#1.7k words more or less

[chobunz]

── smarty. ( pjs ) 🪷

๑ Jay has had enough of your brattiness for today, there’s only so much he can take.. so he may as well teach you a little lesson, right?

pair: bf!jay ㅊ gf!reader | warnings: smut, angst (??), small age gap (jay is 5 years older), d/s dynamics, bratty!reader, slight ddlg themes, spanking, p.ssy slapping, oral (f. rec), edging, crying, daddy kink, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, reader is implied to be a curvy/thick girly but anyone can read tbh ! | words: 1.7k

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“what’d i tell you about saying things like that?”

“i don’t care, it’s true !” you snarled, if it hadn’t been made clear how aggravated you were, it sure as hell was now.

you and jay spent the weekend with his parents at a resort somewhere in jeju. everything was going fine at first, that was until an unexpected guest invited themselves to join your little ‘family trip’. her name was hanna ? halie ? you don’t know and you didn’t care. what fogged your mind for the rest of the trip was how she clung up onto jay like the smoke to dry ice.

what agitated you even more about her was her need to call you out asking you a million questions about your clothing and how she’s so shocked that jay settled down with someone like you. all of her backhanded compliments would rub you the wrong way and she just gave you weird vibes. it’s as if you weren’t “pretty enough” to date him; according to her at least. don’t get it twisted, jay definitely shut all of that down. he wouldn’t let any woman pin you as anything less than you were. a fucking goddess.

“why’re you acting like this? what’d i even do?” he paused. “what haneul does has nothing to do with me.” he continued, eyes focused on the road. he’s become fed up with your constant nagging. maybe it’s just his level of maturity that makes him unable to see it, but he doesn’t understand why you worry so much, it was as if every ‘i love you the most’ ‘you’re my favorite’ ‘it’s only you’s’ didn’t matter. he felt like his words held no weight whatsoever.

“nothing to do with you ? hah, you’re the one who let her bombard our vacation. might i add family vacation.” you sterned, shifting your body closer to the door of the vehicle, looking out the window.

“what did you expect me to do y/n? she’s been a family friend for years now, i can’t just tell her to fuck off and go somewhere else. she’d go crying to my mom about how mean i was to her and that’s just extra drama that i don’t need right now..” he exhaled heavily, glancing at your avoidant figure. when he got no reply from you he left it be, turning up the music to avoid the awkward atmosphere the both of you created.

๑ ๑ ๑

“babe, can you pass me my frames ?” jay dared to ask even though you’d been ignoring him since the incident from earlier.

“y/n.” “please ?” watching as you hadn’t budged even a bit he grew upset. it was already bad enough for him that you were acting like he didn’t even exist, which was fine. though, he wouldn’t just take your constant disrespect.

so he got rid of what seemed to be your main source of attention. your phone.

“what the fuck, jay !” you reached at him. “give me my phone !”

“jay !” he mocked, his voice altering to sound high pitched like yours. “don’t you see that i’m trying put things back together? why do you have to act like such a child.” he was disappointed in you. you were a fully legal adult, yet your actions said differently.

“strip.” jay broke the silence you let fill the room. you were hesitant, and confused, but at least you were actually looking at him now. “you heard me, now.” his brow raised as his mouth slipped a scoff.

were you just gonna let him boss you around ? definitely not. were you feeling intimidated ? yes. but your pride stood stronger than the trouble you’d get into. you breathe heavily finding your way to the door of your bedroom for your dramatic escape; until you felt a tug at your arm and then the softness of your mattress, cosigned with the weight of your built boyfriend.

“i guess i have to do everything myself today, huh ?” jay sounded calm but you knew otherwise, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t let this play out just to see this side of him. ‘cause you did. hell, you felt your wetness dripping past the wall of your ass, the sticky sensation sending your body chills.

the jingle of his belt caught your attention, but before you could even glance at him, your face was meshed with the comforter of your shared bed. you shriek.

“jay— !”

“oh now you wanna talk ? huh, funny.” his hand sent goosebumps throughout your body as he runs his palm over your clothed ass. “it’s a shame you don’t listen. now your pretty tails gonna be all red.” he pinched the fabric of your skirt flicking it upwards onto your lower back.

“ ‘m sorry..” you uttered feeling him tug at your underwear.

now, jay was ignoring you. all you felt was him adjusting your waist, so that your ass sat in the air.

“‘m really sorry..ja—” you pause, shrieking at the leather that came in contact with your silky skin. if you could describe the feel of it, it’s like a slow burn, a slow burning that spread like wildfire everytime he unleashed the branded weapon on you.

discipline is a topic your parents took lightly. yeah, they disciplined you, but it was never a ‘bend over my knee’ type of discipline. more like, every morning you wake up ‘sit in that corner’ type of discipline. jay never went soft on you when it came down to it. he wanted to make sure you never do whatever you’re in trouble for again.

“crying ? what’re you crying for,” jay never pushed aside your emotions, he had to hear you out or his guilt would eat him alive. hearing you sniffle shot a sort of worry in him.

“listen, you put yourself in this situation—” he paused throwing his belt. “you already know what happens when you wanna act like a brat.” he palmed your cunt. he wasn’t going to baby you this time, that’s all he ever did. maybe this was partially his fault too..

subconsciously, you felt yourself grinding on his hand. you were needy, you always were after a punishment, even if he didn’t know. but now, you were on display. there was no way he wouldn’t find out.

“you’re such a fucking slut,” his thumb caressing your entrance, pushing your sweetness through your dewy folds. “already so wet for daddy, hm?” his thumb slid through your sticky walls in a in and out motion. your slick caking his finger everytime he pulled it from inside you.

“please..” was a constant that came from your mouth. you didn’t know what you were pleading for. more ? less ? what was it ? you only knew that he made you feel so good. the look of him drenched you. you wanted him to slut you out. ruin you.

“please ? please what?” he couldn’t help but snort at you. the mere thought that you can get what you want with just a please— scratch that. the thought that you think you can get whatever you want after testing his patience, made him laugh. “please.. forgive me ?”

“i dunno..m” you slurred, you were estatic. just his thumb, making you feel so dumb. it made you feel small, like you were nothing but a tiny spectacle of dust.

“you dunno..? wan’ me to help you find out ?” you were flipped onto your back before you knew it. once you saw the shift in his eyes change, you knew what he was prone to do. the thought itself making you spread your legs wide open.

you even made the mistake of trying to rub yourself. that quickly got disposed.

“you lost your damn mind ?” his hand reached down to slap your weeping pussy.

“baby, i can’t wait.. please!” you whined watching as he kneeled down, face between your begging thighs, hands cupping each pretty chunk of flesh.

“but you can.” “matter of fact, you will.” he blew onto your core. the cold sensation bringing your hips to a jolt. his eyes scanned your smaller figure watching every expression that played out on your face, then down to your breasts. “lift up your shirt, let me see your beautiful body, baby.”

earning yourself a “good little girl.” when you comply.

๑ ๑ ๑

you hadn’t gotten a break since he started his mouth on you. drinking in your first orgasm, then the second. seems like you were now on your third.

“fuck.. jay.” you groaned your hips aching to move in his grasp. you’d try not to breakdown whenever his nose came in touch with your throbbing clit.

“you done ? talk to me baby.” he growled against your heat. his warm breath made you thirsty. he was eating you like it was his last supper. ripping you to absolute shreds.

“i’m gonna come, daddy..” your legs were shaking, your voice was whiney, and you needed an exhale. once he started sucking on your clit your back arched. at him, the feel, and the thought of him, making you feel.

“yeah, you gonna come for me ?”

“yeah.. wan’ come for you..” you spoke through labored breaths. once your moaning got louder, he stopped. he’d love to make you come, third times a charm. but he wasn’t going to. he basically lured you in just to trick you.

“jayy !” “it was right there, i was about to cum !” you childishly whined at the begging sensation between your legs. the quivering feeling making you force your legs closed to suppress the throbbing feel. you felt his hungry stare on you. you knew he wanted you. it’s when you realized this wasn’t an after punishment treat. he was edging you. right after overstimulating you. how cruel..

“aww, look at you ! my pretty girl..” he pouted at you, your sad, twitching state. you were groaning for more as he watched you. pitying you. how could you have thought it was over? after a mere spanking ? silly.

“i guess you really thought huh.” he cackled. “ooh ! should we order room service.. i’m kinda hungry. you ?” he got up to go and search for the phone.

maybe you did deserve this. shouldn’t be acting so damn bratty all the time, even if it’s in your nature to piss him off. now look at you. eyes all watery, and a mess between your legs.

oh well, not his problem.

[hoshigray]

hear me out🙏 imagine student body president!sukuna and delinquent!reader😍 same scenario but just switched

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i hear you, loud AND clear !!

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: student body president! Sukuna x bratty delinquent fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern setting; you and kuna are college seniors - oral (m! + slight f! receiving) - face + throat fucking - clitoral play (sucking) - impact play (cheek + pussy slaps) - fingering (f! receiving) - standing + piledriver positions - unprotected sex - overstimulation - dumbification - degradation (brat, cumslut, pig, slut, whore) - blackmail - dick piercing (frenulum) - mention of drool/spit and tears.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.7k

If there’s one thing that Sukuna loves more than anything, it’s power.

For Sukuna, the pinnacle of power is not just a status but a destiny he believes is his alone. In his heart of hearts, he knows he is the one who can keep this school in check, his control palpable in every corner of the campus.

Having Ryōmen Sukuna as the student body president of the senior class was either the best or worst thing, depending on who was asked. Although intimidated by some faculty and professors, they saw him as a significant influence on maintaining the students’ behavior for the college’s image. As for his peers, some would vouch that he was the scariest person they've ever met within their college student’s behaviors on campus. As for the students…whether they made sure not to get in the salmon-pink-haired man’s way, did as they were told, or generally avoided getting in his bad side all around, the truth was known in the air: Sukuna is a force not meant to be reckoned with. 

So, dealing with people who stand in his line of power will be dealt with — especially brats like you.

You were the biggest thorn in Sukuna’s side, a true innocent fool who dared disobey him without fear of consequence. For one, you were such a disrespectful minx, always speaking to him with such a foul mouth as if his aura that frightens others doesn’t shake you down. You bat your eyes at him during his lectures, dumb doe eyes that flutter with dull eyelids as if not a single word from his mouth was processed in that mind of yours as you’ll just wound up doing the exact shit again within a week or less. You have no amount of respect for his superior status, treating Sukuna like some big shot. 

“Tah, you don’t scare me, Prez!” You mocked with a laugh. “You and your little tattoos can go somewhere and make the other babies piss their pants and leave me the hell alone. Mind your business and stay outta mine.”

God, to say you were insufferable was scratching the surface. Sukuna can admit that nothing in his last year of college would allow him to experience absolute euphoria than crushing that childish grin off your face. It’s all he can think about whenever he has the misfortune of seeing your name or catching your face in the halls on his way to lectures and meetings.

But then again, if he can’t discipline you in the way he wanted on school grounds, it doesn’t mean you’re safe from him on the outside.

And then, like a miracle to his prayers, he finally had the dirt to give him all the more motivation. His second in command, Uraume, had found some evidence of your inappropriate behavior on the school’s campus. Pictures and videos alike, his smile grew bigger the deeper he looked into it.

Images of you flashing your bare tits in what seems to be a party in one of the dormitories and some drunk guy motorboating your chest, another of you smoking weed in one of the laboratories, which were undoubtedly smoke-free, and one portraying you fingering yourself in while sucking off one of the basketball athletes in the gymnasium men’s locker room. And the cherry on top was explicit videos of yourself that would tarnish the school’s reputation and have you expelled in seconds — absolute music to Sukuna’s ears. 

The thought of destroying your image and exposing you to the filthy bitch you have put a spark of joy in the student body president’s cruel heart. But what would the fun be if he threw this evidence out all at once? He was a man who loved to drag out the torture of his victims. So, when he pulls you aside, to your dismay, and showcases the dirt he has on you, the look on your face? Not even a picture would be enough for him to enjoy such a glorious reaction. He never thought he’d see where you’d beg and plead to him on your knees, only fueling the superiority within his stance.

However, he likes to play with his food. So, he’ll put his hands up, “Alright, fine, I won’t take this to the higher-up…” yet the smirk didn’t match the comfort expressed. “On one condition.”

And for said condition? To use you and see your talents for himself.

“Damn, this mouth really knows how to work, huh?”

Oh, to be fucking your face in the student body government lounge isn’t something he’d expect. But holy shit, is he not fucking complaining. He throws his head back as his pelvis relentlessly smacks the plump of your soapy lips. His hands grabbed your head and forced you onto his length, which you were crying on like crazy.

Tears roll down your face; the harshness of his ruts sting like hell. You could only grip his jeans to steady, yet the more he bullies his dick into your throat, your train of thought becomes more impossible to follow through. 

He slaps your cheeks, “Pay attention, bitch,” he curses from above and yanking you by the ear. “Loosen that jaw of yours and suck me off like the cumslut you are.”

Your glare gratifies him, watching you obey his words and hollow your cheeks. Jesus, the tightness of your throat has shivers crawl to his shoulders.

“Mmmff! Mmmm!!” Your muffled whimpers were all his ears could pick up on, and they made him sigh heavenly. He peers down to meet such a naughty image: your lips coated in saliva and his precum bubbling and piling with every snap and pull of his hips. Your tears and furrowed brows gave him the hugest ego boost of his life, making the devilish superior push feverishly into your mouth. 

“—Mnnph! Yesss, yeah, that’s right; keep cryin’, you fucking brat.”  Fuck, he’s so fucking close; your mouth and tongue were doing mad work for him to release, busting his load into your throat and succumbing to you to drink and accept his semen.

Balls deep to your lips, saliva mixes with salty tears, striking down your chin. You swallow every bit of him with a satisfied hum, eyes rolling up when he grinds his pelvis for his dick to go deeper.

But that doesn’t mean you should rest — hell no. Sukuna rips his erect limb out of your mouth and pushes you to your back with a kick. You couldn’t interject as he pushed your legs to your chest. An exotic position that exposes the damp spot of your thong from your lifted skirt. 

The president tsks at the display with a sneer. “Fucking slut, so wet from just sucking me off.” He slides the underwear and is welcomes to your scent and taste when he glides his tongue to your clit. “You really are a fucking bitch in heat, huh?”

His tongue pets and laps around your labia, lubing your vagina with his spit while slurping your essence that messes around your inner thighs. You’re choked up, whining from his tongue fucking the entrance of you and licking your clit.

“—Ohoo! Hoohh, Sukunaa, pleaseee,” you slurred from the suck of your clit, his tongue pushing it and grazing his teeth with the delicate bud. “Hahhhfuckk, put it innn, ‘Kuna, I want—Daaahaa!!” You cried at the slap of your cunt, stinging your sensitive clit from the rough palm of his hand.

