Suguru chucked, "Beg for it, sweetheart".

"Please, fuck me with your mouth. I promise to be good. I want to c-cum on your tongue. P-please, Satoru." Without hesitation, your panties are ripped off of you and discarded, Satoru's tongue delicately dancing up and down you slit before taking your swollen, needy clit into his soft lips, sucking hungrily. You tangle your fingers in his blond tresses, pulling gently. Satoru groans into your cunt, the vibrations bringing you even closer to the edge.

"You sound so fu-fucking good 'fa me, baby girl," Satoru stutters out, trying to speak and eat at the same time. "You k-know it's rude to talk with your mouth full, right ahh.. right, Satoru?", you try to retort. Satoru giggles into you and you hear Suguru's chest vibrate against your back with a chuckle.

Suguru's mouth hangs open, the gushing wetness of your pussy and the sounds you're making in response to his best friend devouring you fills the room. It's almost unbearable for Suguru to resist pushing Satoru away and taking you all for himself.

"She's a fiery one, isn't she, Satoru?" Suguru raises an eyebrow at his friend, who peers up from between your legs and nods in response.

"Mhmm, and she tastes so fucking good," Satoru murmurs against you in response, his tongue still thrashing against you. Satoru teases one finger against your hole before plunging it deep inside you. Pumping in and out rhythmically, he finds your g-spot with ease. He massages into you with the rough pads of his long, slender fingers. His lips latch around your swollen bundle of nerves, sucking greedily. You feel the coils tightening in your stomach, arching your back away from Suguru.

"I...ahh f-fuck..I'm s-so close, Satoru," you cry out, trying to close your legs around his face. Suguru pries your legs apart and holds them open.

"Let go, baby. C'mon, be a good little slut...cum for him. Show him how good he's making you feel," Suguru whispers in your ear. Satoru pumps his fingers deeper into you, sucking even harder on your clit. The tightness in your tummy finally snaps, eyes rolling back in your head, a small yelp leaving your lips. You feel yourself spray your release all over Satoru's face. His eyes widen in surprise before he laps up everything you give him, relishing in the way your sweet juices coat his tongue. You're shaking as he cleans you up with his tongue, riding the fine line between pleasure and overstimulation.

"Mmmm, you saw that Suguru?" asks Satoru, "We found ourselves a squirter". Satoru's tongue continues to lap you up. Suguru's eyes darken at that. He pulls his digit out of your dripping pussy, presenting it to Suguru so he can taste you, too.

Suguru can't take it anymore. He's been rock hard against your back this whole time, fighting every carnal urge that's raking through his body. When he finally gets a taste of you, the restraint he had been so desperately clinging to snaps. He sucks you off Satoru's fingers hungrily, eyes rolling back in his head at your sweetness.

Satoru scoots back as Suguru pushes you onto your stomach, your chest against the mattress and hips in the air, his head dipping to meet your cunt. He drinks up what Satoru so generously left behind for him before straightening up again, sliding his boxers off. He positions himself behind you, teasing your clit with the head of his thick cock. You groan at the sensation, the aftermath of your first orgasm still making your clit sensitive. You push yourself back against Suguru, only to be stopped by his hands taking a hold of your hips.

"Tell me what you want, sweetheart", he says, still teasing your clit with the head of his cock.

"I want you inside me...need to feel you stretch me out...please, Suguru," you beg, trying to push back against him again. Suguru chuckles at this.

"Dirty slut is learning fast isn't she? Being such a good fuck toy for us."

With that, he lines himself up with your dripping hole, and plunges deep into you, giving you no time to adjust to how thick he is as he drives himself deep into you. Your slickness from your orgasm is the only thing saving you from his thickness.

Satoru leans down to kiss you, pulling his boxers off and discarding them. His long cock bounces out and sits rock hard in front of your face. You lick your lips at the sight of his pretty pink head dripping pre-cum, eyes half open, head bouncing from getting fucked into from behind.

"So fucking wet for me, sweetheart. You're taking me so well. Such a good little slut," Suguru gritted his teeth.

"C-can I please...oh-h fu-fuck...can I please suck you off, Satoru? W-want you to come down my throat," you stumble over your words, trying hard to keep your head upright as Suguru continues to drill into you, ramming directly into your sweet spot, his cock stretching you out so painfully, so perfectly. Satoru moans at your question.

"Thought you'd never ask..go ahead, princess. Be a good girl and let me fuck your mouth." His hand cups the underside of your jaw, keeping your head up for you.

You open your mouth and stick out your tongue for Satoru, inviting him in. His hands tangle in your hair, wasting no time before plunging deep into your throat. You gag around his length, eyes watering at the sudden intrusion. Suguru is fucking into you so deeply, his powerful thrust pushing you deeper onto Satoru's length. Gagging and sputtering, you inhale deeply through your nose, adjusting to the pace before opening your throat for Satoru.

"Jesus Christ, she's fucking milking me," Suguru spits out, his unrelenting hips still plowing into you. You can only moan in response, the vibrations running from the back of your throat into Satoru's member, causing him to buck his hip, shoving his cock all the way down your throat.

"Such a pretty mouth..wrapped so tight around me..it's-it's so warm..o-oh fuck," Satoru rambles, one hand on the back of your head, the other under your chin, holding your mouth open for him.

Your stomach begins to tighten up again, and you desperately clench around Suguru. One of his hands leaves your hips and reaches around to start rubbing vicious circles into your clit. The added stimulation pushes you over the edge, and you cry out around Satoru's cock, tears trickling down your face as your second orgasm rakes through you. The sight of you succumbing to Suguru's relentless strokes while choking and moaning around his cock was enough to push Satoru towards his own release, and he bottoms out in the back of your throat before shooting his come into your mouth. His hips sputter and he hunches over, holding your face against his pelvis. Your eyes are rolled back in your head, your own squirting orgasm making it difficult for you to keep upright.

Satoru pulls out of your mouth with a pop, your aching jaw still agape from Suguru continuing to slam into you, chasing his own orgasm. Your chest falls to the bed, unable to keep yourself up anymore, before you're lifted back up by Satoru.

"Stay with us, princess," Satoru coos.

"You're doing so good...let him keep fucking into you. You're taking his cock so well".

Suguru's head falls back, still pounding his hips roughly against your ass.

"I'm gonna fill you up, baby," Suguru pants. You turn your head to protest, but before you can utter a word, Satoru's hand covers your mouth.

"Shut up and take my cum, slut. Be a good fuck toy and let me cream you." Suguru says through gritted teeth. You moan against Satoru's hand in response as you feel Suguru release inside of you, his hot, creamy ropes coating your insides. He trusts a few more times, letting your tight cunt milk every last drop out of him. When he pulls out, you feel your foundation waiver and you collapse onto the bed, your head falling into Satoru's lap.

It had been so long since you had a good fuck. You over-anticipated your body's capabilities..you had been out of the game for too long.

"You did so, so good for us, princess," Satoru says, you head resting against his thigh, trying to regain your composure. You can only hum quietly in response, eyes fluttering. The two men look at each other before looking back down at your fucked out body. Satoru rubs your upper back gently as Suguru massages your shaking thighs. You all sat like that for a moment, relishing in the pleasure still coursing through your veins, the hot smell of sex sitting heavy in the room. Suddenly, Suguru's deep, sultry voice cuts through the silence.

"Don't quit on us now, sweetheart. We're just getting started," he taunts.

author notes: whewww..this is my first story to welcome myself back into the content mines. this was a fun one to write. im def gonna do a part two (how would we feel about turning this into a multiple chapter story where y'all end up in a throuple heheheh....too much or no ((are we seeing the vision))?? lmk if im doin too much. but thank you so so so much for reading and engaging. ill be uploading even more soon. if u have any questions, suggestions, or concerns pls message me!!

© bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. please do not distribute. 2024.

[barrackspredator]

sugar service

cw: didn’t proof read this, cussing, writing practice. best of luck.

“Hot damn!”

“Smash, smash, smash, uh… yeah, him too. Smash.”

You rolled your eyes, stifling a laugh as the other waitresses eyed your table. The three of you were waiting at the hostess post on a particularly slow day. The only customers was your table of four. Some older guys your friends just couldn’t seem to get enough of.

“Please,” you mumbled. “They’re old enough to be our dads.” Your eyes flicked up from the magazine in your hands to your coworkers. The three girls were giggling and occasionally glancing over their shoulders.

“Yeah, that's the best part!” Your coworker, Rona replied before glancing back again. “Older guys are experienced and typically have pretty big… savings.” She grinned at you, her eyes narrowing coyly.

“God-!” you scoffed, choking down your surprised guffaw. “You guys are unbelievable.”

Ignoring their giggles and teasing, you push yourself off of the wall you were leaning against to approach your table. Your eyes roamed over the four men, taking in how their shirts clung perfectly to their muscles. A few gray hairs here and there, but their physiques certainly made up for their age.

Caught up in your ogling, you slammed your hip into the corner of their table. The oldest of the men quickly grabbed the edge of the table to steady it.

“Fuck…” Your hand immediately slapped over your mouth in shock, remembering that you were in front of customers. The men chuckled, eyeing each other before turning back to look at you.

“Careful there, sweetheart. Can’t ’ave a pretty little thing like you bruising up,” one of the men, a particularly dashing man with a mohawk, chastised you. His eyes scanned yours before slowly raking down your form.

Letting out a shaky sigh of relief that they were cool and not some uptight old asses, you smiled. A genuine smile, not the customer service lip curl you were so used to doing. “I would like to apologize for that, gentlemen.” After a few seconds, you quickly added, “Please don’t tell my manager.”

With languid waves and laughs, they shook their heads and sipped their beverages in amusement. “There ain’t anything to tell.” A man with a scarred face stared, boring his eyes into you. He seemed to be deep in thought before giving his head a slight nod—something the other men quickly noted.

“Thank you.” You took a deep breath now that the anxiety of possibly losing this shitty job passed. “Is there anything I can get you, gentlemen? Drinks, dessert?”

“Your number?” He looked at you expectantly, a handsome man. The youngest of the bunch, no doubt.

Dealing with flirty old customers was a piece of cake. It’s what got the tips going. But typically they were vile old men you would never touch with a 10-foot pole. These guys were quite palatable. Very palatable.

“Well,” you laughed nervously. Perhaps Rona had a point. These men had a way of making a girl’s tummy flutter like it never has before. “Unfortunately, I can’t give you that, sir.”

“Kyle.”

“Pardon?” You blinked at him, furrowing your brows.

“Call me Kyle.” Another dashing smile sent butterflies thrashing in your belly.

“None of that sir shit. Makes us feel too damn old.” The men grumbled with bitter chuckles. “Johnny.” The man with the mohawk dismissively pat your hip, gripping the tender flesh of your forming bruise. “That old sap is John. And the brooding fella is Simon.”

“Piss off,” Simon grumbled, certainly living up to the broody title.

An amused giggle shook her shoulders, your hand subconsciously resting over Johnny’s. “It’s lovely meeting you all. So how about that dessert?” You inquired, grabbing the paper centerfold that listed off the desserts of the weeks. “The chocolate chunk brownies are pretty good and the cheesecake here is lovely paired with...”

The men rose from their table, completely ignoring your rambles. “That won’t be needed, love.” John’s hand rested on your shoulder, perhaps a bit too close to your chest.

“You give us a call when you’re ready.” Johnny stood beside you, his breath flicking against the shell of your ear. His hot, tipsy breath made you shiver and recoil.

Kyle only chuckled, gracefully slipping a business card into your pocket. “A pretty little thing like you shouldn’t be working.” There it was again. That dashing smile that turned your knees into jelly.

“Give us a call.” Simon grumbled from the table. Glancing at him, you noticed the thick wad of cash he was leaving behind on the table.

“Sir, that’s too much.”

“Enjoy your tip.” Johnny pat your hip dismissively, sauntering away shortly after. John and Kyle followed behind him.

In complete disbelief, you nervously laughed. “Holy shit…” You shakily picked up the wad of cash left behind on the table. Simon quietly stood behind you, casting his shadow over your body. His eyes slowly raked down your back.

“See you ‘round,” he mumbled, not surprised as you jumped out of your skin in shock at his presence. Moments later, he was out of the place, nothing left but an empty establishment.

With shaky fingers, you plucked the business card out of your pocket.

Sugar Service Call (555)141-6157

[1800classiccherries]

Spider-cat!

⚘ Miguel x fem!reader

⚘ fluff

⚘ I don’t think there are any warnings?

⚘ summary: Y/n spends all her time with Spidercat, causing Miguel to feel little jelous.

⚘ wc: 960

“Sorry, Miguel, Spider-cat is back from a mission. Gotta go!” Y/n states, giving Miguel a quick peck on the cheek before swigging off the monitor platform and out of the room.

Recently Y/n had made a new friend amongst the spider crowd, Spider-cat, and this cat had her wrapped around his furry paw. Miguel sighs, not wanting to admit to himself that his girlfriend is spending more time with a cat than him and that he is jealous.

As Y/n roams around looking for her furry friend, she spots him down the hall, and she quickens her pace. “My baby!” she calls out, holding her arms open for the cat to jump into, “how was the mission?” Y/n inquires, getting a content meow in response. “I’m glad to hear it,” she nods, setting down Spider-cat so he can walk beside her.

~

Y/n and Spider-cat step out of the orange portal, now on Y/n’s earth. In their downtime, the two would go for swings around their Earths for as long as they could before having to go on a mission. Today was no different.

“Ready to go?” Y/n asks, looking down at the cat, who replies with a happy meow.

With that, the two swing off the fire escape they were previously on and begin their swing around the city. They were showing off their tricks and finding interesting new locations around the city. A while into their adventure, Y/n notices a hologram of a certain someone show up on her watch, causing her to pull over to the roof of the nearest building. Spider-cat follows suit, making himself comfortable, and begins making biscuits on Y/n’s lap once she sits down.

“Yes, Miguel?” she prompts, not too happy about her time with Spider-cat getting cut short.

“Are you busy?” Miguel asks, knowing she’s probably with the cat.

“Kinda off...” Y/n trails off, holding Spider-cat up for him to see. 

“I-” he starts, almost at a loss for words, “I’ll just get someone else to do it.”

Before Y/n could even say anything, the hologram disappeared. With a sigh, she looks down at the cat, who’s looking back up at her. 

“I guess that’s my queue to leave,” she gets a disappointed meow in response.

“Yeah, I wanted to keep swinging too. But I have to spend some time with my boyfriend now,” she explains, standing up and opening a portal for her and Spider-cat to go back to headquarters.

~

Now back at headquarters, Y/n makes her way to Miguel’s locations thinking as to how she can smooth things over. It’ll be fine; she says to herself as she arrives at the room.

“Heyy, spider-bae~,” Y/n says, dragging out her words as she walks toward the (painfully) slowly descending platform.

Miguel raises an eyebrow as he turns around to face Y/n, clearly unamused. She opens her mouth to defend herself but promptly stops. She opens her mouth once more to try again, but she stops. ”I have nothing to say.”

“Typical,” he deadpans, shaking his head and returning to his work.

“Aww, don’t be like that,” she pouts, taking a little swing onto the platform to stand next to him.

Y/n tunnels her way under Miguel’s arm so that his arm is over her shoulder. She leans into him, looking up with apologetic eyes, hoping he looks down at her. 

“Y’know you my boo thang, right, Miguel?” she says with a slowly spreading smile.

“Boo thang?” Miguel repeats, slightly amused, looking at Y/n.

“You heard me.”

Y/n moves from under his arm to in front of him, taking hold of his hand and leaning slightly against the control panel under the monitors. Looking up at him with a look that says, ‘I’m sorry.’

“I’ve missed you, mi amor,” Miguel voices, resting a hand on the side of Y/n’s face.

Leaning into his touch, the corner of her lips turns up slightly, “I’m sorry about ditching you for spider-cat.”

Miguel shakes his head a bit, chuckling softly, “It’s not your fault; he is pretty cute.”

“Yeah, but you’re cuter,” Y/n flirts tilting her head.

“I don’t know how I feel about getting called cute...”

Thanks for reading!

[redhead1180]

Can you write me a whimpering, overstimulated JJ? Reader turns it around on him and leaves the man a mess 😙 I’m on my period and horny af 😮‍💨

First off, ma'am, the fact you, the smut queen herself, asked me made my brain short circuit. 😵‍💫😵‍💫 I had to come back to Earth before I could comprehend your ask. 🤯🤯 Lol. Sorry it took me so long, I had a couple of family functions for Father's Day. This actually helped me with my writer's block I have been having as of late. I really hope you like it. I love a subby JJ and always fun to write him.

It was a typical Sunday night as you and JJ watched a movie after being lazy all day. You had let JJ pick the movie, which meant some crazy B movie of big ass worms in the swamp trying to eat the local population. JJ was half sitting and half laying down on the sofa as you laid against his chest, listening to the rumble in his chest as he ranted about the movie.

Normally his theatrics would amuse you and keep you laughing even though it was a terrible movie, but tonight you were bored. Said boredom must have been pretty obvious, because JJ began to pinch your side playfully.

“J don’t” you whined trying to stifle a laugh.

“What’s a matter, babe” JJ asked as he worked at getting me to laugh.

You shrugged “Movie’s not really doing it for me tonight” You mumble trying not to hurt his feelings, but the boy has horrible taste in movies.

“Aahhh” JJ hums as he pulls you on top of him, spreading his legs so you fit snuggly between them, your chin resting on his sternum looking up at him.

“Care to make it more interesting?” he inquires, looking down at you with a shit eating grin.

“Exactly what did you have in mind?” you chuckle.

“Little J is feeling a little cold and lonely, why don’t you cockwarm me the rest of the movie?” he asked cockily.

You were always horrible at this, giving in pretty quickly, wanting more and begging for it. JJ knew this, he knew his girl, and knew this would end in his favor. JJ liked to be in control, and knowing how you lost control at this was why he loved it.

“Hmmm” you pondered, knowing you would give in, but holding out a few minutes. You could feel his dick already getting hard against your stomach. Looking up at him almost made you laugh, his bottom lip poking out and his blue orbs begging. “M’kay” you chuckle, unable to hold it in.

He grabs your face and kisses you passionately, as if he was holding back and would explode. You let him dominate the kiss while you palm him and work to unbutton his shorts. He helps you slide your panties off and pull down his shorts, before you raise up and feel him slide his cock through your folds. You gasp from the stretch, without JJ’s normal prep, it took a minute to adjust to him. Your walls clamp around him, welcoming him into their warmth.

“Shit baby, you feel so good” JJ moaned as he leaned his forehead against mine.

“So do you J,” I hummed “Now be still and watch your movie.”

You laid down on his chest and snuggled into him to finish the movie. It was maybe 30 minutes later you felt JJ begin to squirm.

“JJ be still,” I whined, lightly tapping his thigh, causing him to whimper. I looked at him and he was biting his lip and hitting me with puppy dog eyes. “What’s wrong, baby?

“I want you to move, please, baby.”

You set up and place your hands on the couch arm behind him, leaning towards him till your lips are almost touching. “What’s wrong J, need something more?”

“Mhmm” he whined, his hands squeezing my hips, silently begging me to move. He reached up to kiss me and I pulled back with a smile, taunting him. He pouted.

“You gotta be a good boy to get what you want,” You taunted, barely rolling your hips on him, causing him to gasp. “Have you been a good boy, baby?”

“Yes, please baby, I just -fuck- I just need you to move,” he panted as he pawed at my hips, my waist, and my chest. Burying his head in my neck, I clenched around him, causing him to buck his hips and cry out. “Oh fuck, please mama, need you to fuck me!”

“Shhh, I’m gonna make you feel all better, I promise,” I cooed as I rolled my hips back and forth, riding him slowly at first. I could feel his cock slide in and out of my soaked pussy, feeling every ridge and vein.

“Oh God, mama, more” JJ whimpered.

I pushed his hands onto the couch arm, using them as leverage to help pick up speed and ride him harder. With each thrust of my hips he slammed into couch, letting out tiny moans each time. He worked his hands free and wrapped his arms around my waist, babbling in my neck praise and thank you’s. I wrapped my arms around his neck to hold him close. His thighs began to shake as held me tighter.

“Mama, I’m gonna cum, I’m cum-“

I feel JJ’s hot release hit my walls as his hips sputter under me. I don’t stop or slow down and I feel his arms tighten around me.

“Good boy, but I didn’t cum,” you whisper in his ear. Speeding your hips up, you hear him whimper.

“Baby, I can’t, you gotta stop” he whines in your neck.

“Nah, you gotta another, besides I’m close baby.” I rasp in his ear, before his head falls back and I see tears in his eyes.

I kiss him hard and passionately, taking what I wanted, while he squirmed underneath me, whimpering and whining. The little noises he was making were shooting straight to my core, I felt almost feral as I rode him harder, slamming him harder into the couch with each jerk of my hips.

“Baby, please, I can’t,” he whimpers, barely able to speak from the overstimulation. His hips jerking with each slam of mine. I slapped his thigh and chased my high, grabbing him around the throat.