“Don’t tell me what to do, brat,” another smack to your slit as you cough up spit. “Such a broad, only thinking with just your pussy.” Although, he had to admit, seeing your pussy wink from his hits and teases made his pride sing. With a low chuckle, he straightens up, your anticipation climbing up when he brings his middle and forefinger to wet with saliva.

Yet a record scratches at the feel of something wet around your asshole, the digits pushing and teasing your puckered entrance. Begs fly out you’re mouth, but they substitute with a scream when his fingers manage to insert inside and massage around your walls.

“What, you thought I was just gonna play with that pussy like you wanted?” He laughs at your cries, stroking his ego from your anus, clamping onto him with the scrape of his fingernails. “You got some nerve; only dirty pigs like you get dirty rewards.” You gasp at the withdrawal of his fingers, and he whistles at the sight. “So here ya go, little slut…”

Sukuna aligns his cock to your rear, pushing it with no care for your lack of preparation. You scream at the insert of his cockhead and piercing, and the stretch that comes along his inches burrowing inside causes more tears to fall. But not in pain—the expression on your face showed no sign of resentment. 

“Haaahh, yeeesshh,” your hands come to the back of your ass to help the position you’re in, the angle making your writhing figure jolt. And it gets better once Sukuna’s hips go at a mediocre pace. “Shooo goood…!!”

Your hands find Sukuna’s ankles when his frenulum piercing jabs you with precision with the increase of his erratic thrusts. High pitches and shrieks fill the student body lounge, skin slapping against each other, creating an inappropriate sound. Like Sukuna cares, though; fucking your ass on the floor with no grace — so much for a president.

“—Khheh, hooohshiiit, pig can’t even speak properly, making such a ruckus.” It’s true; you showed no restraint in concealing your wails. If anything, they get louder and louder with the clasp of your butthole on his length, drool spilling from your agape mouth. “Noisy ass acting all dumb on my cock.” 

The graze of his piercing gets worse every second; shit feels way too good, like his balls smacking down your ass. But you couldn’t foresee his next move; Sukuna slipped his middle finger inside your chasm and wiggled around your vagina. A strong yelp erupts from your body from the “come hither” motion that scratches your upper walls, and you can’t help but let yourself go.

Your climax has you howling, your holes contracting with force from every passing wave that rocks your core. You pant heavily, milking the dick that continues to plunge into your ass, Sukuna groaning at the grasp of your anus and the walls around his middle finger. 

He then pulls his digit out and brings it to his mouth, sucking your liquids with a smirk. “Not bad, broad.”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[fangswbenefits]

Lockpicking

Summary: You ask Astarion to teach you how to lockpick and things get... out of hand.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Fingering. Dry humping. Innuendo. Praise kink. Finger licking.

Word count: 1.7k

You should have known better than to have asked him this.

Initially, he had regarded your request with an entertained scoff and no less amount of smugness.

But Astarion did find enjoyment in showing off his skills whenever the situation called for it.

And that was what landed you on your knees, inside some dingy cave near Baldur's Gate.

“You do need to focus, darling.”

You repositioned yourself and straightened your back to properly eye-level with the rusty chest in front of you, thieves’ tools in hand, prodding the stubborn lock.

Astarion was down on one knee, right behind you, body pressed faintly against yours.

An unwanted distraction, no doubt.

His cool hands gripped yours as expert fingers twisted and turned the sharp tools inside the opening.

He always made it look so easy, unlocking doors and chests in the blink of an eye.

“Maybe the lock is faulty,” you huffed in annoyance, allowing him to guide your fingers. “Should we try another one?”

“You're too impatient,” he said disapprovingly, his voice but a whisper next to your ear. “The lock isn't faulty, but it requires some tender love and caring to pry it open.”

Your brows furrowed as you took a deep breath, taking the reins and twisting both tools to the right.

His fingers gripped yours in an instant, and he took control once again, but all to no avail.

You let out a low growl of frustration.

“Darling, lockpicking is like making sweet love,” he chuckled briefly, fingertips grazing the back of your hand. “You need to exercise patience and focus.” You could feel his lips ghosting the shell of your ear. “Just as a lover, you must listen to them and tend to their needs.”

You nearly rolled your eyes. “You did not just make that comparison.”

“You'll find it to be true. Every lock is different and requires not only the right tools but the right amount of dedication.”

An innuendo?

“That is nothing like love-making.”

A metallic click.

“Did I not just describe how I make love to you, then?”

Inadvertently, your heart jolted into a quicker thrum, and heat rushed to your cheeks as his words caught you off guard.

“Must you be so vulgar?”

He rotated the metallic rods in your hands effortlessly, his body pressing further into yours.

“It's simply the truth, darling,” he said with a click of his tongue. “It's not my fault that dexterity comes in handy in various situations.”

This entire ordeal felt strangely intimate all of a sudden, as if you were both dancing to a tune only Astarion was privy to.

The mechanism clicked once more.

“You're doing good.”

Being sincerely praised by him provided the kind of pleasure that you wouldn't easily find anywhere else.

He rubbed the back of your hand tenderly, effectively letting you know you were on the right path.

“Grip it tighter with the tips of your fingers,” he urged before pressing a fleeting kiss just behind your ear. “You must keep a firm grip.”

Shivers spread across your body at the feel of his cold lips caressing your sensitive skin.

You swallowed hard, finding it extremely difficult to concentrate on the task at hand with your lover actively working against you.

Your hands jittered, and you nearly dropped one rod.

“You're awfully distracted.”

The familiar pool of heat in your lower abdomen flared at his taunting words, but you cleared your throat and shoved one of his hands away, wanting to keep your focus and sanity intact.

“I've got this.”

He scoffed. “Have it your way, then.”

You expected a snarky remark and triumphantly smiled to yourself as you were met with his silence instead.

Narrowing your eyes, you kept prodding the opening with renewed focus, following his previous instructions.

You heard a few more clicks, but not the one you were in search of.

And then you felt his free hand grazing the waistband of your trousers, fiddling with the buckle of your belt.

And just like that, your concentration was broken yet again.

“What are you doing?”

Silence.

Experienced fingers pulled on the strap until it was set loose.

Your eyes widened, and the tools in your hands quivered as you came to a halt. “...Astarion?”

He undid the button next and gently tugged on the fabric. “As you said, you've got this,” he whispered dangerously low in your ear. “And I've got you,” he finished before slipping his hand inside.

Your mouth dropped open as his finger trailed past your undergarments and settled between your folds.

Immediately, your hips jerked, and you let out a strained gasp as the throb intensified.

“Focus,” he cooed, rubbing gentle circles. “You're nearly there.”

His other hand steadied your grip around the tool.

“Try rotating it to the left.”

Your hands were getting sweaty and far too jittery, and you nearly dropped the one on your left when he began drawing circles anti-clockwise to match his words.

Words failed you, and you could only gasp, allowing him to take control, using the tool to turn the mechanism.

“Hear that sound?”

You heard a faint metallic pang coming from the opening.

“Focus on the sound coming from the lock,” he said in between kisses on your neck. “Make it sing, and it will open up for you.”

He increased the pace, and you moaned loudlier than intended, eyes fluttering shut as you rolled your hips against him, yearning for more and more friction.

“Hear how beautiful it sounds?”

“Yes…”

At this point, you weren't sure if he was indeed referring to the locking mechanism or to how you kept whimpering under his touch.

He then bucked his hips into you, and you felt the unmistakable print of his strained erection pressed against your lower back.

The motion nearly had you tumbling forward had it not been for his free hand that steadied you.

“Easy now, darling,” he teased, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Maybe you should part your legs. For balance, of course,” he added, but you doubted that was the real motive.

Even so, you quickly shifted your knees apart just enough to grant him further access.

“Good girl.”

You had to bite down hard on your lip to suppress a moan.

One finger circled your entrance, and you felt a gush of wetness spilling from you with each stroke.

Your hands quivered from the stimulation, rattling the metal rods inside the lock.

He brought his hand back to yours, his thumb caressing your unsteady fingers. “You're nearly there… just a little more prodding…”

“Astarion…” you groaned in frustration.

He immediately hushed you. “Careful… we don't want to draw unwanted attention, do we?”

Just as he finished delivering his taunt, he dragged his finger to spread your wetness across the throbbing swell in between your folds.

The overwhelming sensation was too much to bear, and your hand dropped to your thigh, gripping the rod tightly as if holding on for dear life.

He paused his ministrations in an instant.

“You'll need to slide that one inside to unlock it, darling.”

You couldn't care less about the damned chest, as the need for release took over you.

But Astarion seemed to have other plans.

“Slide it in,” he said, gripping your wrists. “Go on… I'll help.”

You slumped lightly against him, enjoying how his cock kept on hardening against you, and how he was beginning to lose his composure, low grunts erupting from the back of his throat.

He lifted your hand, and just as he slid the tool back inside, you felt a finger slip inside your entrance until he was knuckle-deep.

“See how easily it slides in?”

You rolled your hips, wanting to fuck yourself on his finger, riding it desperately.

The increasing pressure in your lower abdomen began to blur your vision as your mouth fell agape, your senses taken over by him.

You were close.

Too close.

Deliciously close.

And he knew it.

Of course he did.

Astarion was a dedicated and devoted lover who didn't shy away from having you come undone for him.

“Nearly there…” he said, rolling his own hips into you.

You kept on riding his finger, the heel of his palm pressing down between your folds, further pushing you over the ends on your sanity.

His free hand still covered yours, his slender fingers fully guiding you, and you couldn't even understand how he was able to keep his focus on the damned lock as you rode him.

Your head fell back against his shoulder, and he seized the moment to tease your exposed skin with his fangs.

Somewhere in the distance, you heard a familiar clicking sound.

“Let go, darling… I've got you.”

His sweet guidance was all you needed from him to finally tip over the edge, plunging headfirst into the blinding wave of pleasure that began tearing through your body like lightning.

He added a second finger just in time, prompting the neediest sobs to erupt from deep within you, and he quickly covered your mouth with his other hand, muffling your cries of pleasure.

“There you go.” He cooed sweetly.

You immediately dropped the tools to the floor with a loud pang and gripped his wrist in the hopes that would be enough to anchor you.

For a split second, you considered biting his hand to suppress the uncontrollable moans but decided against it, enjoying how your voice reverberated across his palm.

And as you began spasming against him, you heard the most delicious hiss spill from him, his strained cock rutting further into your lower back.

You clenched hard and rhythmically around his fingers, riding out your wave of pleasure.

His hand eventually dropped from your face, and he planted the softest kiss to the flushed skin of your cheek.

“Well done, darling.”

You gradually went limp against him, struggling to control your breaths and hearing your heart still pounding hard in your ears.

“Gods… that was…”

The words died in your throat as he slid out of you, earning a whimper from you.

As you regained some of your strength and battled your sore muscles, you turned your head to face him.

“How are you so good with your fingers?"

He chuckled as he tasted your wetness that dripped from his fingers.

“In which way?”

Your gaze was fixed on how his tongue expertly wiped you clean from him.

“Don't play coy. I wish I could be this skilled…"

His crimson eyes narrowed deviously. “I'm sure you'll get there, eventually – well, probably not, though.”

You gave him an offended glare.

He nudged his head to the chest in front of you, and you watched in perplexity as the lid had slightly shifted.

“Not that hard, was it?”

Masterlist

[nastybuckybarnes]

Date Night

Pairing: dbf!Bucky X Reader

Summary: Bucky makes a big mistake.

Warnings: Angst, Language, yea sorry

Word Count: 1.7K

A/n: teehee whoops. im gonna have a ghost one coming out soon for you guys, and then maybe some more teddy bear picnic but we'll see

~*~

"Hey kid, wanna grab a beer and watch the game with your old man? Or are you too cool for that?"

You grin at your dad and slow your steps, glancing at the hockey game on TV.

"Where's Bucky? I thought he was your game night date? He finally realize hockey sucks?"

Your dad gives you an offended look then rolls his eyes playfully.

"Nah, he had to cancel last minute - he's got a hot date tonight."

He wiggles his eyebrows at you, unaware of the fact that those six words have flipped your night upside down and caused knots to form in your stomach.

You don't remember having plans with him tonight.

As casually as you can manage, you head into the kitchen, pulling out your phone and tapping a quick text over to the man in question.

'Not coming over tonight?'

It's read within the same minute, and then the telltale three dots pop up before his message spawns.

'Sorry baby, not feeling too hot.'

The knots in your gut are quickly crushed by the boulder that settles there, and you need to take a few careful breaths to stop yourself from crying in the middle of the kitchen.

~*~

"Everything okay, James?"

He huffs out a sigh and glances up from his phone, smiling weakly at the woman across from him.

"Listen, Dot... I can't tell you how grateful I am that you managed to make such a beautiful cake in such a short amount of time. And, while I'm flattered that you'd want to go out for dinner, I had you make that cake for a woman who means... quite a bit to me. I don't want to make things awkward but I do want you to know that I'm out with you tonight as a friend and nothing more."

The woman across from him blinks blankly a few times, then takes a sip of her martini, stands up, and leaves the table.

Bucky watches helplessly as she leaves the restaurant without another word, dropping his head back for a moment as he feels onlookers stare.

It takes a few minutes for the waitress to come back, but by the time she does, he's got a wad of cash ready for her and his keys in hand.

He all but runs out of the restaurant, a new lightness in his shoulders like a weight has been lifted from his chest.

Immediately, he grabs his phone and shoots a quick text off to your dad.

'Room for one more?'

It takes a few minutes for your dad to respond, which Bucky uses to put on his helmet and straddle his bike.

'Date not going well?'

Bucky chuckles softly.

'Something like that. I'll be there in five.'

He swipes out of the conversation with your dad and then clicks on the only pinned conversation on his phone.

'I'm feeling a bit better now, gonna pop by for a bit.'

With that, he locks his phone and brings his bike to life, eager to be in your presence again.

Your phone vibrates, pulling you from your pity party, and you frown at the text on it.

You turn your phone off and drop it face-down on the carpet, ignoring this text the way you've ignored the last three from him.

You can hear him downstairs chatting with your dad as if he's done nothing wrong. As if he wasn't out with another woman less than an hour ago.

Grinding your teeth together, you decide that enough is enough, and it's time for bed.

At the very moment you open your door to head to the bathroom to get ready for bed, Bucky decides to raise his fist to knock.

Your eyes meet his and, for a moment, you forget that you're mad. You forget everything.

And then he opens his stupid mouth.

"Hey, what's with you tonight?" He asks gently, reaching forward to grab your hand.

You yank away from him and take a step back, levelling him with a steely glare.

"How was your date?"

You watch as he deflates, as his face falls and his shoulders slump forward the tiniest bit.