“C’mon, JJ, I know you can be a good boy for Mama, I’m so close baby” I murmur to him. I feel my skin began to burn, I felt the band in my stomach tighten, my core tingling as I feel my release close. JJ has his head thrown back, tears running down his cheeks, “uh-uhs” falling from his lips.

“JJ!” I panted, “Fuck!” I moaned right as I felt the band snap and my climax releases all over his cock. I hear JJ cry out as I feel him cum again, his body going limp under me. I collapse on him, kissing his face and neck, praising him as he waited for his soul to return to his body.

“You ok, baby?” I ask as I he looks at me, grinning like a drunk.

“Fuck, baby that was the hottest shit we’ve ever done” he lazily smiled.

“Wasn’t too much?”

“Oh, hell no, give me 30 and we will go again” he lightly panted. I just chuckled, causing him to jump and grab my hips. “Fuck, babe, still sensitive” he cried.

[te1eky]

CollegeStudent!satoru continued!

“well, you look…comfortable.”

hilariously, you were anything but.

what you had presumed to be your typical, flirty college-fling turned out to be more of a ‘classmates with benefits’ sort of situation. it was simple, really: you helped him with assignments, he came around whenever you wanted to fuck, easy peasy. you both enjoyed each other’s company and the occasional exchange of goods was just an added bonus.

so naturally, you were now in satoru’s apartment, ‘helping him’ with his painting midterm. kneeling on his couch, completely nude.

well, maybe not completely. your shoulders were gently wrapped in a silk sheet, navy blue in hue. luxurious fabric gracefully draped over your arms, your thighs, your breasts; leaving just enough of your smooth skin exposed.

satoru languidly made his way towards a small stool positioned across from you, accompanied by a tall easel. he flashed you a sharp grin as he took his seat. he was a habitual manspreader, of course. how crude.

“very funny, satoru. i’ll think about that the next time i need a nude model,” you snapped at him.

“awh, what can i say?” his pretty, pink lips upturned in a sly smile. “you’re just too pretty, sweetheart. you don’t mind, yeah?” satoru reached towards a small side table which held his various supplies. he carefully selected a brush from a jar of many, and began mixing colors on his palette. you could do little but click your tongue in a disapproving tsk.

you’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying this at least a little bit. there was something about being so vulnerable with him that truly ignited your core. he was right, you didn’t mind being his model. you shifted slightly, warm leather of the couch sticking to your bare skin. “is this okay?” you inquired about your current pose. you arms were down at your sides, fingers gently resting on the edge of the seat.

“hmm..” satoru leaned forward, tapping the end of his paintbrush against his cheek before tucking it behind his ear. “i like it, but let’s try something different.” he rose from his seat and walked over to you, kneeling so that he’s just barely below eye-level. after much close examination, his spidery fingers began to move. he meticulously placed your hands atop your thighs, adjusting your arms in small places until the positioning was perfect. his touch is electrifying- it felt as though he was zapping your skin with every delicate brush of his fingers. “juuustt like this.”

bright blue irises stared up at you intensely. satoru batted his icy lashes at you in feigned contemplation. “you know, why don’t we just get this painting done another time? i have better plans for right now..” he drifted, making his overwhelming lust for you painfully obvious.

“oh satoru, is that all i’m good for? i thought i was your muse!” you pretended to be oh-so hurt, bringing your hand up to your face like a classic damsel in distress. truthfully, you had half a mind to shove your lips onto his right then and there. you had a feeling your meeting would end this way; they usually do. not that you minded, of course.

“don’t play dumb, sweetheart. you know i can’t resist you, not when you look like this.” satoru was rising to your level now, slotting himself in between the gap of your thighs. you acted fast, scooting backwards on the couch to make room for the man looming over you. soft lips hungrily pressed themselves against yours in a heated kiss. his pale fingers traced the curvature of your jawline, tilting your head upwards to meet him better. the essence of his tongue melded into yours - he always tasted like spearmint.

satoru pressed his clothed knee against your exposed core, causing you to writhe from the friction. he smeared your slick all over with no regard for the fabric. eager hands moved down from your neck to your tits, your stomach, and even further to your puffy clit. satoru drew long, teasing circles across the bundle of nerves before pressing down, hard.

“fuck! s-satoru,” you moaned. your back arched against the couch, blue silk falling off of your shoulders. your essence was practically dripping out now, pathetically staining the leather underneath you.

“you like that, baby? more?” he teased. as cruel as satoru tended to be in bed, he was always more than happy to oblige your requests; as long as you asked nicely, that is.

“more! please!” you nodded deliriously. he gently inserted two long, slender digits into your drooling pussy, pumping ever so slightly. satoru grinned devilishly at the sight, sharp canines on sickening display. truth is, he was so obsessed with you. he was obsessed with the way you squirmed at his touch. obsessed with the way you moaned his name. obsessed with the way your greedy pussy took whatever he gave you. you had him wrapped around your little finger and you didn’t even know it. he excitedly quickened his movements - fingers curling upwards to rub against the soft walls of your cunt. “p-please satoru, don’t stop,” you pleaded. but when has satoru ever listened to you?

satoru quickly pulled his fingers out before snaking his pink tongue out to taste them - to taste you. you whimpered at the loss of contact, but at least he was putting on a show. he maintained eye contact with you, making sure to moan and such as dramatically as possible.

“god, you look like a pornstar,” you chided.

“great! that’s what i was going for. y’know if this whole college thing doesn’t work out, i think i know my calling..” he remarked, smirking. you’d had enough of the jokes by now. rolling your eyes, you reached for the waistband of his sweats and pulled them down, along with his boxers. his achingly hard cock sprang against his abdomen, rubbing against the fabric of his t-shirt. “weren’t you ever taught to wait your turn? where are your manners?” he chuckled, surprised at your boldness.

“just shut up and fuck me already, satoru.”

“as you wish, baby.” the two of you shifted on the couch, with you lying flat and him kneeling over you. you were ready, waiting, desperate. he teased your entrance with his weeping cock. he tapped his angry red tip against your clit over and over, your body jolting in response. his hot length pressed past your slippery entrance. you squirmed, gasping at the fullness of your stretched cunt. “i know, sweetheart. i know.” satoru cooed condescendingly. even after your many hookups, satoru’s cock was still a sheer force to be reckoned with.

you pawed at his linen t-shirt, pushing it up to expose his toned abdomen. sometimes, you could swear his porcelain skin would glow under the lights. the angelic gleam of his soft flesh starkly contrasted the way he was fucking you right now: rough and deep and sadistic. his hips snapped sharply against the plush of your thighs, a lewd slapping noise hanging in the air. every deep thrust of his cock sent you closer over the edge.

satoru was nearly whimpering now, “god, you look so pretty like this. you know that, don’t you? say it. say it and i’ll let you cum.”

your cheeks instantly flushed at his words. you weren’t used to speaking of yourself in such a high regard. you really wanted to cum, though.

“i’m..i’m so pretty..” you winced. “satoru, please.”

“fuck yeah, you are. so pretty taking my cock. cum for me, sweetheart.” your poor, abused cunt gushed at his words. there was something about his boyish vocal tone that made his filthy language that much dirtier. he was fucking you in earnest now; too-hard cock fervently burying itself in your warmth. the deeper he went, the more unraveled he became. satoru’s moans soon morphed into needy, broken whines. he was babbling something along the lines of, “you feel so good, baby. s’fuckin’ good, fuck!”

his frenzied speech grew fainter and fainter as your orgasm began to approach. white-hot pleasure washed over your whole body, jaw falling slack. your soft walls had satoru in a vice-grip as your release ripped through you. tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, threatening to fall with even the slightest stimulation. satoru considered taking a mental snapshot of this moment and painting it, instead. you’d made a total mess of the area around you; your inners thighs glistened with your essence and satoru’s alike. the scene was filthy and utterly debauched - perfect.

once your labored gasps steadied into soft pants, satoru began to move again. he was gentler now, only rocking his hips at a moderate pace to reach his own orgasm. he whispered soft praises in your ears to compensate for the overstimulation.

“you’re doing so well for me, angel.”

“almost there, sweetheart.”

anything to ease your fucked-out nerves. when he finally did cum, though, it was utter euphoria. his hips stuttered and his eyes squeezed shut. he threw his head back between his shoulders, silvery tresses swaying in tandem. you’d later tease him about all of the lewd noises he makes in bed. secret is, satoru gojo moans like a girl. a beautiful coral hue spread over the apples of his cheeks and the tips of his ears. his hips eventually slowed to a halt, before he pulled out of you entirely.

his tone was much kinder now, “you alright? can I get you anything?”

you only lazily shook your head, “i’m fine, satoru. thank you. i think i’ll just lie here for a bit, yeah?” truthfully, it would have been difficult to do anything else. your sweaty skin was practically glued to the leather upholstery and you were experiencing that blissed-out relaxation you always felt after a good fuck. he understood.

satoru simply nodded, grabbed the blue silk sheet from the side of the couch, and draped it over you once again.

“you really do look comfortable, now.”

[cherryblossompink303]

Patience: ~Jungle Pool SOS!~

➼ pairing: Kyoya Ootori x Reader ➼ summary: when kyoya offers up his families yet to open resort no one could have guessed what would actually happen. ➼ what to expect: “I have a duty of care for you" ➼ warnings: none ➼ Part six | Part eight

Now considering this was technically considered a club activity you have to admit this was the most relaxed you had been in a while. The sun beaming down on you while you sun bathe, even the usual drama of host club antics get lost in the serenity of an empty resort.

"I must admit Kyoya, when I joked a few years ago that the ootori group should create a holiday resort and label it as a form of therapy I didn't think you took it seriously" you muse, eyes closed as you bring in the sun rays.

Kyoya shrugs but quickly remembers that you can't actually see him "Believe it or not I don't completely disregard your ideas, expecially when they truly have merit, my father seemed to agree"

You hum knowingly at what he actually meant by that statement "I'm assuming that he doesn't know that it was my idea then" You tease, not really being that mad about the stolen idea, it wasn't like Kyoya was getting any direct monetary profit from the resort. "I did try crediting you but he had a hard time believing a fifteen year old girl came up with it by herself"

You weren't exactly surprised, you had met Kyoya's father after all, you knew what it was like by now. Luckily you were too relaxed to care at that moment.

There was a moment of silence, peace between the two of you. It was actually something you enjoyed when spending time with Kyoya, the two of you never forced conversation for the sake of it, which on it's own sounds sad but it makes any words that the two of you do exchange all the more important.

"If...you have any more ideas like that...tell me about them...I can at least appreciate a good idea when it comes from you" you laughed under your breath, "Well of course" lifting your sunglasses to rest against your head, sitting up to face him properly "You have taste"

"Why thank you my dear" he joked, taking a sip of his drink, watching chaoes unfold as Tamaki and the Twins argue over what Haruhi should wear. Typical.

“Haru-chan! Let’s play! You wanna go swimming in the current pool with me?” Honey tugs on Haruhi’s arm with a pink float decorated with bunnies clinging to his waist.

“Nah. I’m not gonna swim today. Hold on. You know how to swim; you still need that float?”

Honey shakes his head, “Mm-mm. Just looks cuter this way, you know?” Honey spins on his heel to go prancing in the other direction toward the current pool.

“Mm, he’s right. Those bunnies are pretty cute.”

“He’s so innocent.” The twins materialize on either side of your chair despite the umbrella above them.

You sigh, leaning back in your sun lounger basking in the controlled chaos you are used to.

“No way! You’ve got it all wrong!”

You start, awakened by a powerful rumbling in the ground and echoing voice.

“Is that Renge?” Haruhi turns her head to the offending sound.

A cabana splits in half, and the trees part to make way for her infamous contraption, the rumbling sound now accompanied by her shrill laugh.

“How does she do that? It’s like the rig follows us.” Haruhi sweats.

you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose "One day, all i want is one day"

“That outfit’s pretty impressive,” Hikaru observes Renge’s two-piece bikini and a tattoo winding up her ribcage.

“What’s with the tattoo on your stomach?” Kaoru inquires.

“Oh, that? You don’t recognize it? I’m cosplaying.”

“Yeah, as who?”

“La-La~”

“LaLa? Like the manga magazine?” Kaoru grumbles.

“Her petite and slender frame, her blue eyes that light up young men’s faces, her singing voice! I am Quon Kisaragi!” Renge extolls.

“I wouldn’t have guessed.” Haruhi sneers.

“I had no idea who you were supposed to be.” Tamaki shrugs.

Once again, the twins and Tamaki are huddled in a circle as Renge poses for Haruhi, who watches, miffed.

“Hey, Boss, are you sure it’s okay for Renge to be dressed-”

“-like that?” They point to the girl in question.

“Well, yeah. That’s okay.” Tamaki shrugs indifferently.

“And why is that?”

“Because it’s cosplay? I guess.”

“Listen up, boys! You obviously need help understanding Haninozuka’s hidden motives. Look!” Renge notes, pointing over to Honey and Mori.

“Takashi!” Honey calls, landing in the current pool and letting the current sweep him gently away as Mori watches fondly.

“What are you talking about?” Tamaki implores.

“Think about what he said to you earlier.”

“Just looks cuter this way, you know?”

“He’s not being as sweet and innocent as you think.”

From the chair next to you, Kyoya shoves his glasses up his nose, “I agree. Try putting the word 'I’ at the beginning of that sentence.”

“I just look cuter this way, you know?”

“I look cute!”

“He planned that?!”

“That’s Haninozuka for you. In the last part, he felt threatened by another loli-boy type, so he’s taken steps to keep his rank. I should give him more credit. He’s a lot smarter than I thought.” Renge descends into the ground and disappears.

“Hey! Look at this, everybody!” Honey draws everyone’s attention to him and Mori.

Mori swims diligently against the current with Honey on his back.

“Check it out! Look! Even though we’re swimming really fast, we never go any farther than we are now!” He waves excitedly.

“So, what’s up with him?” Tamaki groans.

“Could he really be that smart?” Haruhi interjects.

Hikaru cocks his super-soaker water gun; the squeaking draws Tamaki’s attention to them before he’s blasted in the face with a stream of water.

“I got ya!” Hikaru winks handsomely, resting his weapon of choice on his shoulder.

“C'mon, Boss, let’s go! Let’s have a water gun fight.”

“It’ll be me and Kaoru against you. If you get it in the face, you lose. What do you say?” Hikaru implores, hand on his hip.

“Forget it.” Tamaki dries his face, “Why would I want to subject myself to a childish game like that?”

An idea forms in each of the twins’ minds.

All of a sudden, you’re grabbed by your wrist and pulled from your nap with an exclamation of surprise.

“y/n, I think it’s time that we got married! Then we’ll honeymoon in Atami!”

You quickly break from their hold, sitting back down on the lounger really not wanting to get involved. "Considering if y/n was going to marry anyone it would be me you clearly haven't thought through your plan very well" Kyoya spoke up, glaring at the twins before nodding towards haruhi.

The twins quickly pick up what he's putting down "Good point Kyoya, we were thinking about this all wrong, Haruhi clearly is the better option SHE should marry us"

"gee thanks" you mutter but its clear that it did the job of pissing off Tamaki, breaking out a waterfight between the three of them.

“I’ll get you guys! Sideways-leaping shot!” Tamaki launches himself sideways, but the twins shield themselves with two comically large tiki masks.

“That’s cheating!” When Tamaki lands, his foot catches on the previously discarded banana peel, and he tumbles noisily into a totem pole, head first.

You wince and suck in a breath through clenched teeth, “Oh- that didn’t sound good.”

One by one, the animals on the totem pole’s eyes glow an intimidating red until the final animal at the top is shining.

You remove your sunglasses from your eyes and place them on your head, “That… doesn’t sound good either.”

As if he senses something is amiss, Mori drops his glass at your feet, attention diverting to Honey in the current pool, still carelessly kicking his feet.

Something underneath the water rumbles, and a wave develops until it’s practically a tsunami. With wide eyes, Honey watches as it heads straight towards him.

“Wah~!” It crashes over him, and his bunny float is sent soaring into the air- but without him inside as he’s flushed in the wave.

“Honey-Senpai!” You lurch from your chair, and your sunglasses fall discarded to the ground.

“Mitsukuni!”

Both you and Mori hurry to see if you have enough time to save him, but Mori slips on the same banana peel and falls harshly to the unforgiving concrete.

“Mori-Senpai,” You call in concern.

Tamaki jabs a heroic finger in the air, “Gentlemen, we’re going after Honey-Senpai! That pool looks like the quickest way!” he announces, referring to the pool Honey was treading water in before he was washed away.

“Charge!” Haruhi, Mori, and the twins follow Tamaki’s lead as they sprint haphazardly in a random direction.

As you see that Kyoya’s stayed put, you decide that it might be best to stay put as well. His family did build this resort, after all.

“Wait! I wouldn’t go-”

It’s already too late; the club has come across the alligators in that direction. “There are alligators in there!” They flee as quickly as they can.

Tamaki jabs another heroic finger in the air, “Okay. So we can’t use that pool, then let’s try this way next!”

But where Tamaki has pointed, several more alligators appear, snapping their jaws in a warning.

“They’re here too!”

“And here!”

With his more petite, brown leather portable notebook, Kyoya’s glasses glint off the sun as he explains your current situation.

“Those alligators belong to the park’s tropical animals exhibit. I guess it is kind of dangerous to let them run wild.”

“And yet i'm supposedly the one with bad ideas?” You huff in frustration, peering at Kyoya from your crouched position on your nap chair.

“Though, the cause of our present situation seems to be the location of the switch for the current pool. I’ll have to have a little chat with our designers.” He snaps the notebook shut.

“Thanks a lot, you guys. I got some great data today.”

“You what?!” The club exclaims.

“Ok I'll admit that is a little smart" You shrug.

“This is a map of the Tropical Aqua Garden. This is our current location. We need to get here- I have a feeling that’s where Honey-Senpai probably ended up. It might be tough, because to get there, we’ll have to make it this jungle area in the southern block.”

Kyoya drags his pen along the map to indicate your path, “Distance-wise, we’re talking about 800 meters.”

“It looks like there’s a lot of undeveloped areas. And idea what might be lurking in those parts of the jungle?” Haruhi cautiously inquires.

“Since they’re still being developed, I’m afraid I don’t know.”

“Yeah, someone’s going to have to carry me.” You lift your arms high and glance around for any takers.

None. Yet. You’re going to have to work on your skills.

“Whatever’s out there could be even more dangerous-”

“-than alligators.”

“Alright. Now, this is a mission of survival! I know we can make it through the treacherous jungle in one piece… It is our sworn duty to save Honey-Senpai!”

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In the dense plant life and humidity of the inner workings of the jungle, the sunlight is much more filtered than it was out in the open.

“Wow, this place is just like a real jungle, huh?”

If you couldn’t see the glass dome and someone had dropped you off in the middle of this theme park with no knowledge as to how you got there, you might have believed you were in the jungle.

“Yeah, and I keep hearing all of these really strange animal calls,” Haruhi grumbles.

“You don’t think that all of those animal sounds-”

“-could belong to the real thing, do you?”

Kyoya shrugs, “To be honest, I’m not sure, but I do know that my family always strives for authenticity whatever the cost.”

"There surely must be some kind of ethical issue if that is the case, wouldn't be a good healing facility if there is a serious alligator injury" you pointed out, suprised that Kyoya's family would put actually dangerous animals in an enclosed area.

Kyoya hummed "I suppose so but it also wouldn't surprise me if that was on purpose to drive more business to our hospitals" he muttered only loud enough for you to hear really. It didn't surprise you either really but you dreaded to think if that was actually the case.

As if on cue, Mori slips and falls behind the group. At the loud grunt and crash, you all turn to him. He lays unmoving with a banana peel on his face.

“Mori-Senpai is-”

“-acting as clumsy as you do, Boss.” Hikaru and Kaoru worry.

“Shut up!” Tamaki snarls as Mori sits up from his position on the ground.

Your accusations are correct- Mori is more worried than you can imagine.

The sunlight diminishes greatly, and you look overhead to see the beginnings of rainfall.

“Uh-oh, it’s about time for the squall,” Kyoya notes as he checks his wristwatch.

“Huh?”

The first few drops fall, then it turns into a downpour. You and the club take refuge in a nearby pavilion with a straw roof.

“Hey, Mori-Senpai. You seem to be really close with Honey-Senpai. Are the two of you like childhood friends?” Haruhi inquires from her seat in the pavilion beside the twins as Mori leans on the edge, watching the raindrops fall.

"You don't know?" hikaru asked "They're cousins" Kaoru added. You lean back against the wall of the shelter you are all in, sighing as you look out into the rain.

"Now this is the kind of rain that I remember" you mutter to yourself, the rain reminding you of europe. Kyoya also leans against the wall next to you "Hello? It's me. Well, we've had an incident that's caused some trouble"

you look up to see Kyoya on the phone, most likely to either his father or someone high up in his private police force. "No she's fine. yes she's unharmed" You raised an eyebrow, obvious that he was talking about you although you were confused on why whoever he was talking to was asking about you.