"Sweetheart, it's not what you think, I swear."

"Oh Jesus Christ," you murmur, pushing past him and heading downstairs to watch the game with your dad. At least down here he can't talk to you.

He can't try to justify him willingly going on a date with another woman.

Well, not until the game's over, at least. And it seems like it's only a few minutes before your dad is yawning, turning the TV off and heading upstairs to go to bed himself.

This leaves you alone in the living room with Bucky, tension building with every silent second that passes between the two of you.

"Honey, I had to," he finally whispers, breaking the silence.

You whip your head around, mouth dropping open in disbelief.

"Excuse me?"

He holds his hands up, a desperate and pathetic attempt at pleading with you, begging you to hear him out.

"It was the only way for me to get your birthday cake. Dot is an old friend from high school and... she wanted a date as payment for the last-minute cake," he explains quietly.

You purse your lips, nodding as if it all makes sense now.

"Oh, I see! So, not only do you admit to forgetting my birthday, but you also agreed to go on a date with a woman who has had a thing for you since high school! Buck, that is so not okay on so many different levels!" You exclaim in a whisper.

The last thing you need is your dad overhearing any part of this conversation.

"I know. That's why I left. I told her I couldn't, that the cake was for someone important to me and that I was only having dinner with her as a friend."

You shake your head at him and rise to your feet, unable to stay still while he spews nothing but nonsense at you and expects you to forgive him.

"You shouldn't have even gotten me that cake if that's what she wanted as payment! You should've told her to stick it and then you literally could've gotten me a Starbucks cake pop. I don't need fancy cakes or expensive things, James, I thought you knew that." Your voice gradually loses its anger, disappointment and exhaustion taking its place.

"I know but... I wanted to do something special for you." He looks like a kicked puppy, and it takes a serious amount of self-control to hold on to your anger.

"My birthday was special. Even without the cake it still would've been special. Especially if I'd've known it would mean that you would be going on a date with another woman in order to get it."

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry," he pleads, reaching for you again only for you to shake your head and step away.

"No, Bucky. Sorry doesn't fix this. Can you imagine if the roles were reversed? What if I had to go on a date with a guy who's been wanting me for over a decade just for the perfect steak? And then, what if I lied to you about it and you found out from my dad that I was out on a 'hot date'? A date with someone that the general public would deem more appropriate for me to be with? Someone who would fit me better. How would that make you feel?"

He stands there silently for a moment, fists clenched tightly as he imagines everything you just said.

He imagines you laughing on a date with another man, a young man, a man far more appropriate for you to be with. He imagines sitting waiting for you, only to find out that you're out getting hit on by some young punk who wouldn't know how to please a woman like you. His imagination runs wild, to the point where he can almost feel steam billowing from his ears, but all he says is

"Shitty."

"Shitty?" You laugh, "Try worthless. Embarrassed. Humiliated. At least that's how I felt. And-and maybe I'm just reading too deep into this. Maybe this 'exclusivity' that I thought we had is one-sided."

"It's not," he interrupts quickly, taking a step forward only to pause when you step back again.

"Maybe I just thought things were more serious than they were," you continue, eyes stuck on the ground as your thoughts spill out before your mind has a moment to realize what you're saying.

"They are serious-"

"Maybe we should just stop... whatever this is that we're doing."

Silence hangs heavily in the air when you finish speaking, and you feel tears sting at your eyes when he says nothing.

You count thirteen heartbeats before he finally says something.

"Is that what you really want?" He asks softly, his voice discouraged.

Slowly, you raise your eyes to his.

"What even are we?" You ask breathlessly, a single tear sliding down your cheek. "What are we doing?"

"You're my girl."

You sniffle and shake your head.

"No, I'm your dirty little secret, that's what I am. And I'm tired of it. I wanna be something you're proud of, not something you have to hide," you whisper, your chest aching with the weight of your confession.

Bucky's heart breaks at your words, and he wants nothing more than to scoop you up in his arms and kiss away any insecurities you have in your relationship. If you can even call it that.

"I am proud of you, sweetheart, beyond proud. I can't even put into words how I feel about you," he whispers, desperate for you to understand just how much you mean to him.

"Why haven't you told my dad about us yet?"

The silence that follows your question is answer enough for you, and you nod.

"I... I think you should leave," you finally whisper, hugging yourself and keeping your gaze locked on the ground.

He stays rooted in place for a long moment, testing your resolve, waiting for you to break. When you don't, he takes slow steps toward the door, waiting, praying for you to change your mind.

But you stand firm.

Never able to deny you, he leaves you standing alone in your kitchen, your dad peacefully asleep upstairs while your entire life gets turned upside down.

[em1989ts]

𝒂𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆

five hargreeves x reader

word count: 1.7k

part one. part two. part three.

summary: after discovering your husband cheated on you with his brother's wife, you run off to a different timeline using the subway, only to find a deli crowded with a familiar face.

author's note: this is my first fic that i'm actually posting lol, if anyone sees this i'll be totally shocked

“Just leave me alone, Five.”

You were speed walking down the steps into what looked like an abandoned subway, desperately trying to avoid the man you thought you knew, who was currently right on your tail.

“Not until you talk to me, y/n,” he pleaded, swiftly trying to catch up. 

“There’s nothing to discuss, Five,” you said in a cold manner. 

You just couldn’t speak to him. Not after what just happened in the living room with him and Diego. After what was just brought to light. 

You wanted to laugh, you really did, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do so. 

Why would you hear him out? Why would he believe he had a right to explain himself? How could he? A marriage of over half a century, down the drain. And for what? 

Seven years with her.

Lila. 

His brother’s wife. The mother of his brother’s children. The child of the couple he assassinated. 

It made no sense. 

You angrily sped up and quickly got onto the train that was stopped at the station. It’s white light making you more stressed than you already were. 

The doors shut in his face. Just a couple more seconds and he would’ve been on this train. You would’ve been stuck having to hear him try and save face until the next stop. 

Sometimes the universe lets you win. 

But why not this time. 

You stared at him through the window of the subway car doors. He looked at you pleadingly. You looked at him disappointedly. 

Who was he, because he sure as hell wasn’t the Five you had known since you were thirteen years old. Stuck in the apocalypse with nothing but ashes and him.

 You had thought it was fate. You and him were meant to be stuck together, meant to be there for each other. Even after everything that’s happened. Apocalypse after apocalypse after apocalypse. 

The subway started to move. You stayed standing, staring at him with daggers in your eyes until he was out of sight. He didn’t chase after the car, he knew it was pointless. He knew he’d never get you back. He didn’t deserve you. 

Once the outside of the train was completely dark and all you could see was your own reflection in the window, you turned and took a seat. Hands in your lap, looked straight ahead, drained. 

What were you supposed to do now? Where would you go? 

Maybe this train would take you to a universe with a Five that could never dream of betraying you the way your own did. 

The lights shone over you as you were deep in thought. You had no idea where this train would take you, when it would take you. 

Suddenly, the car slowed to a gradual stop and the doors opened. You wanted to stay on, maybe pass by hundreds of stops until you actually got off the train but you heard footsteps passing by the station. 

Something in the back of your mind told you to get off at this stop, that you would find something important. 

You stood and slipped through the doors. As soon as you turned your head to scan your surroundings, that’s when you saw him. 

How could he have gotten here before you? 

Five was casually walking towards a set of stairs when he saw you and stopped in his tracks. 

You glared and felt a flame arise in you as you stomped over to him. 

“I told you to leave me alone, Five. What the hell are you doing here?” you pointed an angry, accusatory finger in his face but he just grabbed your hand and gently held it in his. 

You were confused, he seemed different. Less guilty. More sentimental. 

Your anger faltered as he stared into your eyes with an admiration you were already starting to miss. 

“y/n,” he said sincerely, “it’s been so long.” 

Of course he wasn’t your Five. You had just jumped onto a multi-dimensional subway for Christ’s sake. 

“Come on, follow me,” he said as guided you towards a stairwell. 

As you descended and turned a corner, warm glowing lights filled your sight. A warming, comforting sense of nostalgia flooded your senses. You looked up and read the lights on the sign, Max’s Delicatessen, as the Five you stumbled across led you inside. The sound of a familiar vintage tune filled your ears. 

Immediately, you felt all eyes travel to your frame. Every single pupil in this room belonged to a Five. The man you never wanted to see again. Each one of them looked at you with a shocked and astounded expression.

 The Five still holding your hand paid no attention and directed you into a booth seat. 

As you sat down, you took in your surroundings. The Fives behind the counter preparing food, the Fives taking orders, the Five delivering food, the Fives whispering at tables. 

There were so many of them, what was this place?

The Five sitting across from you looks in your eyes with a knowing look.

“It’s not often we get one of you around here.” 

You shake out of your confused thoughts and reply, “And what exactly is this place?” 

Before you can get a reply, a waiter Five comes up to the table and places two mugs of coffee in front of you and Five. Before he leaves, he places a couple cups of creamer and packets of sugar next to your mug. 

Without answering your question, the Five in front of you smiles and says, “We keep those in the kitchen and not on the tables since it’s really rare to see you.” 

You give him an annoyed look. 

“Can you explain to me what’s going on?” 

“Right,” he sat up a little straighter and took a sip of his coffee. “You hopped on a subway that took you to an alternate timeline. That timeline just so happens to hold a place where us Fives come after we’ve stopped trying to fix the problem.” He largely gestured to the room full of alternate versions of your husband. Ex husband. 

You stared at him for a few seconds, your brain rattled with questions, before you spoke. 

“Stopped trying? You mean trying to save the world?” 

“Stopped trying to fix the broken timeline,” he replied matter-of-factly. 

“The broken timeline?” you repeated in confusion. 

“There’s only supposed to be one, and I’ll bet you can guess who shattered the original timeline.” 

Before you could reply, you heard a bell as another Five yelled out, “We did.” 

Five made a disapproving yet knowing face as he called back, “Why you always gotta wreck shit, Brisket Five?” 

Brisket Five shrugged at him then winked at you before returning back to his work. 

“Okay . .” you started, trying to come up with the right questions, “So, our existence is the cause of the broken timeline. Is that why there’s constantly an apocalypse?” 

“Precisely,” Five responds, before gesturing to the framed pictures on the wall. “By the way, check out the artwork. All the different ways we made our universe go kaboom.” 

You stare at the photographs on the wall, noticing both familiar doomsday and entirely unique ones. Once your eyes reach a certain point along the wall you notice some framed images of you. Different photos of you and Five, living your lives together throughout the timelines. 

The Five across from you notices your curious glimpse. 

“I mentioned we don’t often see you around here,” he explains. “It’s because it’s rare that you survive your timeline.” 

You quickly turned back to him in response to his statement. You don’t survive? How many of the Fives in this room have lost their y/n? Has the Five in front of you lost his? 

“What do you mean?” 

“You and I will always meet, in every timeline throughout the universe. It just seems that fate doesn’t always take our side,” he says solemnly as he looks down at his mug. 

A Five piped up from the booth behind you, “My y/n was killed by the Swedes back in Dallas.” 

Another from a couple tables away said, “Mine died in the apocalypse, but we had a good thirty years together.” 

The Five in front of you looked up at you and said, “In my timeline, the Handler shot you and you died in my arms. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.” 

He gave you such a genuine look. Like he’s felt shame and guilt for so long, his apology was heartbreaking. How could these Fives care so much about you, while your Five forgot all about you. 

“It’s okay,” you looked at him truthfully and took his hand in your, “I’m sure none of your y/ns would ever blame you for their fate, but they would for giving up. They’d want you to keep going, stay strong and do what it takes to save your family and the world. That’s what they loved most about you.” 

You felt bad placing blame on him but you didn’t understand how the man who has spent his whole life prioritizing the safety of his family and overcoming countless obstacles and stopping at nothing to save his family could just give up. Sure it was tiring, but that was the life the two of you lived, together. 

He smiled at you so lovingly it crumbled your heart. 

“Y/n, the doomsdays will never stop coming. The only way to end this constant cycle of saving and destroying the world is if our family ceases to exist.” 

Your heart slowed its beating as you stared at your interlocked hands, contemplating. 

You hated to admit it but he made sense. Whenever your family is all together, everything goes to shit. People always die and the world will always end. 

Before you could respond, you heard the door swing open and a tense tone fell over the deli. 

The Five across from you held your hands a bit tighter as he glanced up at the Five that had rushed in.

Your Five. 

☕︎

part two. part three.

[spencerreidenjoyer]

MORE VIRGIN SPENCERRRRR

from the start | spencer reid x reader

Spencer's a nervous mess in your bed, but you like it.

wc: 1.7k, rating: explicit/18+

tags/warnings: puppy bf!spencer, virgin!spencer, early seasons!spencer, hookup, friends with benefits(?), dominant fem!reader, gratuitous use of petnames (baby, darling, etc. but it wouldn't be a minnie special without petnames), praise kink, cunnilingus, unprotected sex

a/n: a weird dream of mine turned into a spencer self-insert (jk) so I wrote 1.7k words just to fuel my delusion. this is also a little birthday gift from me to all of you! i've hit 1000 followers (!!!!) on this little spencer blog of mine and i am so so grateful so the only thing i can do is write spencer smut to celebrate! also this lovely anon asked for virgin spencer and I literally cannot refuse (also crossposted to ao3)

You aren’t complaining, ending up in bed with Spencer Reid again. 

You’d met at a bar, the usually shy genius (according to his friends) coming out of his shell to talk to you, and it had ended in a couple of drinks and you making out with him against the wall in the back of the bar. 

You’d brought him home, fully expecting to fuck him. You’d gotten him into your bed when he’d confessed he’d never done anything like this before, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him you could tell. Instead, you’d given him a blowjob before he fell asleep in your bed after a long week on a case. The next morning he’d bashfully woken up to breakfast, and a promise that you’d like to see him again.

“It’ll be less intimidating like this,” you pet his cheek softly, before you turn over onto your hands and knees. You notice that Spencer doesn’t move, so you turn your head to look at him. 

Spencer frowns. “I thought– I wanted to see your face.”

“You’re sweet, darling,” you chuckle. “Come on. I promise this will be easier on you for your first time. You know what to do?” 

Spencer hums, his eyes shyly looking to your rear now. You’re on display for him, thick thighs framing the wetness of your pussy. You know he can’t take his eyes off you, his inexperience obvious and extremely arousing.

Spencer had been a bumbling mess as you’d kissed him, as you’d undressed each other, his hands trembling through it. “You know you can touch me, right?” You tease, and Spencer whines rather petulantly. “Take all the time you need, baby.”

Spencer’s large hands are on you, gentle on your skin. His hands pet you rather sweetly, over your hips and thighs, before he feels the softness of your ass under his palms. You hear his shallow breathing, and feel his thumbs spread you open. His breath hitches. 