In the mean time Mori and Haruhi seem to wander off "Yes, at once, please" he finally put down the phone. "My family's private police force is going to send in a search and rescue team to help us, they're better equipped to find Honey-senpai than we are. so let's just go back to the gate and wait there"

The others weren't listening except for you, too busy arguing over Haruhi. "Hey, where are Mori and Haruhi?" he questioned as all of you left the shelter to head for the gate, but he shrugged it off, figuring they would show up at some point with a search and rescue team around.

The other boys rush ahead, still arguing "when you were on the phone before, you were talking about me? weren't you?" You ask kyoya, looking up at him as he looks ahead. "I was, why do you ask?"

You dead pan at him, head tilting at the side "You know why"

Kyoya sighs "you know I have a duty of care for you, as does my father, if I call up our police force when it is known that I am with you it is protocol to ask about your safety" he explains.

He pauses, stopping in his tracks "You know, I'm don't believe I mentioned to them that there are other visitors here. Huh. Oh well" He shrugs carrying on, hovering a hand over your back to urge you forward.

however instead of finding the gate you instead find a series of police officers on the floor with honey, Mori and Haruhi standing before them. We break out into a run at the sight of them "Haruhi!" Tamaki cries.

"Are you alright?" he adds, the five of you out of breath as you come to a halt "Hey its Tama-chan!" Honey says as if he hadn't just knocked out a dozen guards.

"You okay, senpai?" Hikaru asks. "Haruhi!!!" Tamaki leaps for her "I was so worried" the twins bend down to check on the guards "I'm not sure what happened here, but at least they're alive"

"It's pretty amazing that this is Honey sepai's work"

"He must have been really holding back" they continue to poke at the guards

"Huh?"

“What do you mean he was holding back?” Haruhi queries with innocent eyes, although Tamaki is in serious pain.

“So then-”

“-you don’t know about Senpai?” The twins seem bewildered by her lack of knowledge.

“The Haninozukas are famous for their martial arts. Not only have they helped train the police and SDF forces, but they’ve also worked with several overseas military forces.” Hikaru elaborates as they abandon their fascination with the grounded soldiers.

“Honey-Senpai, in particular, has been called the dreadnaught of the Haninozuka family. By the time he was in middle school, he’d become the national champion in both karate and judo.”

Honey turns when he feels he’s called, then giggles with closed eyes.

That’s the karate and judo champion for you.

“Mori-Senpai’s no slouch either. He won the national championship in kendo when he was just in middle school.”

Haruhi looks to her savior, and he turns when his name is mentioned.

“So how were you able to find us, Honey-Senpai?” the twins inquire as Honey has returned to his natural aura.

“It wasn’t hard. It didn’t take me long to reach the end of the current pool, so I decided to look for you guys.”

“We humbly apologize!” A different, more foreign voice pipes in, and the attention of the club directs to the soldiers, now reoriented from their initial shock and kneeling to the ground in a show of respect.

“I am a second-generation student of the Ishizuka Dojo!”

“I’m a student of the Todoroki Dojo!”

“And I’m from the Otakeh Dojo! We are in your debt!”

Honey’s eyes and posture display innocence and confusion, “Why? Is something wrong?” His voice can easily be mistaken for an eight-year-old boy’s.

“Yes, sir! We’re so sorry, sir! We were unaware that we were searching for Mitsukuni Haninozuka! We’ve committed a terrible offense here! I apologize for this confrontation. But my dojo will be so excited to hear that I’ve come face to face with the great Haninozuka! I cherish this moment!”

You snort, scooting closer to Kyoya, “I bet if he offered them an autograph, they’d pass out.” You snicker. You almost draw a smile from him, but rather he gives you a condescending look.

“What? I bet I’m not wrong.” You pout.

Honey takes Mori by the wrist and gently brings him down to his level, patting him gingerly on the forehead, “Takashi~ you did an amazing job of protecting Haru-chan.”

This patronizing show of affection elicits a smile from Kyoya as he adjusts his glasses.

“I bet you were pretty lonely without me around, huh?”

Mori’s eyes dart to the right where Haruhi is stood, “I don’t know if I’d say that.”

Honey smiles with a fond giggle.

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With the sun setting, the clear, blue water now fades to an orange, coral color as it washes upon the shore. It has taken the rest of the day to walk back to where you’d begun this journey.

Despite his earlier resentment, you now ride on Kyoya’s back, limp arms slung around his neck and your cheek pressed to his back, eyes contently shut.

Back to your much deserved nap.

“You know, maybe we should go to the beach next.” The twins stride ahead with arms casually thrown behind their heads.

“Yeah, the beach would be nice.” Kaoru agrees.

Kyoya glances over his shoulder at your relaxed features and smiles fondly. He’ll have to keep you away from the water.

“You idiots, Haruhi’s not interested in anything like that.” Tamaki scoffs confidently.

Haruhi smiles gently, “Actually, I might like to go to the beach.” It stuns the club, each one stopping in their tracks to look at her.

“I may not be into this silly water park but I like the ocean. It would be nice to go the beach, and it’s so pretty.”

Completely recovered and acting like he hasn’t just opposed it, Tamaki glitters, “Yeah! Alright. Then that’s where we’ll go next time.”

“We’re all gonna go to the beach, Tama-chan?” Honey quips, perched on Mori’s shoulders.

He hums gently, “That’ll be fun, don’t you think?” His inquiry is directed to Mori below him.

Mori simpers fondly, “Yeah,” It’s not hard to pick up the genuine agreement in his tone.

Next time on patience 'The Sun, the sea, and the host club!'

Tag list (reply to be added): @skottch @cgmajor @rebirthbunbun @bbybubbles @blueberry19000

[pvlvsdog]

Uh hi!! I have never requested for LC so if it's.weirs sounding. Sorry.

Anyways Reader teasing the sinners? (Hc or smth. Whatever works best for you! :D)

No worries! Oh, if you’ve only seen the stuff my irl group left in my inbox /lh /nm /aff this isn’t weird at all! I try to work with hcs when I can, but not specifying that is on me, so until I get around to editing my bio, I suppose I do drabbles n stuff too. Or try haha

UNEDITED

Ryoshu lets out a ‘hmpf’ sound in a what that you can’t really tell if she’s annoyed or amused. She’s considered pretty intimidating by most so it is a bit funny to her to see you acting so bold. Especially when others look at you with disbelief. A few times you could swear the corners of her lips moved upwards. After all, she does enjoy a good quip or any other display of sharp wit. Which then leads to her teasing you right back, though her timing is always unexpected. It’s almost like a little game you two play, seeing where you can push the other one (within reason). And if asked, Ryoshu will shamelessly admit that she enjoys that part of your shared routine

With Rodya it’s a bit hit or miss. It really depends on what you say and it’s hard to read what will get a pass. I mean, to someone who doesn’t pay much mind to her, everything gets a pass. But there are times where you unknowingly will hit a sore spot and her joking demeanour will become a lot more rehearsed. Her main way of avoiding her self conscious thoughts is by making little jabs at others, so don’t be surprised if her ‘silly payback’ stings a bit. Sometimes it’s fine. But it’s not easy to tell if your teasing will make her blush or if it will ruin her day. Her ego, despite the front she puts up, is incredibly fragile and even when you’re innocently teasing her, she might assume you’re looking down on her. Even if she won’t outright say it, you will feel her discomfort shortly after

It’s only a little less unlikely for Don to misconstrue your words. Her love language is very earnest and genuine, so sometimes she just doesn’t get the purpose of your teasing. However, she’s less likely to assume anything bad by it and mostly it gets the desired reaction out of her. Doesn’t really tease you back though, it’s just not her style of affection, I think

You’d think Hong Lu falls somewhere in the similar category but he’s way more witty than he gets credit for and he goes along with your teasing. He sees it as the playful banter it is and when you least expect it he’ll innocently say something to get you just as worked up as you wanted to make him. Always a bit of a (pleasant) “jumpscare” when he does that. Hard to out-tease the lad, but it’s always a good time for both parties when you try :3

Ishmael gives you the most typical reaction. She’s way more used to being the one that does the teasing so when you start with your sillies, she tries to “fight back”. No luck though, you usually get her to flush and there’s no doubt your words affect her. She huffs something out for you to shut up but she’s not very convincing whenever she does so

But if you think Ish reacts strongly, you need to look at Heathcliff. Most times he’ll get absolutely awkward about it. Sure, sometimes he’s a bit oblivious. A bit like when he got offended that Dante thought he frequented clubs. When he was informed that it was a positive kind of comment, he got all awkward and didn’t really know what to do with himself, since that was not the kind of comment he expected to be directed at him. So if you want him worked up and temporarily not-functional, I absolutely recommend teasing the bloke

On a surface level, Faust is not only not affected but not very receptive to your teasing. She responds very matter-of-factly and with the same seriousness in her vacant eyes as if she was announcing the end of your work day. But don’t be fooled. There are occasions where she’ll pull an uno reverse card on you. Responding calmly she’ll inquire about the meaning behind your playful comment until you verbally run into a corner to the point where you’re admitting to the affectionate undertones of your teasing. You don’t even know how she does it. One second you’re being all silly and flirty and the next you’re all surrendered telling her how you like her, getting flustered by her painfully practical approach

The main difference with Outis is that she might genuinely not get it. Her guard’s always up and she’s been restless for so long, without a safe place to call her own, that playful banter almost seems like a luxury she can’t afford. She’s still in the mindset of surviving day to day (I mean… her job doesn’t exactly make it easy to let go of that notion) and you’re so casual with her. It makes her feel like a version of herself she had to bury a long time ago. But because of that contrast, she sometimes needs time to catch your teasing tone. She never assumes you mean anything bad by your comments, she likes you enough to grant you her patience and understanding way more than the others, but it takes up to 3 tries for her to catch the intent of your words. She’s not very good at reading back, but if you want to try flustering her, this is a good start

Then we have Meursault. He just really doesn’t get it. Each comment you make gets a painfully serious response out of him and you can’t really tell if he’s messing with you or if he really doesn’t get it. Knowing him, it might be the latter. Though if your teasing is more of the physical kind, you might affect him a bit. On the inside though, sorry, but he won’t let that kind of feeling you give him affect his “professional approach”

And we’re back to characters you would make an absolute mess out of. This time, the title goes to Dante. They are so used to being a tool and not having people pay much close attention to them (other than examining their changed body) that your teasing takes them by surprise. Add to that the fact that they can be rather awkward at times and you get the picture of your manager being delightfully graceless in their attempts to give any proper reaction or response. A few times your coworkers joked that you broke them. That did not help to make Dante more coherent