You don’t say anything, patient as you let him explore your body. He touches you with an avid curiosity, like he wants to find out about everything that makes you tick, like he wants to commit the lines and curves of your body to memory. 

His movements slow like syrup, his touch moves to your cunt, sticky with your slick. His fingers slide over your pussy; along your folds, over your leaking hole. “I’m going to…” Spencer trails off, as he presses his index finger gently to your entrance. 

You moan as your head drops between your shoulders, with Spencer sliding a curious finger inside of you. He feels around, and it feels more like a medical exam than foreplay, but Spencer’s lack of experience still turns you on extremely. Spencer’s voice is strained. “You feel so warm. You’re so tight.”

“Yeah, baby, I’m not sure if you’re goin​​g to be able to fit,” you tease playfully, smiling as you look back at him. “You’re going to have to make it fit, won’t you?”

Spencer’s eyes are wide, and he swallows nervously. “Yes– Yes, ma’am.”

���Ugh, you’re so cute– Oh!” You gasp as Spencer’s finger presses into you insistently, nudging against your spongy walls, against the spot that makes you lose your mind. “Mm, right there, fuck–”

Being eager to please, Spencer does exactly that – he keeps fingering you, slow and steady, and waits for your approval. You’re basically melting as he fucks you on his fingers, and you only remember you have a bigger plan until he whimpers. “Hmm, baby?”

“I want to- I wanna taste you,” Spencer says, and you moan as his thumb nudges at your clit.

“You- You sure you can last long enough for foreplay?” You jab, but you shudder in a moan as Spencer rubs at your swollen clit with more intention, pleased with the way he takes you apart.  

Spencer scoffs. “I think I should ask you the same.”

“Eat me out, Spencer,” you demand. Spencer just gets his head between your thighs. 

You feel his mouth on your cunt, kissing you sweetly, moaning as he tastes you. His lips are soft and plush on your skin, his lower lip massaging at your clit as he eats you out. His tongue slides over your folds, wet noises coming from his mouth as he takes his time tasting you. 

“You’re stupidly good at this,” you moan, your face buried in his pillows as you’re barely able to keep yourself propped up. The pleasure Spencer gives you courses through your veins, electric from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. You think you hear Spencer mumble a thank you, and the vibrations only make you moan even louder. 

You want to come right now, but you know it’ll be so much sweeter to orgasm when Spencer’s buried inside of you. You don’t know if he’ll be able to handle it, the hypersensitive, easily overwhelmed genius in your bed simply might lose his mind fucking you.

“Spencer, baby,” you coo. “Wanna- Need you to fuck me now, darling.”

A high whine leaves Spencer’s throat, and he’s quick to pull away from you, as fast as he’d put his mouth on you earlier. “Please! Please, I need to–”

You giggle, beckoning him to come closer to you. He leans over your frame until his face is close to yours, and you kiss him sweetly. You taste yourself on his lips, but Spencer is giddy as he kisses you back. He tries to trail after you as you pull away, and the sight is both adorable and extremely arousing. 

“You gonna fuck me good, baby?” You smile, feeling the hardness of his length pressed against your ass. 

“Yes– Yes, ma’am,” Spencer stammers, swallowing his anxieties. “Can- Can I?” 

“Please, baby,” you groan, your hand reaching behind you to grab Spencer’s cock. He whimpers as you tug as it roughly, your movements haphazard due to the angle, but you’re lining him up with your hole. “You know what to do.”

It doesn’t take much effort for Spencer to press his cock into you. There’s uncertainty in his movements, but it feels like heaven as your cunt practically swallows him in. He fills you up so perfectly, his thickness rubbing against your walls in just the right way until he’s buried to the hilt, his bony hips pressed against the fat of your ass. “Oh! That feels good, baby.”

You clench around him, relishing the feeling, and then you hear a pathetic little whine from Spencer. “Hurts,” he says, in a weak, wet voice, and you want to both coo at him and fuck his brains out. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” you soothe. “I’ll make it feel better, yeah?” 

“Please,” Spencer whimpers. “Need you.”

You lift yourself off of Spencer for a moment, pulling yourself off his cock before sinking back down on him. Spencer is big, not even knowing what he’s been gifted with when you had seen him for the first time. He fits so well inside of you, feeling so perfect as you fuck yourself on him. 

You would ask how he’s doing, but whimpers and moans liberally fall from his lips, and he’s holding onto your hips with a death grip, like he’ll lose all sense of himself if he isn’t holding onto you. His nails dig into your flesh, a delicious bite of pain through the pleasure of it all. 

“Pretty boy,” you groan. “You fill me up so good, holy fuck, oh my God–”

Spencer moans so loud your ears ring. “Feels good, so good, please–” 

“Fuck me, baby,” you gasp, your hips slowing on him. He chases after you like he can’t control himself, as he starts to thrust into you. “Yeah, just like that, baby. Fuck.”

Spencer whines again, chasing his own pleasure as he fucks into you. His hips slap against your ass hurriedly, eagerly, like you’ll disappear if he doesn’t. “Fuck, oh, God–”

“You’re so deep inside of me, baby,” you groan, barely able to keep your voice steady. You reach for his hand, guiding it to splay out against your lower stomach, where his cock bulges with every thrust. He practically sobs. “You feel so good, darling.”

“Think– I’m gonna– Hhrghh– I’m not gonna last long,” Spencer finally gets the thought out, his genius clearly and understandably slashed when he’s buried in warm, wet pussy. You feel kind of proud of that. 

“Cum, baby,” you groan, not unaffected by Spencer’s eager, frantic fucking. “Inside of me.”

He lets out a pathetic little sob, one that turns you to no end, and then you feel Spencer coming inside, his load hot and messy as it paints your walls, filling you up. You clench around him at the feeling, so heady and overwhelming, and Spencer’s little whine at the pressure has you orgasming too. It’s a new kind of high, a perfect storm of pleasure filling every bone in your body. 

Spencer is warm and heavy as he half-falls on top of you, a sweetness to his movements as he rests his chin on your shoulder. His cock twitches inside of you but begins to soften. Your arms and legs feel like jelly, but you manage to coax him to lay down. His arms sling around your waist to hold you, and the position is surprisingly intimate. 

“Thank you,” he says breathlessly. You turn around in his grasp, letting Spencer’s cock slip out of you. He whines a little, but smiles when you look up at him. Spencer repeats, sounding more earnest. “Thank you.” 

“Of course, baby,” you say, smiling, and lean forward to kiss him. It’s sweet, no heat behind it as you press your lips to his. Spencer seems to appreciate the affection, his thumb tracing little circles into your hip. “You were really good. Was that good for you too?”

“Couldn’t you tell from how fast and how hard I came?” Spencer laughs, seeming a bit shy. 

You coo, your hand cupping his cheek. “Even if you did, it was extremely endearing.”

“I think you just like corrupting me or something,” Spencer smiles, quirking his eyebrow.

You shrug, a teasing grin on your lips. “Maybe I do.”

[bbydoll18xx]

I Can Do It With a Broken Heart

Paige Bueckers x reader

KK tries to set you up on live, and things between you and Paige go south.

Word Count: 1.7k

Themes: angst, maybe some fluff?

This is heavily inspired by my love life, so yes, please feel free to feel bad for me thanks xoxo

~

“And oh, my god, he was so fucking stupid,” you exclaim exasperatedly, your longwinded rant having no ending in sight. “Like you’re literally in college and you can’t even hold a basic conversation? And don’t even get me started on his fucking mustache,” you add, gagging dramatically for good measure.

Hands were flying in the air as you spoke, and the girls of UCONN’s women’s basketball team listened amusedly as you complained about your latest failure of a date. You had promised yourself you’d get back out into the dating world after your two year relationship with your high school sweetheart had ended, but that was nearly three years ago. And now that you had gone through every stage of grief and were now (mostly) mentally stable again, you had begun dating to find ‘the one.’ 

However ‘the one’ seemed to be hiding among the frat boys and useless idiots you had been spending your friday and saturday nights with for the last six months. And you were quickly growing tired of their bullshit. 

“And then,” you dragged out the word theatrically, leaning forward to the group of girls listening, “he told me he wanted to do a line of cocaine off my ass! Like who even says that?”

The girls erupt in a fit of giggles and gasps, disturbed by your most recent date. 

You shake your head in mild embarrassment and place your head in your hands. “I can’t do this anymore,” you sigh, trying to avoid Paige’s stare. 

She was always staring, as if she could tell what you were thinking. And to be honest, it freaked you out because if she actually knew what you were thinking, you’d be in some deep shit.

You had feelings for Paige from the first day you had met her, and the battle was certainly an uphill one at that. A little voice in your head whispered mockingly that the reason you had been going on all these dates was to distract yourself from the harsh reality that Paige was just a friend. Nothing more, nothing less. 

And it really fucking stung. 

KK cuts through the silence, placing a soothing hand on your back. “I know what to do,” she says with a knowing smile. You meet her smirk with a confused look, wondering what the younger girl had in mind. “Let’s go on live and find you a boo!” she exclaims, clapping her hands together.

The other girls erupt in laughter at the idea, nodding their heads in agreement. The only one who is uncharacteristically quiet is Paige, who has a funny look on her face. Her nose scrunches slightly, and because you had spent years memorizing every part of Paige, including her moods and facial expressions, you would almost say she looked pissed.

Glancing back over to KK, you let out another long sigh, throwing your hands in the air defeatedly. “Sure, why the hell not?” 

She whoops excitedly, grabbing her phone and propping it up on the table in front of where the two of you were sitting. She clicks on the live, and it was not long before hundreds of people were flooding in with comments. 

“Hey, y’all!” KK greets the fans with a small wave and a huge grin. You try to hold back a grin of your own, but her excitement was infectious, and you felt grateful that your friends cared about fixing your sham of a love life. 

“We’ve got a special guest tonight,” KK explains, and you wave shyly at the camera. You typically did not love all the attention, and you tended to stay in the background when the other girls would go live. 

“Okay, so boom, we are looking for a date for my girl over here,” KK begins, explaining the situation to the people on the live. “Serious inquiries only!” She adds, wagging a finger towards the camera. “She is precious, and some of y’all are straight up freaks.”

You giggle at her words, trying to read the comments. Many of them we’re trying to gauge your sexuality, and upon reading another ‘is she gay’ comment, you decide to clarify. 

“I’m bisexual,” you murmur shyly. It had been nearly 6 years since you had realized you like girls, yet you still struggled with enunciating the fact. 

“Oh girl, they love you,” KK sings, patting herself on the back for her idea. “How about if y’all have some talent, join the live and woo my girl.”

Paige has since moved from her chair opposite you to sit next to you on the couch. Her leg is pressed up against yours, the warmth of her body radiating onto yours, and you bite your lip. 

“Yeah, yeah Paige is here. This ain’t about blondie today,” KK scolds the fans. “Now I want to see some good talent.” 

You turn your head to look at Paige, and she rolls her eyes at KK. “KK, don’t be mean to them,” she laughs, waving to the live. 

In your head you’re thinking that you honestly can’t even blame the fans. Paige was hot. You wanted to see her too. 

KK lets in the first girl, who upon seeing Paige, shrieks and throws her phone onto the carpet of her bedroom. You laugh, and KK lets out a huff of annoyance, deleting her immediately and moves on to find another person.

“This one seems promising,” she mutters, and you play with a piece of hair nervously. Being in front of the camera felt ridiculous, and you wonder how you got yourself into this situation. You are quickly pulled out of your thoughts by another young girl, desperately trying to serenade you and the other girls with a song. You try your best to avoid cringing, but the performance left you with bad secondhand embarrassment. 

A whole twenty minutes pass before someone promising pops up on the screen. A girl about your age with long dark hair and piercing green eyes is waving flirtatiously at the screen, causing you to sit up a little straighter. Next to you, Paige stiffens, and your eyes flit to her on KK’s phone, jaw clenched in a way that has your stomach rolling. You look down and notice her hand was closed in a fist, the other picking at a piece of lint on the couch. 

You avert your eyes back to the girl who was still smiling widely, and you make casual smalltalk with her, feeling warm from the attention of a pretty girl.

Comments are flooding in, and while you’re glad to see that many of them are about what a cute couple you and the mystery girl would make, you also notice an influx in comments regarding how mad Paige looked.

Before you could look over to check on her, she was flying off the couch and stomping out of the room. You hear her door close loudly, and you meet KK’s eye with a confused look. Paige’s departure has the fans going wild, and you whisper to the younger girl that she should end the live. 

“Okay, y’all, we gotta go. Feel free to DM her, though,” KK tells the dark-haired girl with a devilish grin, and she signs off quickly.

“What the fuck was all that about?” you ask no one in particular, eliciting shrugs from Aubrey, Ice, and Jana. 

“She’s been moody all day,” Aubrey says casually, and you pout, thinking about your best friend who was clearly unhappy about something.

“I’ll go check on her,” you mutter, heading towards the closed door of Paige’s bedroom. Standing in front of it, you take a deep breath before knocking.

“Come in,” you hear her mutter, and you enter the dark room, the only light shining from the tv and reflecting off the glassiness of Paige’s eyes. 

You sit on her bed next to her, placing a comforting hand on her thigh. “What’s wrong?” you ask gently, not wanting to spook her. She rarely opened up about the way she was feeling, and you did not want to rush her into admitting anything if she wasn’t ready.

She shrugs, quickly wiping at her eyes, and your heart nearly crumbles at the sight. You rub soothing circles onto her leg and reach up to wipe a stray tear from her cheek. The intimacy of it all is almost overwhelming, and you bite your bottom lip to keep in the feelings bubbling inside of you, threatening to expose everything.

“Just tired,” Paige mumbles, and you peek at her face, studying the beauty of her features. 

Your phone lights up in your hand, alerting you to a DM you had just received from the girl from the live, and you attempt to hold back a wide smile at her boldness. Paige looks down at your screen as you text the girl, Scarlett, back with a giddy expression. 

“I’m going to go to bed,” she says coldly, already moving to get under the covers. 

“Want me to stay?” You ask hopefully, trying to sound casual. Sleepovers between the two of you had become a cherished ritual, and you needed the simple proximity to make you feel whole again. 

“Nah,” she replies flatly, eyes closed and back turned in harsh finality. 

“O-oh, okay. Well, goodnight,” you stutter, temporarily stunned at her poignancy, and you flee her room with your head hung low in rejection.

“Is she okay?” KK asks. You don’t even know how to answer that.

“I have no clue what her deal is,” you mumble. “She’s never not wanted me around, so I think I’m just going to go. I’ve got a girl to get to know,” you add, trying to make yourself feel better.

“We’ll let you know if anything happens,” Ice responds kindly, and you nod gratefully in her direction before you take your leave.