Before opening himself up, Yi Sang would be rather defeatist, not engaging much in your silliness. But that changes after he gets some time to grow and heal when the bus leads him to revisit his past. It’s much more easy to get a blush or a faint smile out of him and he might even surprise you with some (quite wordy) responses of his own

The only word to describe Gregor’s reaction is ‘exasperated’. He’s not like, outright mad or anything. Yeah, I mean, you do kind of have to watch not to hit a painful spot, but it’s easier to avoid with him (just no bug stuff and you’re pretty much in the clear) plus, as awful as I feel for saying this, he’s way too defeatist to counter most painful comments too. His main thing though is that he can’t believe how bold and blatant you are. Especially teasing him in this way. Him, out of everyone in the bus. I mean, he can’t call himself a catch and the way he sees it, there are much more attractive, put together and younger people you could be going after. Publically at that. Besides, some things you say are just way bolder than anything he could even say when drunk (or so he tells himself, tipsy Gregor is not as subtle as sober Greg would like to believe). If you knew him less, you could think that the way he sighs and shakes his head is a sign of total rejection, but that’s not the case. To be fair, if he tried to respond properly he would probably be more awkward. Romance is foreign to him and it stresses him out that he can’t really guess what people say in situations like this. The way you know you did good is when he completely goes blank. Honestly, he looks a bit staggered. The one time he did try to make a sound, he sounded like that too-

Lastly, Sinclair is a tough one. Because I don’t think it’s just so cut and dry that I can just say he gets cute and blushy. He’s… eager at heart (he wants to have someone, so having you show interest is definitely big for him) but so inexperienced and anxious, it doesn’t help his case. But he’s also one of the sinners that is used to being seen less-than and his insecurity makes him fear that your teasing might have different implications. He’s been called useless and naive, amongst other things, so many times. And he doesn’t want to be seen as some weak willed pushover. Especially not by you. You don’t think that, do you? He prays you don’t. His work is tough on him as is, it would be a lie to say you aren’t a beacon of light amongst his gore and guilt filled world. You’ve seen how easy it was to get him down when his coworkers made comments about his appearance. So it’s 50/50 with him. He might try to object. Sometimes he might actually come off too strongly. Other times he just fumbles with his words. And sometimes, when he is sure that your comment is definitely a good natured one, he just fumbles in general. Honestly, this is a half joke but I can almost see him blurt out ‘I want you’ in response like one time and then scurry off terrified wishing to never be resurrected again

[queenie-avenue]

Ok hear me out👉👈

Katie finding out (in this case she got friendzoned LOL) that Reader is in a relationship with someone else?? How do u think she takes it??

I've been such a lurker for quite some time and i love ur content sm 🥺🥺🥺🥺 *sending kisses*

Rejection is never the End.

💌 ⤻ THE CHEERLEADER, KATIE WILLIAMS

—> she won't ever give up on you.

⤻ reader is gender neutral, reader has a girlfriend, no cheating, manipulation, possessiveness, obsession, typical yandere behaviour, gaslighting, reader gets drunk and katie takes advantage of her

notes: thank you so much for the ask, I'm so sorry it's taken so long for me to get to this!! no proof-reading, we die.

🦋⤻ archives.

If you have a significant other, Katie will no doubt be furious, especially if you reveal it to her just when she decided to confess to you, of all things. She will be pissed off, but will just smile at you and pretend that everything is a-okay. You wouldn't even suspect a thing.

Sure, at first it'd be awkward with you and her drifting just a bit — which causes her to almost have a meltdown and abandon her cheer captain duties for a while — but eventually after a month of two, you both would go back to normal.

The difference would be that now she had access to your relationship status.

And boy, would she make use of it.

Out of consideration for her feelings, you'd of course not talk much about your significant other but Katie, Katie wanted to know.

It started small, she liked to visit your dorm normally so it was a usual day of her coming to see you after cheer practice in her short shorts and pink t-shirts.

“Oh, those flowers are so cute, did your girlfriend get them for you?” Katie asked, lounging on your desk as she stroked the petals of the bouquet filled with your favourite flowers. “They are so pretty!” She squealed, grinning at you as you sat on your bed.

“Yeah, my girlfriend came over just the other day. It was fun.” You smiled back, wanting to keep details of your beau brief out of respect and love for Katie.

“Does she get you flowers often?” Katie inquired, eyes fixated on the flowers, back turned to you now.

“Not really. It was just a special occasion yesterday, our one year anniversary.” You exclaimed, clearly giddy about the fact you had been together with your girlfriend for a year.

“Fun.” She replied, tutting her plump lips. “So, why didn't I know about her? I mean, you showed me pictures once but you don't really tall about her that much.” Katie commented as she leaned towards you.

“We don't talk about our relationship much…” You mumbled. “I mean- she's like secretive about it. So not a lot of people know.” You shrugged your shoulders awkwardly. Oh, [y/n], you really were such a horrible liar. Katie could tell in an instant that the idea of you relationship being kept secret made you antsy, uncomfortable. If it were *her* that was your girlfriend, she'd be parading you around proudly. Why couldn't you see that?

“Huh.” She huffed, eyeing you up and down.

That was how it started.

She made use of your insecurities about your relationship with your girlfriend and weaponised them against you. Slowly, you grew more worried about whether the reason your girlfriend didn't want to reveal your relationship was because she wasn't proud to be with you, or she wasn't committed to being with you or worst, that she was being unfaithful towards you. Katie didn't help matters, subtly showing you those stupid YouTube shorts with reddit stories that talked about how people who didn't make their relationships known typically cheated on their partners.

You slowly spiralled into madness, growing resentful of your girlfriend and more appreciative of Katie. Eventually, you would break it off with your girlfriend when things became too hard for the both of you.

You kept starting arguments with your girlfriend over why she wanted to keep the relationship a secret, you became too needy for her validation and she was annoyed with you constantly picking fights with her and also your budding relationship with Katie who seemed to find a way to antagonise your girlfriend every single time. Katie egged you on, overanalysing each word your girlfriend said or texted to you and reporting what she thought back to you. Most of which just made you view your girlfriend in a horrible light.

Eventually, you broke up with your girlfriend.

Just like Katie wanted.

She would soon swoop in to comfort you, tell you that it wasn't your fault that the relationship didn't work. Your girlfriend was the red flag, you didn't do anything wrong!

“Come on, pom-pom. Cheer up, you'll find someone much better than her. You were too good for her ass anyway.” Smiled Katie as she dragged you for a night of partying at a fraternity.

You got wasted, of course; attempting to drown out the sorrow of your freshly opened wounds.

Katie's hand snaked around your waist as you danced to the beat of the music, the loud thumps banging loudly in your ear as you drunkenly relied on the cheerleader for support. Before you knew it, the dancing morphed into Katie pulling you into the bathroom, your legs wrapped around her waist as she leaned closer into you, both sat on the counter of the toilet. The vague sounds of people banging the door outside as you both gazed into each others’ eyes. “You feeling better?” She asked, dark eyes looking into yours intensely.

“I… I still miss her.” You slurred, slumping your body into Katie's neck, letting out a dry sob. The cheerleader hummed as she placed a hand on your waist, another under your chin.

“You don't need to think about her anymore, okay? I'm here for you.” She pressed a chaste kiss to your lips.

Katie knew that you loved her, everyone did. It's just that your girlfriend was in the way. Now that she's not, you can be devoted to loving her, and only her.

[bloodrvvvsh]

Code Red, Code Blue. Chapter 1: Acquainted.

Synopsis: When the BAU is led to a case in Seattle, with Seattle Grace Mercy West as the focal point. And after an unfortunate incident involving two cups of hot coffee and a ruined pair of scrubs, Spencer meets a girl that changes his whole life.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Lexie Grey

Warnings: Typical CM discussions of crimes, typical Grey's discussions of gore and medical talk (very minimal, though!), meet-cute, literally one (1) offhanded "killing yourself" joke

Word count: 3.0K

Notes: My baby.. she's finally finished... Please enjoy, I spent way too long on this!

Likes are appreciated, but reblogs and comments help writers more!

Wednesday, September 29. 9:42 AM in Quantico, Virgina.

Spencer had only ever been to Seattle once.

Working in the BAU took him all over the country. Cases popped up in every corner, in every state, in every place you could possibly imagine. He had seen nearly every part of the vast landscape that was the US of A.

The last case that had led them across the country to Seattle was The Seattle Strangler, back when Gideon was still on the team. Spencer had mixed emotions about that thought. But he was a professional and he was going to do his job.

Their current case was as close as you could get to clean cut and dry in their line of work. Women in their 20s being stabbed. Pretty simplistic, right? 

The one connection each murder had, though, was that every single woman was eventually directed to Seattle Grace Mercy West. And while the hospital was a fairly major one, it was a Level 1 Trauma Center, after all, which meant a lot of patients, it was definitely raising a few alarm bells in their heads. Each woman was also eventually declared dead at that exact hospital.

It could never hurt to check every possible lead, could it?

Spencer used two fingers to rub at the sleep clinging to his eye still. He tried, and failed, to stifle a yawn as he shifted in his seat. Although he was quite used to struggles with sleep (hence his dependence on caffeine), it never truly got any better. 

“Late night?” Morgan inquired. He propped his arms on the top of Spencer’s seat, peering over the other man’s shoulder.

Spencer shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep,” he replied. He frowned softly, continuing to try and rid himself of the tiredness that stuck to his lashes before he was interrupted by another yawn.

God, he could really use some coffee right now.

He glanced down at his watch and his frown deepened. They still had at least another two hours until they would land. 

Spencer would consider himself a fairly patient man. He didn’t mind waiting, hell, he most often played the waiting game in his job as a BAU agent. But right now, sitting on that jet running on only five hours of sleep with not a drop of caffeine in sight, he was feeling just one moment away from simply losing it.

Not like it would actually happen, though. Spencer wasn’t that kind of guy. He was calm and reserved, even in the face of adversity. 

Hotch’s voice cut through Spencer’s internal monologue for the moment, snapping him back into reality. “We’re going to head to the police station first,” he began, casting a glance over each BAU member in eyesight, “After we get all the necessary facts, we’re going to head to the hospital. Sound good?” He was met with a round of nods from everyone and he nodded back.

~

Wednesday, September 29. 11:23 AM in Seattle, Washington.

Lexie needed a goddamn break.

Being a surgical resident had to be a punishment designed in one of the seven pits of hell. How dare she desire to save people's lives, right?