You ignore the anxiety as you walk back home, instead focusing on the flirty messages Scarlett was sending to you. ‘This is what I need,’ you think. Paige was never going to be yours, and now you finally had a real chance at getting over her. 

With your head held high, you vowed that your feelings for Paige Bueckers would disappear. But would they really? Time could only tell. 

~

Part 2

Part 3

Hope you enjoyed! Let me know if you would be interested in a second part to this!!

[kaciidubs]

Gentle | Monstober Mini Fic

We won't talk about how late I am to everything currently, yeah?

✧ Summary: In which you get to finally indulge in your Orc boyfriend, even if it's just the tip of the iceberg. ✧  ✧ Word Count: 1.7k ✧ Warnings: Monster fucking, Orc! Chris, smut, fluff, slight size kink, slight humor ✧  ✧ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ✧  ✧ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chris, Channie, Baby, Reader is referred to as Pretty, Pretty Human, Human, slightly edited [I finished this at 3:40am] ✧ Stray Kids Masterlist ✧ General Masterlist

“Alright, Channie,” you spoke softly, your fingers tugging at the smooth ribbon of your sheer robe, “gentle.”

“Gentle.”

Your heart warmed at the way he parroted your advisory – a softness that was a stark contrast to his otherwise rugged features. 

Anyone in your position would've been fairly scared out of their minds, but you were far from it - this was liberating, exhilarating even. 

An orc and a human - your orc, the man you promised to remain by no matter the difficulties and stigma. 

This type of pairing wasn’t rare per se, but it was certainly less explored due to various... differences, to say the least; if not for the way he completely dwarfed you in sheer height and mass, then for the way he could lift a couch with one hand as if it were as light as a feather. 

Contrasts, like in the way his hand could easily cover your entire face while yours could barely cover the expanse of the line of his jaw to his upper cheekbone.

However, those differences only proved to fuel your desire for him more, and your sentiments were reflected tenfold – that much you were extremely positive about.

“Slowly.” Chris affirmed, the huskiness of his tone spurring goosebumps along your skin.

Nodding, you let the robe slip from your shoulders and fall to your arms, fighting back a smirk as his eyes flicked to the exposed skin. “Slowly – and if you want to stop, we’ll stop.”

His heated gaze met your own sultry stare, a knee-buckling grin accenting his gorgeous tusks. “If you want to stop, we’ll stop.”

Cementing the verbal agreement, you dropped your arms and let the robe flutter to the hardwood floor without a sound, leaving you bare and open to his viewing pleasure.

“Pretty.” Came a breathless sigh, and you weren’t sure if he truly meant to say it out loud as he regarded you with the same look of awe as one would to a radiant sunset.

You stepped away from the pool of fabric and sauntered your way toward the bed, climbing onto the plush mattress before finally making your first form of contact with him ever since you’d entered the room; hooking your leg over his waist and sitting pretty against his abdomen. 

“Hi.” Resting your hands against his chest, you reveled in the warmth that radiated off of his body before a small smirk grew on your lips, “Come here often?”

A strong huff shook your body against his as he rolled his eyes, though his amused smirk didn’t go unnoticed as a large hand trailed along your side before cupping your cheek. “Quiet, come.”

Obliging his request, you allowed yourself to be dragged down into a slow kiss, ever mindful of the tusks that grazed the corners of your lips.

Slow and steady only seemed to last as long as each breath that passed between the two of you - short and waning, while whatever semblance of control began to chip away with every subconscious grind of your hips against his lower stomach. Your desperation was only made worse when you felt the pressure of his tip meet the curve of your ass on one particularly long drag; the large head twitching slightly and the fabric of his boxers slightly damp.

“Channie?” You breathed against his lips, pulling away just enough to meet his eyes, your unspoken question translating perfectly with the heat of desire burning within your irises.

He took you in for a moment, eyes jumping between your own and your lips, “Okay.”

That was the last thing you remember properly registering before you found yourself grinding against his cock like a bitch in heat; your brain short circuiting the minute your pussy nestled against the wonderful veins that decorated his length like a textured map. It was heaven - at least, as close to heaven you would be getting as your aching cunt still felt empty, yearning for the final piece of your lover that was so close but still so far away.

“Fuck- ‘M not going anywhere, pretty.” Chris huffed, grunting at the way your nails pressed a little harder into his chest, yet it still wasn’t enough to break skin. “Take your time-”

“Christopher,” you all but whined, pinning him with a look that made his dick throb underneath you, “we take our time when you eat me out, we take our time when you finger me - right now I need you as fast as I can, as hard as I can. Can you please just give it to me like I want?”

Sliding your hips up, your body shivered as the large head of his dick slid through your folds, the smooth skin a welcome sensation against your sensitive clit yet an agonizing reminder of what you’re unable to partake in full.

“Come on, take care of me the way only you can, baby.”

The way only he could - even if it wasn’t to the extent you deserved, you still ached for him, and what type of Orc would he be if he continued to deny his little human what she wanted?

You could sense a shift in the air, a change that caused a spark of electricity to shoot down your spine, but before you could say anything your body jolted forward from a cant of his hips; a fiery glint flashing in his lidded eyes.

“Don’t know if I should call you needy, or greedy,” he murmured, large hands coming to rest on either side of your waist, “always ready for more no matter the limits.” He took the initiative in guiding your hips up the underside of his cock, using you like a toy as his tip bumped against your clit, “Pretty human, can’t get enough of what’s already too much to handle normally - I wonder who spoiled her?”

A short whimper escaped you as his own hips rocked forward, dragging his veiny cock back through your folds in a pace reminiscent of intermittent, languid thrusts.

“Who did this to you, pretty? Hm? Who made you this greedy?”

His goading tone made your pussy throb, clipped gasps tumbling from your lips while you endured the ride he controlled.

“Answer me, human.” He snarled, eyebrows pinching as his intense gaze kept your eyes locked on his own.

“Y-You…” The timidness was foreign to your ears, this new side of your lover completely new to your psyche. “You, Chris.”

A deep rumble reverberated within his chest, a lowly chuckle as his lips curled into a cocky smirk, “Me? No - see, I only give you what I think you can handle, it couldn’t be me.”

Your hands gripped his shoulders, nails pressing into his skin, “Chris-”

“I’ve only given you enough to keep you satisfied, enough to make sure that your needs were well taken care of,” his faux thrusts grew quicker, slicker with the mixture of precum and arousal that glistened along his dick, “maybe that’s what made you start thinking you could take more - crave more, is that it? Did I ruin my pretty little human?”

“Y-Yes!” Dropping your head forward, you swallowed thickly as your legs twitched at his sides, the stimulation conquering you in ways you’d never felt before. “You ruined me, Channie - C-Can’t even think about going back to a-another human, it wouldn’t be enough.”

His hands flexed, body shuddering with a deep breath as he tried his best to conceal the pride that swelled within him. “Another human, hm? What about another Orc?”

You shook your head vehemently, “No- God, no, it’s only you!”

“Eyes up, pretty.”

Lifting your head, you met his sultry gaze with pleasure glazed eyes.

“Say it again.”

“I-It-” A broken moan tumbled from your lips, your orgasm just on the horizon, “It’s only you - I only want you!”

His eyelids fluttered, hips bucking just a bit harder, “F-Fuck, good girl.”

“I-I’m close, Channie,” you whimpered, your body working overtime to try to overpower his grip on you to garner a fraction of more stimulation, “I’m so close, baby.”

“Go on, pretty - come for me, show me how gorgeous you’d look coming on my cock.”

Your stomach clenched hard enough to make you double over, though his hands kept you steady as your walls fluttered and throbbed, choked breaths shaking your body all the while.

Chris grunted, clenching his jaw as he slid his hips back just enough to nestle his tip against your spasming cunt, daring to press it harder against your entrance in wishful desires of feeling more of your warmth - his eyes fluttering shut as his mind ran wild.

“C-Chris?”

“So close…” He breathed, hips twitching as his conscience fought against his reality. “Y-You’re not the only one ruined, pretty,” his hips continued to rock up, fucking you with the only part of his cock that could remotely fit, “what I wouldn’t give to be inside of you, to feel you fully - my pretty human.”

“Inside…” You parroted breathlessly, one hand sliding to his chest while the other ventured up to tangle in his mussed curls, “To feel me… To come in me…”

His hands squeezed your sides, trembling slightly as he shook his head, “D-Don't.”

“Can you? Like this? Just this once?” You rolled your hips back, wiggling against his tip, “Please, baby - show me how gorgeous you’d look coming inside of me.”

“F-Fuck, fuck, fuck-”

You felt his cock twitch, his hips bucking up until a loud moan flew past his lips.

The sensation was new, different yet welcomed all the same; the warmth of his seed flooding against your cunt before excessively dripping toward your clit and creating a puddle on his lower stomach.

Your body attempted to press back further but you were stopped by his vice grip, pulling you away so the last wave of his orgasm could paint a few lines up his stomach.

A whine of protest floated through you, “Channie!”

“Pretty,” he deadpanned, blinking hard before opening his eyes to look at you with a raised eyebrow, “you’re getting too greedy now.”

“It’s your fault for being so irresistible.” Huffing out a light laugh, a shiver ran down your spine as you felt some of his cum subsequently drip out of you.

Humming in faux agreement, he nodded, “Well, let’s go get cleaned up and you can tell me all the ways me being irresistible turns you into an insatiable beast.”

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @s00buwu, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @bahng-chrizz, @milknhoneyracha, @hann1bee, @palindrome969, @newhope8, @kpopsstuffs, @starquokka, @wolfs-howling, @laylasbunbunny, @4-chan-inpadella, @butterflydemons, @kimahreummm, @ta3baee, @bethanysnow,  @skz-smut-reader

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

[niallhorxns]

Niall Horan x Reader: Not Like Him

Prompt: Because of your past, you hate confrontation. One day, Niall comes home particularly grumpy.

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: anxiety, past verbal abuse mention

A/N: hi all!!! continuing to try and post on here. please feel free to send any niall x reader prompts / ideas my way :)

You’re in the midst of putting a dish you just washed away when you hear the front door open, then suddenly slam shut. The pictures hanging on the wall rattle as you peer around the corner anxiously. The first thing you see is Niall bustling through the door. Normally, having Niall home would cause a surge of warmth and excitement to rush through you– but today, instantly, you recognize that something about his demeanor is off. 

He throws his flannel on the chair and with his back facing you, runs his hand through his hair. When he turns to you, there’s no warm smile or cheerful greeting. Instead, he takes a few steps then tosses his keys on the counter, letting them slide carelessly across the surface. He makes no effort to even acknowledge your existence. 

Instantly, a lump forms in your throat, making it harder and harder to breathe. You hate tension… Or any sort of confrontation, really. Your parent’s entire marriage was built off tension and confrontation– passive aggressive comments and slamming doors leading to screaming, which then led to shattered dishes or dented walls. 

Your father had a temper. And it didn't matter how well behaved or helpful or unseen you were. Something always managed to spark his anger. The nights he drank were worse, and as the years went on, the sober version of himself made less and less of an appearance. 

Although you didn't recognize it at the time, looking back, you knew that you spent the vast majority of your childhood living on edge– always waiting for the yelling or the screaming. You were afraid more often than not. And that wasn't something you could just unlearn when you were old enough to leave– no matter how far away you were.  

In fact, it took years of hard work to heal from the trauma you'd experienced. But for so long, it felt like no matter how much therapy you attended or self-help books you read, there was always a part of you that was just stuck. 

Until you met Niall. 

Niall was the missing piece. His presence alone was healing. He was calm and safe and consistent. He was patient and gentle and kind. And when you finally got up enough courage to tell him about your childhood, he listened carefully, his brows furrowed somberly. It was like your trauma caused him physical pain– that's how much he loved you– how much he felt with you. 

With Niall, you could safely work on communicating without screaming matches or slamming doors. It had taken time, but slowly, piece by piece, you started to rebuild, until you actually felt like you could trust someone again. 

And of course, even now, in the midst of whatever this unknown territory was, you trust him. But despite that, tension is radiating off from him. It’s almost palpable in the air– suffocating you. 

You have to say something– Niall will understand. 

“How was your day?” You ask nervously, already knowing the answer. 

Niall walks right past you to the fridge, pulling the door open and ignoring your question.  

You bite your lower lip, your anxiety settling like a rock in your stomach. This feeling felt too familiar… 

“Is everything okay?” you ask. He pulls out a beer, showing no sign that he even heard you. He cracks it open, the sound alone sending shivers down your spine as you’re instantly reminded of all the nights your father would drink five beers before even recognizing you were home. But Niall is not your dad, you remind yourself. Niall is gentle. Niall is kind. 

He takes a long swig before walking towards the stairs.

“Niall?” you say, worry evident in your tone. 

He doesn’t stop. 

Niall isn't like him. Niall cares about your feelings. Niall loves you.

You follow him a few steps, knowing that you can’t let him just go to bed this… angry? Upset? Whatever he is– 

“Niall, what’s going on–”

“Oh my God!” He bellows suddenly, waving his arms and spinning in his tracks to finally look at you. “Can you leave me alone for one goddamn second?!”

Before you can quiet down your brain or repeat all the ways Niall was different from your father, your body reacts as if they are one and the same. You flinch harshly from his sudden movements and loud tone, like your body remembered exactly how it felt to live in your house twenty years ago. And before you can help it, the glass cup in your hand falls to the floor, shattering around your feet. 

The noise makes you snap out of your trance. Looking down at the mess you made, your mouth goes dry. Your whole body has already begun shaking and you can feel the tears fighting their way to your eyes. 

“I’m sorry–” you whisper, choking back a sob. Then you brace for the screaming– the berating. Clumsy, stupid, idiot. 

Nervously, you kneel down, tucking your hair behind your ear while you try to pick up the broken glass. What the hell is wrong with you? It’s obvious Niall had a bad day. So why couldn’t you just leave him alone? The last thing he needs is you making and being a mess. 

“Sorry–“ you mutter, it’s so quiet though, you doubt he hears. “I’m sorry,” you repeat. You’re so anxious you don’t even grab a dustpan, you just start collecting pieces of shattered glass in your hand. Your vision quickly becomes blurry with tears as they streak down your cheeks. 

“Shit,” you vaguely hear, but you don’t stop trying to clean up. You’re frantic, grabbing whatever you can off the floor before he can get more upset about it. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

Through your clouded vision, you can’t see what you’re collecting off the floor– all you know is that you have to keep cleaning it up.

“Baby, stop–”  

The voice is distant.

“I promise I’ll clean it up,” you say, hands shaking so violently, you wonder how no pieces have sliced open your skin yet. 

“Baby–” 

It’s just background noise. 

“Hey, hey, hey.” 

You vaguely see a figure kneel beside you and before you can wave him away, Niall reaches out– hand cupping yours before forcing open your fingers. As soon as the glass is out of your hand, you see him reach up to toss it on the counter before kneeling back down to be on your level. 

All it takes is one arm wrapping around your shoulders for you to break. Suddenly, you can’t hold back the sob that’s been sitting in your throat. The second it escapes from your lips, Niall pulls you into his chest tightly. 

“C’mere,” he exhales, chin resting on your head while he slides the both of you back against the cupboard. You let out a choked gasp and cling to him. 

His arm winds tightly around you, locking you in place. “I’m so sorry,” he breathes.  

“I have to clean it up–” you cry.  

“Shh,” he soothes. He rocks you on the floor like that, his arms wrapped around you securely.  Your breathing is choppy as you shake against him. Niall grabs your bicep with his hand, holding you steady while his thumb rubs up and down your bare skin gently, trying to calm you down. 

You’re not sure how long it takes for you to feel like you can think again. Time stands still as you settle into his embrace. Niall’s embrace– you remind yourself. Not your father’s. Because your father wouldn’t embrace you after yelling like that. And he certainly wouldn’t embrace you after you broke a dish. 

After a while, your breathing gradually returns to normal again. Moments later, you feel him shift. “Did you cut yourself?” he asks carefully. 

He supports the majority of your weight, all but lifting you off the floor before scanning the length of you. 

You shake your head. At least you didn’t think you did. 

Niall nods before reaching his hand out. “C’mon, let’s get away from the glass.”

You take it willingly, sighing as you feel the warmth from his palm spread through your hand. He guides you away from the pile of glass and towards the kitchen island. He helps you settle into one of the tall stools. 

“Hey,” you hear him whisper. But you’re still staring at the mess, so worried about cleaning it up. Until you feel firm, but careful hands cupping each side of your face– forcing your attention to shift towards him. “Hey,” he repeats. 

His calloused thumb trails along your cheek. Before you know what you’re doing, you’re leaning into his touch, craving his comfort. 

“Did you cut yourself?” he asks again, clearly not trusting your earlier response. 

To be fair– you’re not even sure that you trust your earlier response. By now, you feel like you’re actually back in your own body, and feel no pain. So you shake your head, this time more convincingly.  

As soon as you give the confirmation that you’re alright, Niall takes a step forward and wraps his arms around your shoulders, crashing his body against yours.  

“I’m so sorry,” he says, lips ghosting against the top of your head. “I didn’t mean to yell like that.”

You nod into his shirt, pinching the fabric between your fingers and breathing in the smell of him. Niall is not your dad, you repeat. Niall apologizes. Niall loves you. 

“It’s okay,” you whisper, you were slightly more calm. “I’m sorry I was so annoying– I’m sorry I broke the glass.”

You feel Niall shake his head above you. “No–” he says firmly. “I don’t give a shit about the glass. I had a shitty day,” he sighs. “A really shitty day. But that’s not your fault.”

“I should have just given you space.”

He shakes his head again, pulling back from his embrace to look at you earnestly. “No– We’re supposed to talk about things. I promised you I’d always talk to you about things, and I broke that today.”

He brushes a few loose strands of hair from your face, before wiping some stray tears stuck under your eyes. “I know how much yelling activates you– I know it sets you off, and I just wasn’t thinking.”

“You’re allowed to get annoyed,” you remind him. “And angry. You’re allowed to yell.” 

“That’s not how you and I communicate,” he says. “That’s not ever how I want to communicate, and I’m sorry. I’ll do better next time”

Squeezing him tighter, you nod against his chest. 

Because Niall is not your father and you believe him.

[loves0phelia]

hii, I was wondering if I could request something with rafe! when they’re stranded in Morocco, at night, all of them together after Sarah and JJ come back, around the fire, all bonding and rafe being a bit apart, maybe reader tries to talk to him, trying to make him feel less alone or something? would love to see what you come up with!<3

Crazier

Summery: Realizing your as crazy as Rafe for loving him.

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: mention of murder, grammar mistakes.

A/N: thank you for requesting i hope you like it even though its not exactly what you asked xx

Everyone walks out of the water slowly and exhausted, the night was crazy. The boat was stranded a few feet away from the shore because of the intense storm that had hit. You were all dizzy and disoriented but also insanely worried. Your friends Sarah and JJ had both disappeared into the water earlier that night, lost in the waves, with no way to find them.

Rafe was the first to hit solid ground. He stumbled forward, collapsing onto his back in the sand, spitting out seawater. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, the salty air biting at his raw throat. 

“I looked everywhere,” John B said, running up the hill, his voice shaky and hoarse. He coughed, forcing himself upright with one hand pressed to his chest.

“I couldn't find them,”  He said in defeat, but nobody answered. You and the rest of your friends only shook your head and sighed. The silence was heavy.

You pushed your hair out of your face, looking over the crackling fire.

“Maybe they just washed up further down the beach. We have to keep looking,” John B said, still hoping his pregnant wife and his best friend weren't gone forever.

“Well look at first light” Kie affirmed earning nods from the rest of the pogues.

Your gaze drifted from the fire for a second and you noticed Rafe, sitting on the other side of the fire, apart from the group. His eyes connected with yours and a chill went down your spine. It's like you and he understood each other without speaking a word. You knew you needed to talk to him as soon as possible. You needed to.

The sun rose on the horizon and the beach was eerily quiet now, save for the crashing waves and the occasional call of a seabird. The others were spread out, combing the shoreline for any sign of Sarah or JJ. But Rafe was apart from them, sitting on a jagged rock a little further down the beach, his shoulders hunched and his face set in a grim expression.

Rafe had stayed up all night, he would never say it but he was worried about his sister. The mere thought of his sister being gone, drowned in the ocean, with no way to find her body, sickened him. He looked so out of place—angry, lost, and alone and while the Pogues had ignored him, you couldn’t. You knew Rafe too well to leave him like this.

Taking a deep breath, you veered off course and approached him.  

“Hey,” you called softly.  

Rafe didn’t look up. He was staring at the waves, his jaw tight, his hands resting on his knees.  

“Rafe,” you tried again, more gently this time.  

He finally turned his head, his eyes narrowing slightly when he saw you. “What do you want, Y/N?” His tone was sharp, but there was no real bite to it.  

You sighed, and sat crisscrossed in the sand next to him “I just wanted to check on you. You’ve been sitting here for a while.”  

“Why? Thought you Pogues hated me.”  He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head

“That’s not true,” you said quickly, and after hesitating you added, “I don’t. I never did”  

That seemed to catch his attention. He looked at you fully now, his blue eyes searching yours. “Yeah? Since when?”  

You tilted your head, a faint smile tugging at your lips despite the tension. “Since always, Rafe. You know that.”  

“Doesn’t feel like it,” he muttered. “Feels like I’m the villain in everyone’s story. Including yours.”  Rafe’s gaze dropped to the ground, his fingers digging into his jeans.

“That’s not fair,” you said, your voice soft but firm. “We’ve been through a lot, you and me. And yeah, you’ve made some… questionable choices. But that doesn’t erase everything from before.”  

He scoffed, running a hand through his buzzed hair. “Before. You mean before I screwed everything up, right? Before I became the guy everyone loved to hate.”  

You frowned, your heart aching at the bitterness in his voice. “Rafe, you’re not that guy to me. I still see the person I used to know. The one who’d sneak out of Tannyhill to meet me, a pogue, at the docks. The one who didn’t care I had to work 36 hours a week to be able to live. The one who used to make me laugh when I had the worst days ever.”  

“Yeah,” he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper. “But that guy’s long gone, Y/N.”  

You shook your head, leaning in slightly. “I don’t believe that. Not completely. I think he’s still in there somewhere.”  

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. He just stared at the ocean, the tension in his jaw slowly easing. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer, more vulnerable.  

“Why are you even talking to me? After everything… Why bother?”  

You reached out hesitantly, your fingers brushing against his. “Because I care about you, Rafe. I always have, always will”  

He didn’t pull away, but he didn’t look at you either. Instead, he stared at your hands for a long moment.

“How? How can you still care? I ruined everything after… after I killed Peterkin. I ruined us” His tone was vulnerable.

The memory came unbidden, sharp and vivid like a wound reopened. 

It had been late—one of those sticky, humid Outer Banks nights when the air clung to your skin, thick with salt and heat. You stood on the dock by the marsh, your arms wrapped around yourself, waiting. The soft lapping of water against the pylons had been the only sound as you stared at the dark water.  

Rafe had promised he’d meet you there. The day was crazy. John B had come running to the chateau his skin covered in blood that wasn't his. He had claimed Rafe, your Rafe, had murdered the sheriff. But you couldn't believe it you had to ask your boyfriend yourself.

When he finally showed up, the boy you’d known was a shadow of himself. His shirt was wrinkled and half-untucked, his hair wild like he’d run his hands through it a thousand times. And his eyes—those piercing blue eyes you used to get lost in—were bloodshot and unfocused.  

“Rafe,” you said softly, walking up to him, your hands reaching for him like magnets, the edge of worry sharpening your tone. “What’s going on?”  

He stumbled slightly as he stepped onto the dock, catching himself against a post. “Nothing,” he said, brushing your concern away with a shaky laugh. “Why do you always gotta ask that, huh? I’m fine.”  

“You don’t look fine,” you countered, stepping closer. You could smell the alcohol on him, sharp and sour, mingling with something else you couldn't quite place. Your heart twisted painfully. “Rafe, is it true? Is it true what John B said?”  Tears flooded your vision.

“John B?” He let out a bitter laugh, louder than it needed to be. His unsteady voice carried over the quiet water.

“Yes, did you kill the sheriff?”  Your brows furrowed at his behaviour.

“No! I was saving my dad!” he slurred, stepping closer to you, “you’re always gonna believe your little friends over me uh?!”

“That’s not true!” You shot back, Your voice rising in frustration. “I’m here because I don't believe them. I'm here because I want to know your side of the story.”  

He scoffed, turning his back to you and running a hand through his hair. “Fine, I did kill her!” he shouted and his voice echoed over the water surrounding you.

“Why Rafe? What happened?” your chest tightened and your hands still reached for him but he stepped back and pushed your hands away. 

“She was gonna kill my dad!” he said, his voice raw now, almost broken as he hyperventilated.

You stepped closer, Your eyes searching for his. “Rafe, breathe please, baby.”  Once more you stepped toward him but this time he pushed you away entirely. Your back hits the railing of the dock hard, the wood digging into your skin.

“Don't fucking touch me!” he screamed and held his head like he was in pain.  

Tears burned in your eyes. “Rafe,” you said, your voice trembling. “don't push me away, please. We can figure it out together okay? It doesn't matter to me what you did, I love you”  

He took a step back, his gaze dropping to the ground. “Don't come near me again alright?”  

“Don’t do this,” you begged, your voice cracking.  

But Rafe had already turned away, walking back down the dock toward his truck. You stood there, frozen, watching as he disappeared into the night.  

What you didn't know was, after this moment Rafe felt as if his lungs were being ripped from his body, he couldn't breathe. The feeling of losing you was too much for him even though it was his fault. But you didn't deserve the chaos of his life so he left you broken and empty.

That was the last time you’d seen him before everything fell apart—before all the adventures, the chaos, and the betrayals that split your worlds in two.  

Back in the present, you blinked, the memory dissolving like mist. You glanced over at Rafe, his face as unreadable as ever. For a moment, the words were stuck in your throat.  

“I've always loved you, Rafe. Maybe it's because I'm crazy. Maybe I'm even crazier for thinking you're a good person for killing for the people you love no matter what” At your words Rafe eyes widen and his hand tightens around yours almost like he searched for signs to understand if he was dreaming or not.

“I'd kill for you in a heartbeat,” he whispered.

“And I'd kill for you” Yours and Rafe's eyes pierced each other's souls.

“Guys, they are back!” You heard Pope scream as JJ and Sarah appeared behind the mountain of sand.

Rafe broke eye contact to look over at his sister and when he saw she was in fact well and alive you could see the tension being lifted from his shoulder.

Knowing you still loved him just as much as he still loved you and knowing his sister was safe was all that mattered. 

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || 141 x Reader

[ Chapter 9 ] || [ Chapter 11 ]

Pairing: Ghost x gn!Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.7K~ Tags: NO SMUT, simon is a flirt, first kiss, simon has a PIERCING, simon needed to be held okay? Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: ghost HAS MADE THE MOVE.

Chapter 10: SIMON?!

You had entered the pub looking for someone who you didn’t know. Unlike with John, you didn’t even have a picture of Simon’s face to go off of.

Not that you had needed one. Going inside and scanning the room, you immediately spotted a tall, blond man with a black mask holding a tumbler of whiskey. He was leaning against a back wall by the dartboard, one foot propped up on the wall behind him.

Tall, blond, and a fan of Bourbon. Check, check and check.

You had made your way over almost immediately, being greeted with a squinting of his eyes and a dipping of his head off to the side.

“You look good.” He had said before raising a finger in the air and spinning it, beckoning you to give a little spin. Which you did.

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” You had retorted as he pulled away from the wall and guided you to the bar, one hand on your shoulder, so he could pay you for the drink, as you had so salaciously demanded on Tinder.

After that, he took you outside, to a table in the corner of the outdoor area of the pub. He parked himself on a lone armchair, legs spread and his position relaxed, spine curled ever so slightly, to make him take up less space. As if that’s somehow possible.

Then, Simon tapped his palm on his lap, beckoning you to sit, which you did without question. His hand circled around your waist, pulling your back to press against his chest.

He felt you press your ass back against his bulge, which earned you a dark rumble of a chuckle right into your ear. “Not as shy as I expected you’d be.” He had whispered.

“You’re the one who made me sit on your lap.” You had retorted as you looked back at him, only to get your head swiveled forward once more by his firm hand on your jaw.

“Eyes forward.” He had demanded. “I wanna drink in peace.” He had told you. He was bossy, but not exactly in a bad way.

“I guess that answers my question.” You had told him as you sipped from your own glass. Behind you, Simon did the same. You could hear the ice clinking against the glass as he dipped the tumbler back to sip from.

“Which one?” He had asked after a wet swallow of his drink and smacking his lips lightly.

“If you were going to wear the mask.” You had answered.

“It’s for your own benefit.” He had retorted.

“How’s that?” You had asked, daring to turn back to look at him, only to be stopped by his firm hand on your jaw, correcting your gaze away again, wordlessly.

“I’m not exactly a pretty sight under this.” He had told you. “Would rather not scare you off.”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.” You had retorted. “And I doubt you could scare me off.” You added. “Though…” You had trailed off, thinking for a moment. “I won’t deny that if you’re like… super disfigured I might have a bit of a reaction to it at first.” You had told him sincerely.