At least it was better than being an intern.

She loved her job, don’t get her wrong, being a surgeon was her dream. It’s just that she couldn’t remember the last time she got more than four hours of sleep a night and she was just so tired all the time. From running around constantly to several hours long surgeries to forty-eight hour shifts. 

Not to mention the constant drama and tragedy that filled the Seattle Grace Mercy West halls. You couldn’t turn a corner without hearing about someone sleeping with someone else’s boyfriend or about another MerDer breakup or another surprise pregnancy. Really, sometimes it was just ridiculous.

Lexie herself had been the victim of that good ol’ SGMW drama. She was trying to pull herself free from the clutches of it all, but it always seemed to follow them all. Like some sort of curse was placed on that very hospital.

But that was besides the point. The point was that she needed just one moment of peace, away from all the chaos of the hospital and the drama. Was that so selfish of her?

The sound of sneakers shuffling and her racing heart filled Lexie’s ears as she rushed through the halls. The occasional ‘excuse me’ slipped from her lips, trying not to crash into everyone that was in her way. 

When your attending pages 911, you don’t walk - you run.

Her feet skidded to a stop as the familiar emergency room came into view, nearly making her trip with the sudden halt. Her movements seemed almost practiced with the near mindless way she moved - triage gown, tie in the back, gloves. This wasn’t her first trauma, and it would be far from the last.

“What do we have?” Bailey’s voice cut through the millions of other noises filling the room - the rustling of fabric, the snapping of latex gloves on skin, the chatter of voices. The ER was ever far from being quiet.

“28-year-old woman stabbed fifteen times in the torso, majority in the chest,” Owen shot back. He rushed forwards when the glint of red and blue lights followed by the sirens that would follow them for the rest of their lives came into view, and the rest of them marched behind.

“God, overkill much?” Cristina muttered low to Meredith. Bailey, who heard everything always, shot a glare over her shoulder. Cristina threw her hands up in defense, eyes wide and eyebrows raised. Her face fell the minute Bailey turned away and she shook her head with a quiet scoff.

The doors to the ambulance flew open and out rushed a woman on a stretcher. “BP is 158 over 92, HR is 92,” an EMT announced. Owen cursed under his breath as he took the railing of the stretcher into his hands.

“She’s hypertensive,” he announced. Quickly, other hands began to grab onto the stretcher as well, guiding the women into the hospital doors. He barked out a few names and different orders and Lexie slowly loosened her grip on the railing as her feet quit keeping pace before stopping entirely. She watched as the woman was rushed towards a trauma room, a frown falling on her lips. Trauma was never a pretty sight.

With a sigh she made her way to the receptionist desk near the ER entrance doors where a few of the other residents left behind had gathered.

“That’s the third stabbing in less than two months,” April remarked. A little frown began to form on her lips as she flipped the chart in her hand. “And they’ve all been women in their late 20s.”

She didn’t have to say it. They were all thinking it. The glances exchanged spoke a thousand words.

“You don’t think..” Meredith trailed off. She shot a look towards Cristina, then glanced back at April. The current hypothesis wasn’t looking so hot.

“It’s probably just a weird coincidence,” Lexie was quick to interject. Her words did little to quell the tense energy that filled the emergency room. “I mean, Seattle’s a big city. Plenty of crazy people doing crazy things. I’m sure they’re not related.” She waved a hand dismissively. Then she added, “It is getting close to the holidays. Don’t crime rates increase during the holiday seasons, or something?”

The pager attached to her hip beeped. She groaned, a pout appearing on her face at the sound. She unclicked it from the waistband of her scrub pants to take a glance at the numbers displayed on the screen and she sighed once more. It was Derek.

With a murmur of, “I’ve got to go,” that was met with a few dismissive waves of goodbyes from her fellow residents, she made her way towards the elevators, absolutely not ready for whatever Derek had in store for her now.

~

Wednesday, September 29. 2:17 PM in Seattle, Washington.

One thing you never want to hear in a hospital is silence. And that’s exactly Lexie had been greeted when she emerged from the imaging room, a stack of paperwork and scans ordered by Derek in hand. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but something was absolutely happening and she’d be damned if she was left out of it.

It all started to make sense, though, as she made her descent down a floor of stairs and she noticed a group of her coworkers crowded behind a corner. Mentally she counted heads - Cristina, Meredith, Alex, Jackson, April.. All five of them in the same place at the same time, clearly hiding from someone (or something?), always spelled trouble.

Cautiously, she made her way towards the group. She tried to stand on her tip-toes, trying to look over their shoulders to see whatever the hell it was that was making them all stop in their tracks, but to no luck.

Finally with a huff, she decided to pipe up. “What are we looking at?” Her sudden appearance obviously spooked them, as they all nearly jumped at the sound of her voice, but they quickly relaxed when they realized it was just Lexie. She flashed a little smile that was short lived and didn’t quite reach her eyes with an utterance of ‘sorry’. 

“Them,” Meredith said. Lexie leaned to the side and she followed the finger that Meredith pointed with. Never would have Lexie guessed what would be standing before her right now.

There, talking to the Chief and Owen, was a group of people that certainly didn’t look like they belonged together. One man in particular, though, stood out among the rest - a tall man with curly brown locks and the most beautiful face Lexie had ever seen. “I heard they’re FBI agents,” Cristina cut in, knocking her out her little lovestruck daydream, and Lexie’s head snapped so quickly to look back at her, it’s a wonder it didn’t break.

“What?” Was all she could manage in response. “FBI, wh-” She shook her head, trying to clear her head from all the thoughts racing through it. “What would the FBI be doing here?” Her voice dropped low, almost to a rushed whisper.

Cristina shrugged. “Hell if I know.” Lexie frowned. And just as she opened her mouth, ready to say more, Owen gestured in the direction of their little gathering. And when the group of supposed FBI agents looked at them, they all took off, scattering away in their different directions, like roaches when you turned the lights on.

Except for Lexie. She was frozen in place, her blood running cold in her body when their hard eyes locked on her. She forced another smile, a nervous little giggle escaping her as heat washed over her cheeks in heavy waves. She raised her free hand to offer them a half-hearted greeting before pointing behind her with her thumb and then promptly spinning on her heel and hurriedly trying to escape the embarrassment that was that interaction.

~

Wednesday, September 29. 2:45 PM in Seattle, Washington.

Spencer had drank approximately four-and-a-half cups of coffee since landing in Seattle, and he was not quite satisfied yet.

Would he ever truly be satisfied with the amount of caffeine he consumed? Could anyone, really? The answer didn’t really matter. Not to him, anyways. Especially not now, when the tiredness ran bone deep and the day was nowhere near close to being finished. So, he was going to get another cup.

“I’m going to get some coffee,” he announced offhandedly as he pushed himself up from his seat. 

Morgan raised an eyebrow at the young genius as he started to make his way in the direction of the coffee machines. “Really?” Morgan said. “Another cup of coffee? Seriously, kid, you’re going to kill yourself with all that caffeine and sugar you consume.” Spencer waved a hand in response and Morgan could only shake head with a small smile falling over his lips.

“Oh, you’re getting coffee?” JJ perked up, craning her neck slightly to catch Spencer’s eye before he disappeared. “Do you think you could get me a cup, too? Please?”

Spencer nodded. “Cream and sugar?” A grin split across JJ’s face at the idea that he remembered what she liked in her coffee. Although, with Spencer, he couldn’t have possibly forgotten in the first place. “You know it!” she called out to him. “You’re the best, Spence!”

“No problem,” he called back to her as he turned the corner. 

The trek to the elevator and up to the coffee carts was not a particularly long one, but it did give Spencer enough time to get lost in his thoughts. His movements almost ran on autopilot as he got on the elevator and pressed the button with the number four painted on it.

His feet moved for him, guiding him in the direction of exactly where he wanted to be. Ideas and different theories of their current case filled his head as he walked.

All of this to say - he was not paying attention. Not one bit. Not even as he mindlessly ordered two coffees - one mocha latte with room for sugar and one black with cream and sugar. Not as he began to round the corners that he was starting to become familiar with from turning around so many times due to his near caffeine addiction.

Not even as another body rounded the same corner as him.

It wasn’t until the harsh impact came, the colliding of two people knocking hard into each other and hot coffee being dumped all over each other, that he really came back to reality.

Lexie gasped as the coffee crashed right onto her, burning through her scrubs and stinging her skin. She glanced up, wanting to look whoever just ruined her scrubs in the eye, and it was like the whole world slowed for a moment.

It was cute supposed FBI agent guy. 

Her jaw went slack, practically hitting the floor, and all she could do was stare. She almost wanted to pinch herself, check if any of this was really real, but the hot coffee burning her skin told her it was true.

“I’m so sorry,” The words fell out of Spencer’s mouth in an instant. He glanced around in search of something, anything, that could clean up the mess he just made, but he was coming up empty. “Really, I am so sorry-”

Lexie shook her head. “It’s fine-”

Spencer’s eyebrows pinched together. “I just spilled hot coffee all over you, it is not fine.” Lexie could feel her heart skip a beat.

“No, really, it- it’s fine,” she chuckled. “I have another pair of scrubs in my locker, it’s okay.” Spencer didn’t seem satisfied with that answer.

Now it was his turn to shake his head. “Can I make it up to you? You know, for.. getting you doused in coffee and ruining your scrubs.”

Lexie hesitated for a moment. While he was very cute, and seemingly very sweet, she barely knew this guy.

But something inside her told her to take her chance.

“Uh,” she bit down on her bottom lip. She waited for a beat. “Yeah,” she found herself saying, “Yeah, why don’t you buy me a coffee?” Spencer’s whole face lit up at her answer.

Could you blame him, though? Even covered in coffee, the woman before him was absolutely stunning.

“My name’s Spencer,” he finally added. “Spencer Reid. Doctor Spencer Reid, actually.’” Lexie arched a brow at him, head tilting to the side. “Doctor, huh?” she echoed. “Are you, like, new around here, or something? Did you transfer from another hospital?”

“Oh, no. I- I’m not an MD, I’m, uh.. I’m a PhD.”

Lexie slowly nodded her head. “Right,” she muttered. The smile on her face couldn’t seem to budge. “Well, I’m Lexie,” she stuck a hand out to him, “Doctor Lexie Grey, MD.” They both grinned at her words before chuckling. Spencer found himself thinking her name was beautiful. He glanced down at her outstretched hand and then so did she, and for a moment they were both just staring at her hand.

Finally, he spoke up again, “I- I don’t do handshakes,” he spit out. “The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It’s, uh- it’s actually safer to kiss.” 