That had earned you another rumble of a laugh behind you as he leaned in, pressing his chest a bit more against your back.

“Tell you what.” He had said softly in your ear. “I’ll let you have a glimpse soon enough, if the night ends up going the way I wish for it to.”

-

After a few hours getting to know each other, in which Simon kept up his promise of being honest within reason, you ended up at a McDonald’s parking lot, eating greasy food in the front seat and talking some more about all sorts of things. 

You told him about your ex, about your family, about work, about your current obsessions in a certain TV show, a certain videogame, a certain actor… And he returned with his own. Who would’ve thought that this mysterious, sort of strange, guy would like Pedro Pascal?

He made you laugh, his sense of humour extremely morbid and sarcastic and his deliveries deadpan, but just smart enough to draw laughter out of you… And whenever you retorted with a smartass comment of your own, you swore you saw him smiling… Even if the mask was in the way, the corners of his eyes crinkled.

And you made sure to dutifully look away when he loosened his neck gaiter at the bottom, in order to stick fries and nuggets and his drink straw under it…

At midnight, you found yourself being dropped off at home… And just like it happened with John, you found yourself not quite wanting the night to end…

So you invited him upstairs.

-

It’s 5 A.M. when you find yourself waking up in his arms, stirring awake ever so slightly by his movement.

The sun is starting to rise, lighting the room ever so slightly, and making it so you can kind of see a few shadows of your furniture around the room.

Bleary-eyed and groggy, you rub your eyelids, finding Simon’s silhouette still next to you and looking at you.

“You alright?” You ask him softly, receiving a soft ‘Mhm’ in return. You pull yourself away from his arms, leaning up on one of your elbows to look at him.

“Had fun last night.” He tells you as he stretches a bit. “Should probably be heading back to base in a minute, though.”

Your bare leg rubbed lightly against his thigh which was still clad in denim, a consequence of the two of you having had some sort of… sleepover. That’s the best way of putting it.

“I’m glad. I had fun too… Weirdly enough.” You reply as you start to sit up in bed as well. “Never did think I’d end up getting… laid but… not. ‘Laid together in bed’, I guess?” You joke a bit, still too groggy to really make a joke.

“Can just call it cuddling.” He replies as he pulls the covers back a bit in order to sit up and turns on your bedside table lamp, lighting the room in a warm-toned orange-y light and casting shadows further toward the door and the hall.

He still has that neck gaiter of his on over his features, or… maybe he took it off and put it back on? You can’t be sure, you were asleep.

After coming home, you talked some more, played Mario Kart on your switch, watched a horror movie, during which he complained way too much about the realism of the blood splatter and the injuries… And then you kind of… cuddled to sleep.

“I think we both needed this.” You tell him as he nods his head. “Haven’t gotten a good cuddle in… well, ages… And you’re surprisingly comfortable.” You add.

“Definitely.” He tells you, his eyes squinting a bit again. “I… like you.” He admits.

“I… Thank you?” You reply as you sit up in bed next to him, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“That felt wrong to say aloud. Felt a little bit like a little boy in the playground.” He admits and chuckles at himself.

“Yeah… Well… I like you too.” You reply and chuckle as well at how silly it feels to say it so openly.

“Of course you do.” Simon retorts, his tone still flat and deadpan even as he spoke himself up and acted cocky.

“Oh piss off, Simon… It’s too early to deal with your shit right now.” You grumble and nudge at him with your elbow.

“Oh, c’mon… You dealt with it all night last night.” He tells you as he leans over, getting his face close to yours, the neck gaiter just softly grazing against your shoulder.

“Shut up.” You reply, a smirk on your lips. His eyes crinkle into a smile as well, which makes your smirk soften into a little smile.

You gently grab his face with his hand which makes his eyes widen and, as a reflex, he grabs your wrist and stops you from pulling down/up his untucked neck gaiter and show you his face.

This had happened a couple times last night. One of which was you trying to tuck a corner of his mask into his neck had earned you a grab from him, that only relaxed when you explained your intentions.

He’s a deeply mistrusting person, you’ve noticed… And you are strangely intrigued by it.

“Relax.” You tell him. “I’m not going to pull it off.” You assure him once more, which makes him relax.

Instead, you lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek, right on the edge where the mask meets his cheek, your lips softly brushing the stitching of the top of the gaiter. 

His breath hitches and his eyes close for a moment, seemingly basking in the warmth of your little kiss.

As you pull back, his eyes snap open again and he rushes forward, grabbing your whole jaw with his large, rough hand before pulling your whole face toward him once more.

His other hand moves the gaiter up just enough to capture your mouth in his, but not enough to earn you a glimpse of his features. 

His mouth is warm, his lips chapped and dry to shit, and his tongue is… Is that a piercing? Your eyes double in size when your tongue rubs against the cold metal nubs of his barbell piecing.

Simon’s eyes are open too, the corners crinkled in amusement at your shocked reaction. He keeps his grip on your jaw as your eyes slowly fall closed, giving into the kiss.

It’s completely different compared to John’s kisses, or Ethan’s back when you were together. Simon kisses like he wants to take your breath away.

After a moment, he pulls back, the neck gaiter quickly falls back down to cover his face and when your eyes open, it’s as if nothing happened. Simon is up on his feet, putting on his boots and leather jacket.

“We should do this again.” Simon tells you. “I’ll text you.” He adds and winks at you before turning and walking out of your room.

After a moment, you hear the front door of your apartment close and there you are, left sitting in bed, blinking away the shock.

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[debonairprincesposts]

Burn out

(Jason Todd x Reader)

Summary: Jason comes home and finds reader passed out in the bathroom

Words: 1.7k

As Jason stepped through the door of his apartment, the familiar scent of leather and faint traces of gun oil greeted him. The day had been long, filled with the usual patrols and skirmishes that left him both physically and mentally drained. Yet, as he closed the door behind him, a sense of relief washed over him. Home was supposed to be a sanctuary, a place where he could let the weight of the world slip away.

But as he walked deeper into the dimly lit space, something felt off. The silence hung heavy in the air, and an unsettling instinct prickled at the back of his mind. He called out for you, his girlfriend, but the only response was the echo of his own voice.

"Babe? You here?"

No answer.

His heart began to race as he moved through the living room, a creeping sense of dread pooling in his stomach. He checked the kitchen; no sign of you. The soft light from the bathroom was slightly ajar, casting a warm glow that felt at odds with the chill creeping up his spine.

"Chipmunk?" he called again, his voice tightening.

Pushing the bathroom door open, he was met with a sight that froze him in place. There, on the cold tile floor, lay you, unconscious. Panic surged through him like a tidal wave, and his heart pounded against his ribcage. He rushed to your side, kneeling beside you, his hands trembling as he reached out to check for any signs of life.

He called out your name in panic, his voice a mix of urgency and fear. He gently shook your shoulder, trying to rouse you, but there was no response. The sight of your pale face, framed by disheveled hair, sent a jolt of anxiety coursing through him. Why were you here? Why weren’t you in bed?

He quickly scanned the bathroom, searching for clues. Had you been sick? Were you hurt? His mind raced with scenarios, each more terrifying than the last. He couldn't lose you—not like this. Not after everything they had fought through together.

With a swift motion, he gathered you in his arms, cradling you against his chest. The warmth of your body contrasted sharply with the coldness of the tiles beneath them. His heart ached as he felt your fragile weight. For a moment, he simply held you, breathing in the familiar scent of your shampoo, trying to anchor himself in the chaos of his thoughts.

"Come on, sweetheart, wake up," he murmured, desperation creeping into his voice. He could feel his panic rising, his mind flashing back to the times he had lost people he loved. "You can't do this to me."

He gently brushed your hair back from your face, his fingers shaking with worry. Jason had always been the tough one, the one who faced danger head-on, but this—this was different. This was vulnerability, and it terrified him. The thought of you being in pain, of you suffering alone while he was out fighting crime, clawed at his insides.

"Please, just open your eyes," he pleaded, his throat tightening. The memories of their laughter, their late-night talks, and the way you made the darkness feel a little less suffocating flooded his mind. He couldn't imagine his life without you.

After what felt like an eternity, you stirred. Your eyelids fluttered, and you groaned softly, the sound like a balm to his frayed nerves. Relief flooded through him, yet he felt anger bubbling beneath the surface. How could you let yourself get to this point? Did you not know how much you meant to him?

"Baby, hey, it's me," he said softly, brushing his thumb over your cheek. "You're going to be okay. Just stay with me."

As your eyes slowly opened, confusion clouded your gaze. Jason felt his heart leap at the sight of you, but the worry didn't dissipate. He needed to know why this had happened, why you had collapsed like this.

"I... what happened?" You murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

"You scared the hell out of me," he replied, his voice firm yet laced with tenderness. "You passed out. We need to get you checked out."

He helped you sit up, wrapping an arm around your shoulders for support. The concern etched across his face mirrored the tumult of emotions inside him—relief mingled with anger and an overwhelming need to protect.

"Let's get you to bed," he said, his tone softening. He couldn't bear to see you so vulnerable, so fragile. You needed him now more than ever, and he vowed to be there for you, to ensure you never felt alone in your struggles again.

As he guided you to her feet, he held you close, arm around your waist as he helped you to your room.

Once Jason got you to your bedroom, the warm, inviting space felt like a sanctuary amidst the chaos of the day. The soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated the room, casting gentle shadows on the walls. He guided you to sit on the edge of the bed, his hands steadying you as she swayed slightly.

"Just take a moment," he said, his voice low and reassuring. He knelt down in front of you, searching your eyes for any sign of lingering confusion or distress. "You scared me back there."

You nodded slowly, your brow furrowing slightly as you took in your surroundings. Jason's heart ached at the sight of you looking so lost. He brushed his fingers over your cheek, the warmth of his hand a comforting contrast to the worry that gnawed at him.

"Let's get you some water," he said, standing up and moving toward the bedside table. He poured a glass from the pitcher he always kept filled, his movements deliberate and careful. He could feel the tension in his body, a lingering anxiety that wouldn't easily dissipate.

Returning to your side, he handed you the glass, watching intently as you took small sips. "Easy, don't rush it," he instructed gently, the protective instinct in him flaring up. He couldn't help but wonder if you had been pushing yourself too hard again.

As you finished, he took the glass from you, placing it back on the table. He sat beside you on the bed, the mattress sinking slightly under his weight. "Do you feel any better?" he asked, his tone softer now, a hint of vulnerability breaking through his usual bravado.

"Yeah, just a bit dizzy," you admitted, your voice still shaky. "I didn't mean to worry you."

His heart softened at your words. "You don't have to apologize. I just... I hate seeing you like this," he confessed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I wish you would let me in more when you're feeling overwhelmed."

You looked down, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. "I didn't think it was that bad. I guess I just pushed myself too far."

Jason sighed, feeling the weight of your words. He wanted to fix everything for you, to protect you from the world's harsh realities. "You don't have to do everything alone, you know? I'm here for you, always. Just let me help."

He shifted closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you gently against him. The warmth of your body against his felt grounding, and he breathed out slowly, trying to calm the storm of emotions within him. "What can I do to help you right now?" he asked, his voice low and steady.

"Honestly? Just sit with me for a bit," you replied, leaning your head against his shoulder. The simple request tugged at his heartstrings, and he nodded, grateful for the opportunity to be close to you.

They sat in silence for a few moments, the only sounds being the soft ticking of the clock and the occasional creak of the building settling. Jason's mind raced with thoughts of how he could support you better in the future, how he could help you navigate the struggles she faced. But for now, he focused on being present, feeling the comforting rhythm of your breathing against him.

After a while, he pulled away slightly to look into your eyes. "Do you want something to eat? Maybe some soup or something light? I can whip up something quick," he offered, eager to take care of you in any way he could.

You smiled faintly, your eyes sparkling with gratitude. "That sounds nice, actually. I'd love some soup."

"Alright, stay put," he said, rising from the bed and heading to the kitchen. As he moved through the familiar space, he felt a surge of purpose. He opened the cupboard, pulling out a can of soup—comfort food that reminded him of simpler times.

While the soup heated on the stove, he couldn't shake the feeling of protectiveness that enveloped him. He considered how he could make you feel more secure in your relationship, how he could encourage you to lean on him rather than carry your burdens alone.

Minutes later, he returned to the bedroom with a steaming bowl of soup, the scent filling the air with warmth. "Here you go," he said, setting the bowl on your lap. "Just take small bites, okay?"

You laughed softly, the sound lifting his spirits. "Yes, sir," you replied, picking up the spoon and taking a cautious sip. He watched you closely, a smile breaking through his earlier worry as you visibly relaxed.

"See? Not so bad," he said, leaning back against the headboard, enjoying the sight of you slowly regaining your strength.

After a few more bites, you looked at him, you expression serious. "Jason, thank you for being here. I don't know what I'd do without you."

He felt a warmth bloom in his chest at her words. "I'll always be here. Just promise me you'll talk to me when things get tough, okay? I can't help if I don't know what's going on."

You nodded, your eyes reflecting sincerity. "I promise. I'll try."

As the two of them settled into a comfortable silence, Jason couldn't shake the feeling that this moment, this simple act of caring, was what made everything worthwhile. He was determined to protect you—not just from the dangers outside but from the struggles within. He breathed a sigh of relief. At least you’re okay.

Hope y’all liked it ∠(ᐛ 」∠)

[froggiewrites]

hello i wanted to request a comfort fic with Law,Zoro and Sanji with their s/o being depressed,stressed

thanks in advance

Hi, sorry this took so long! This is the first time I've written a few smaller scenarios instead of one larger fic and I've gotta say, I really enjoyed it. It was a nice change of pace! So thank you for requesting this 😊 I hope this fic brings you the comfort you need, and that you're doing well!!

Hard Times

Pairing: Law, Zoro, Sanji x Reader

SFW

Summary: You've not been yourself lately, and he's been worried about you. Warnings: Mild Hurt/Comfort, Fluff Word Count: 1.7k total (a little over 500 each)

It didn’t take him long to notice something was wrong. There was a subtle change in you, something a less observant man would have missed. But you always had his attention, and he knew you well. You were a bit slower to respond, your eyes a bit unfocused, your smile less bright. He tried to tell himself it was nothing, that you were just a bit tired, but after the third time of finding you in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, he knew that you needed some more support. He was more than happy to be that support.

Law

Law is a deeply caring man, despite his attempts to appear otherwise, but he is also, unfortunately, terrible at showing it. So he doesn’t talk to you about it, not directly. He instead racks his brain, thinking of every possible way to reduce stress and ways to treat depression. His instinct is to opt for medicine, but he knows he should start smaller first.

“I have a gift for you.” He places it in your hands unceremoniously, trying to hide his delight at your small smile. That’s the most joy you’ve shown in days.