Lexie nodded her head once more and let her hand fall back to her side. She ran her palm down the side of her thigh, subtly trying to wipe the gathering sweat. A part of her was tempted to ask if he wanted to kiss her, but she held off. For now.

“So, are you a germaphobe, or something? Or do you just know a lot of different facts?”

“Both, actually,” he said. “I, uh, I have an eidetic memory, so I remember everything I read. A lot about bacteria.”

“An eidetic memory?” Lexie echoed. “Really?”

Spencer nodded, a smirk worming its way onto his lips as he began to rock himself on his heels. “And an IQ of 187 and I can read 20,000 words per minute.”

“Oh, so you’re some sort of super genius, is that what this is?”

Spencer shrugged and his smile seemed to grow. “I don’t think intelligence can be defined by arbitrary measures. But for all intents and purposes, I am a genius.”

“You know, that’s really weird, because I actually have a photographic memory,” Lexie said. She tilted her head to the side again. “Does that make me a genius, too?”

Spencer chuckled. “Well, being a doctor isn’t an easy thing to achieve. Especially being a surgeon. I would imagine you have to be fairly smart to become one.”

Lexie’s own smile seemed to grow as well. “Well, Dr. PhD, why don’t you tell me a little bit more about yourself?” She nodded her head in the direction she came from before she started to walk. And Spencer found himself following behind her.

For some reason, Spencer felt like he wasn’t going to regret spilling coffee on her.

for @gghostwriter bc i don't have a taglist <3

(if you would like to be crcb taglist, let me know!!)

[lemoncrushh]

Fratboy Harry - Part 6

Summary: Harry Styles was a boy with a reputation, one that you couldn’t care less about. Yet one night at a frat party changed everything.

Warnings: Smut, drinking, angst, a very cocky Harry. 18+ ONLY!!

Part 6 Word Count: 1891

STORY PAGE

"Hey," Harry breathed, his chest falling.

You sucked in your lips, unable to utter a word.

"Did you just get here?" he asked. "I didn't hear you knock."

You swallowed and nodded. "Yeah, just got here."

Your voice was a bit shaky, but you prayed he didn't pick up on it. A smile slowly spread across his face, instantly melting away some of your fear.

"Come in," he said, stepping back to allow you space to enter.

Once inside, he shut the door behind you and offered you a beverage. This time you took him up on his beer offer, hoping it might help take the edge off. You knew it was none of your business, but whomever he'd been talking to on the phone had really set him off and it unnerved you.

You sat on the edge of Harry's sofa while you waited for him to return from the small kitchen. You spotted his phone on the coffee table, face up. You secretly wondered who the person was he'd spoken so harshly to, if it was male or female, and if they were a saved contact in his phone. You shook your head, cursing yourself for even caring. It didn't concern you.

Just as Harry rounded the counter of the kitchen, you heard a sound and saw his phone light up with a text in the corner of your eye. You didn't have time to read the name entirely before he handed you a beer, but you could have sworn it started with a J and ended in an ie. Jamie? Julie? Jennie?

"Oh, thanks," you muttered, accepting the bottle.

Harry walked around the coffee table and sat beside you, grabbing his phone.

"Shit," he commented under his breath, apparently perturbed about the text.

He shoved his phone in his pocket, his brows furrowed. Sipping on your beer, you decided to finally say something.

"You're angry," you said softly.

Harry rested his forearms on his knees and dropped his head with a sigh.

"Yeah," he admitted. Then he lifted his gaze. "You heard me."

You bit your bottom lip and nodded.

"Yeah...sorry."

Harry shook his head. "Don't be. I'm the one who should be sorry. I didn't mean for you to hear that."

"Someone's harassing you?" you inquired.

Harry sighed again, loudly, as he ran a hand through his hair. "You could say that."

Just then you heard the text alert again and Harry pulled his phone from his pocket.

"Fuck!" he exclaimed through gritted teeth.

"Why don't you just block their number?" you asked before thinking. Realizing you'd let the words slip, you quickly apologized. "Sorry. It's none of my business."

"It's okay," he said, though he offered no further explanation. You decided then to drop it.

You sat back on the sofa, gazing around the room. It looked a bit different in the daylight than it had at 3AM, though to be honest you hadn't spent much time in the living room. There wasn't much to it. It was a tiny room, only slightly bigger than his bedroom, and the only items it housed other than the sofa and coffee table were the television and an old recliner that looked like it had seen better days. On the far end of the room next to the kitchen area was a circular table and two chairs. The only things that adorned the walls were a framed concert poster of The Who and a poster print of Edvard Munch's The Scream. Overall it was a pretty ordinary room, typical of a university student or single guy.

"So," you sounded before turning your head towards him, "what do you feel like doing?"

When Harry didn't reply, you broke your gaze from the painting and looked at him. He was staring at you with his cocky smirk, bringing the inevitable butterflies to your stomach and making you weak in the knees.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, though you couldn't help but giggle. "I suppose that was a stupid question."

"No," he continued to grin, shifting his position on the couch. "Not stupid."

Harry now sat two inches from you, his arm spread across the back of the sofa. Slipping his hand under your ear, you felt his breath brush across your face. His green eyes literally glowed as he leaned in.

"Just wanna kiss you right now," he murmured.

You let out a tiny sound before his lips met yours, kissing you tenderly. Your limbs felt like limp noodles as you tried your best to lift your arms to wrap around his neck. Deepening the kiss with his tongue, Harry pulled you closer, his other arm encircling your waist.

"Mmm," he sounded when your lips separated. "I really like kissing you."

As a smile spread across your face, you heard Harry's phone again. He huffed out a breath, though he didn't make any effort to look at it. Pressing his forehead against yours, he slid his hand down the side of your neck to your chest, cupping your breast. Even through your clothes, his touch was electric. He devoured your lips again as his thumb grazed across your nipple, sending almost a shock to your core. It was so intense you even let out a slight moan. Harry responded by gripping your hip with his other hand, nearly pinching you.

"Wanna go to the bedroom?" he whispered against your mouth.

There was no way you could refuse. You nodded as you gazed into his eyes. Rising from the sofa, Harry held his hand out to you which you took eagerly.

Following him to the bedroom, you closed the door behind you as Harry sat on the edge of the bed. As soon as you sat beside him, he guided you back to lie against the pillows, his lips immediately finding yours again.

In that moment, you realized something. The weight of his body against yours, his mouth claiming yours with fervor, was your favorite thing and you couldn't get enough. You still knew next to nothing about this boy, but it didn't matter. Even if all that ever came from this relationship was sex, you didn't care. You wanted him. You had to have him. How ever much he was willing to give, you'd take it.

It was you that made the next move, slipping your hands underneath his shirt, raking your fingernails back down his chest and stomach. Lifting his body slightly, Harry studied your face for a second before removing his shirt. When your fingertips encountered his skin once again, he growled low, his eyelids heavy.

"Baby..." he breathed before gripping the hem of your shirt. Understanding his intention, you sat up and allowed him to slip it over your head.

As he held you against him, his fingers in your hair, he whispered, "You do something to me, love. I can't seem to get enough of you."

You blushed and bit your lip. "I was just thinking the same thing."

With a grin, Harry laid you back down kissing your throat down to the hollow between your breasts. You felt his hand slide up your thigh as his hips pressed against you. You could already feel how hard he was, even through his jeans.

His fingers found their way underneath your bra, lifting it gently. When the pads of his fingers met your bare skin, you nearly came undone. He squeezed your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, causing you to moan out loud.

Harry lifted his head with a chuckle and reached behind your back to unhook your bra. After tossing it on the floor, he brought his lips to other nipple, giving it similar treatment with his tongue.

"Oh God..." you swallowed.

"You like that baby?" he asked before switching breasts.

Unable to form words, you merely nodded. His wet tongue made you insane as you bucked your hips against his. Harry sat up then, gazing down at you as he began to unbutton his jeans. When you reached your hand out to him, he took it and pressed it against his abs, sliding it down towards his exposed underwear. Just as you reached the waistband, you heard a loud noise.

"What the fuck!" Harry exclaimed.

The noise repeated, an ear-splitting banging and you realized it was coming from the front door.

"Shit!" Harry shouted, climbing off the bed. He swung open his bedroom door with a vengeance, quickly buttoning his jeans.

You laid on the bed in terror before sitting up and reaching for your shirt and bra. You heard the banging once more, this time echoed by a screeching voice yelling out Harry's name.

A girl.

Fuck.

Harry must have reached the front door before she finished banging on it again. You heard him curse again followed by a sound that resembled someone crying.

"Harry!"

"God dammit, Jamie, I told you!"

"Please, Harry, I have to talk to you!"

"I have nothing to say to you!" he argued.

"Please!" she begged. "Please don't end it like this!"

Your eyes nearly popped out of your head. End it? He had a girlfriend? Shit!

"Just...let me in, please, so we can talk," Jamie sniffed.

"No," demanded Harry. "I told you it's over. In fact, it was never anything. We were never anything."

"Don't say that!" she cried.

Although you felt like you might hurl, you managed to rise from the bed and walk to the open doorway of the bedroom. Harry stood at the front door, his bare back blocking your view of the girl.

"It's not gonna happen, Jamie. Just leave me alone."

Harry's tone had calmed a bit, though his voice was still firm.

"Is...is there someone else?"

You saw Harry's shoulder rise and fall with a shrug.

"Maybe. But that's no concern of yours."

You heard a sob come from Jamie's throat as you caught sight of her blonde hair.

"I suggest you leave now before I call the cops," Harry added.

Jamie cried harder and you saw her head shake. She turned to leave just as Harry lowered his arm from the door frame. That was when you recognized her.

The girl from the party.

Harry closed the door, locking it with determination. Turning around, he spotted you in the doorway. His shoulders dropped apologetically, or maybe he was embarrassed. You didn't give him time to explain, however. Crossing the living room, you grabbed your keys from the coffee table where you'd left them when you'd arrived.

"Where are you going?" Harry raised his brows.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. "Seriously?"

"What? What happened?" he asked nervously.

"If I have to spell it out for, Harry, you're even more or a moron than I thought. Goodbye."

Pushing past him to the front door, you fumbled with the lock before finally opening it.

"Y/N, wait!" he begged, reaching for your arm.

"Don't touch me!" you shouted.

"She's nothing!" he exclaimed. "We weren't even dating!"

"Save it!" you held up your hand. "I don't give a shit."

With that, you stormed out the front door to your car. You just happened to see another car leaving the parking lot, and you knew it was her. Turning back, you saw Harry standing dumbfounded on the front porch. You shook your head in disgust.

You should have known.

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