“Thank you, Law! That’s really sweet of you.” You carefully peel back the wrapping paper he had spent far more time than he would admit on, only for your face to show confusion. “A…lamp?”

“A UV lamp.” He says it as though the purpose is obvious.

“Okay?”

“It mimics sunlight.”

You blink at him. “I–you didn’t clarify anything.”

He shifts on his feet, eyes focusing anywhere but you. “We’re down on the seafloor a lot, so you can’t always go on deck for sunlight. And I think some sun will help you.”

Your eyes narrow as you try to put the pieces together. “Why?”

“Sunlight boosts serotonin production.”

You make a soft sound of understanding, before you give him a smirk he would normally hate to admit made his heart skip a beat. “You were worried about me.” You say it like it’s such a victory, like it isn’t something you expected. Clearly he had failed you somehow, if you thought he wasn’t always fretting about you. He typically tries to deny such things, the vulnerability making him feel unsure and small, but you were worth feeling a little weak.

“Of course I was worried about you.” He spits it, like it was so very obvious, and you laugh at him. Normally he would prickle, his defenses growing higher, but that’s the first time he’s heard you laugh in over a week. He would never admit the sound brought a tear to his eye, the relief tearing through him like a hurricane. He can’t help shifting forward, his hands cupping your cheeks as he checks to see if you’ve regained the sparkle in your eyes. It’s dim, but it’s there. He can’t resist kissing you.

You accept his warmth quickly and easily. You practically fall into his arms, nuzzling into his neck when your lips part. “You don’t have to worry. I can handle it. It always passes eventually.”

He sighs, kissing the top of your head. “Just because you can handle it on your own doesn’t mean you have to. You aren’t alone in this. You have me. You have the crew. We’re here for you, whatever you need, whenever you need it.”

Your voice comes out much quieter this time. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

“You aren’t.”

“...You promise you’d tell me if I was?”

He chuckles. “I promise.” He gently takes the lamp out of your hand, places it on your desk, and guides you to your bed. “Now tell me everything you need to get off your chest.”

And, to his relief, you do.

Zoro 

Zoro is blunt. He doesn’t know how to dance around your feelings, and frankly, he doesn’t care to. The faster he breaks through your reluctance to tell him what you need, the faster he can help you, and the faster you’ll be happy.

“Why aren’t you asking for help?”

You jump, not having heard him come in, too busy struggling to ground yourself. “What?”

“Something’s wrong. Why haven’t you come to ask for help?” He’s still dripping with sweat, having just come from a particularly intensive workout that was a failed attempt to distract himself until you finally broke and came to him. He can see you try to avoid his eye, so he gently grabs your chin and steers you toward him. He tries to make his voice gentle, sweet in a way he can never quite nail. “Sweetheart, talk to me. I just want to understand.”

You still avoid looking straight at him, even now, but you finally speak. “I…didn’t want to be a burden.”

He can’t hide his obvious confusion. “Huh?”

You finally look at him, not understanding his reaction. “What?”

“Who cares if you’re a burden for a while?”

You look shocked, “I do!”

“Okay, well no one else does! Everyone is a burden sometimes. No one can do everything on their own. The crew’s job is to help each other.”

“None of you guys have ever been a burden.”

“Were we not a burden, or were you just happy to help?”

You open your mouth to argue again, but he can see the exact moment you realize you really have nothing you can say. You can’t deny helping your crew has sometimes made your life harder. He’s seen it countless times. Your Captain alone has gotten you into dozens of situations you could hardly think about without wincing. But you were always happy to help, and a burden shared is a burden halved.

“Everyone here is happy to help you if you need it. All avoiding us does is make us worry.”

You seem to shrink in on yourself. “I’m sorry.”

He pulls you close, chuckling a little at the discontented noise you make when you realize he’s still sweaty. You squirm halfheartedly, but it doesn’t take long before you snuggle into his warmth. He can feel the muscles in your back slowly start to relax under his hands as you accept his touch. “No need for apologies, sweetheart. Just fix it. Talk about it.”

You hold him tight. “I don’t know exactly what I need. Everything’s just…hard. I don’t remember it always being this hard.”

He tries to ignore the way his heart breaks at how pained you sound. He instead focuses on the positives: you’re here, you’re talking, and you’re willing to accept help if it comes. “It won’t be this hard forever. I’ll be right here to make it a little easier, alright? And you can talk to Chopper for some help, too.”

“...Do you think I should?”

“I think that’s up to you. But we’re here. That’s what matters.”

You spend the rest of the afternoon in Zoro’s arms, and if he sees you sneaking to Chopper’s office later, he doesn’t mention it, though his relieved smile might give him away.

Sanji

Sanji is very in tune with your emotions, often realizing you’re upset before anyone else, and sometimes even before you register it yourself. It’s not uncommon for him to suddenly appear, food and drink in hand, ready to pamper you to your (or, maybe more accurately, his) heart’s content. So you don’t seem to suspect a thing when he starts setting up picnics for you on the deck, each dish carefully prepared to boost serotonin production and the drinks designed to reduce stress and anxiety. You’ve probably had more chamomile tea in the past few weeks than you’ve ever had in your life. 

He sets up the picnic blanket in the perfect location: enough room in the shade for you to rest if you get too hot, but positioned in a way that encourages you to soak up the sun. As you eat, he oh-so-subtly encourages you to talk, maintains skin on skin contact as much as he can, and observes everything he can to improve the next one.

You sit blankly for a while, letting him do as he pleases but not reciprocating, before you finally speak, your voice much flatter than usual. “Sanji?”

“Yes, my love?”

“Why are you doing this?”

He freezes. “Why am I doing what, angel?”

You shift in his arms, forcing him to look you in the eye as you do so. He can’t help but brush a stray crumb off of your cheek, his thumb tracing down to your jaw. You gently catch his hand in your own, squeezing it. “These picnics aren’t just little dates, are they, Sanji? Something is clearly wrong.”

He doesn’t know how to explain he’s worried about you without you feeling pressured to speak. He doesn’t want to push you if you aren’t ready, but he can’t stand to sit by and watch as you drown in your own head. “I–do you have anything you want to talk about?”

“What?”

“You haven’t been yourself lately. I just thought…you could use something like this.”

You seem to relax a bit. “So you’ve been worried about me?”

“Yes. I didn’t want to push you, but you clearly need some help, darling. I was hoping I could make this a bit easier for you.”

You give him a real smile for the first time in a while. “Is this why you’ve been sneaking me so many little treats? And why you’ve been so desperate to keep me away from caffeine?”

He tries not to flush. “I thought you could use a pick-me-up. And I read getting better sleep can help with mood.” He pulls you closer, pressing your face into his neck to hide his redness from you. “I was hoping it’d make talking about whatever’s wrong a little easier for you.”

You snuggle into him, accepting your warmth. “Talking about it is always hard. Everything is, right now.”

“Are you willing to try? I think it might help.”

He can feel your sigh. Your reluctance. But slowly, carefully, you unfurl the tension you’re holding, and you allow him to carry some of your burdens for you. You talk for hours, about everything, including things you were clearly frightened to speak aloud. By the end, you may not be perfectly happy again, but he can see your steps are a little lighter. He’s never been more relieved.

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @saturogojosgirl @dreamcastgirl99 @tochillwithamockingjay

[letorip]

tiny moves

"the tiniest moves you make, the whole damn world shakes"

===+++===

pairing: jenna ortega x reader

summary: after a date night and declarations of love, you and jenna get discovered by the public and feel a bit like kids again

warnings: mentions of sex, mentions of alcohol, running from fans, cursing, still mostly fluff

word count: 1.7k

A/N: this was originally called starfucker but i didn’t like the connotation it was giving the story, so i decided to change it to this title instead, which more clearly illustrates the vibe i was trying to give it. it has smut, which is why that was the original name, but i didn't like that it sounded that way

===+++===

===+++===

"Jenna, no," you say with a groan, pushing gently at her wrist. It's holding up the elastic band of your underwear just below your navel, and she looks up at you from where she straddles your waist, with dark, hungry brown eyes, coupled with a cheeky smirk.

She's asking you a question in the gaze, and though you earnestly consider it for a moment, you shake your head. She frowns but gives up, shrugging and letting go of the band as it snaps back against the sensitive, soft skin there, before flopping down on top of you. "Later, then."

From where you lay down in the car, the streetlight overhead narrowly slips in and casts itself right over your eyes in a single band. You're too exhausted to shift with Jenna's head lying against your shoulder, so instead you raise an arm to cover your eyes, still trying to catch your breath.

"We took off everything but your underwear, you know," Jenna says, gently poking you in the ribs with her finger. At the small jolt the movement sends through your body, you feel her smile against your neck.

"Are you really complaining?" you say, laughing softly with your eyes still covered. At the noise, she lifts her head up from off of you, watching your chest rise and fall and propping her chin up on her palm. When you realise she's gone silent, you pull your arm away, only to find her watching you.

The hunger from earlier has faded- or maybe it still lingers. But now her eyes are soft and warm, flooded by the dim streetlight outside, and you're positive that they might be twinkling. You swallow the lump in your throat. "What're you looking at?"

Jenna shrugs. "Just you...," she admits, looking up at the foggy window and then back down. "Did you like your dinner?"

The question is disarming and far from what you had expected, and you must've let it show on your face, because she rolls her eyes with a fond smile. "What?"

"Nothing, it's just you're asking me about pasta, now."

She shrugs. "I was just thinking we could probably go there again, next week. Maybe I'll take Emma and Joy."

"You're a dork," you laugh, shaking your head at her ability to so suddenly shift moods. Five minutes ago she had been moaning out your name and coming for the third time; now she was planning dinner with your cast mates. "Do you think they know by now?" you ask, raising a hand to gently scratch at an itchy spot on your collarbone that was already starting to bruise with an imprint of her teeth.

Jenna shakes her head. "I don't think so. I mean, we're pretty good at hiding it." She pauses, smirking at you. "Or, at least I am."

"Hey, friends can tell each other they look pretty."

"Every day?" she raises her eyebrows at you.

"Well, if they look pretty every day...,” you imply. Jenna’s eyebrows raise even higher. “But fine, I'll start telling Georgie he looks pretty too, if it makes less obvious."

"(Y/n), baby, I think that would make it more obvious."

"Hm," you hum, putting your arms back and pushing up from the leather seats. You move back to lean up against the interior car door and Jenna follows you, leaning her head against your chest once you settle. "You have that big scene tomorrow, right? With Hunter?"

She nods against you. "That's what Tim said. I think he wanted to move it up the schedule. He wants to get it out of the way before we film the one with you because of CGI stuff. More time to work on it and make it look good, or something. I don't really know why, but he said the stages were super expensive and—"

"—I love you."

It leaves your lips before you can think twice, not that you would anyhow. There's just something about the fire in her eyes when she speaks. The small crinkle in her nose when she's talking about some sort of problem.

It catches her off guard, interrupting her train of thought to leave her with her mouth hanging open in surprise, and you immediately scramble to cover for the silence. "Sorry, you don't have to say it back if you don't want to. I know it's only been a couple months so—”

But she cuts you off with a kiss, reaching up and turning herself around in your lap. Her arms wrap around your neck, pulling herself flush against you, skin to skin, in a messy kiss, and you're left gripping tightly to her thighs, which bracket your waist. Jenna's hand weaves itself into your hair, tangling itself there as she makes no move to pull away or stop for air.

You can feel her lipstick smearing itself against your lips even more than before, and she pulls away for only a moment, before she reconnects with you, the very tip of her tongue meeting yours. You stay like that for a while but it still is not long enough, and she pulls away, leaving you both heaving, and attempting to catch your breath.

"I love you too," she nods against you, placing a kiss on the tip of your nose and then up on your forehead. "You stole my line."

"We can share," you hum against her, feeling your heart flutter in your chest. It's a miracle and a half, and you can remember in your mind just how much you almost refused to be on the show, and just how catastrophic that would have been.

===+++===

Neither of you are entirely sure just how long you sit in the car, but after what you later realise was twenty minutes of just sitting in silence, you both figure it's probably time enough to get home. Jenna clambers off of you, reaching forward to the passenger seat to where you had thrown her underwear and sweatpants.

You hear her groan as you're tugging your own socks on. "What's wrong?" you ask, raising your eyebrows at her in concern. It immediately goes away, when she turns back to you, holding her jumper up.

"Enrique is going to kill me. This is his, I asked to borrow it and you got it all wrinkly when you took it off."

"Sorry," you wince. "You just looked so pretty?" you offer, as a bad attempt at an explanation, and Jenna rolls her eyes at you, shaking her head with a smile.

"Come on, we need to get home," she sighs, looking a bit tired. By 'home' she really means her place. You have a flat of your own too, in the town you're filming in, but you've spent fewer and fewer nights there the more that you and Jenna began to talk. Even though you haven’t officially moved in together, she’s just started calling her place home, and intentional or not, you won’t correct her because that wouldn’t actually be correct.

Once you’re both dressed, you pull open the door of your car, helping her out and closing it behind her. You click the fob on your keys, looking around the car park for other people. It’s quite late, and you’re rather pleased that both the park and the street outside look empty.

Jenna’s walking a few feet in front of you, but with the empty street, you take complete advantage, catching up to her and grabbing her hand. She looks over at you with a worried expression, but it melts away to excitement when she realises no one else is nearby to ruin the moment. She laces her fingers in yours, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

Neither of you are too sure how long you can keep the charade going, or when you'll open up the internet and see you and Jenna on the very cover of some shitty tabloid, but it's nice to have your peace. Most people could just be peacefully in love in public, but for you and Jenna, it would always be a minefield.

You turn the corner with her hand in yours, both of you wearing sunglasses in the middle of the night to hide your faces. But it does nothing to stop the group a few feet away from stopping and staring at you. They're a bunch of teen girls, staring at you and Jenna with their mouths dropped open in immediate recognition, and immediately you see one take out her phone.

"Shit?"

"Shit," Jenna replies with a nod. Before you know what's happened, she's tugging you by the hand, dragging you behind her and breaking out into a gentle run. You follow after her, hearing the girls behind you begin to call out both of your names, but neither of you turn around.

It's a bit funny, and you're laughing as it happens, both out of the insanity of the situation and how fun it feels to run with her and the wind rushing past, and she pulls you into the doorway of her building, punching in the numbers and then grabbing you by the hand again.

You both race up the stairs and through the door, shutting it behind you, laughing like children at the insanity. You know your cover is blown. Someone would probably say something, and by morning those dreaded articles would be run. But you also know that if you were going to announce to the world that you loved anyone, you'd want it to be her.

Jenna giggles against you, leaning against the hallway of her flat to catch her breath. In between a couple of heavy breaths of your own, you whisper, "Do you think they saw us?"

She snorts. "I think it's safe to say so."

"Sorry," you frown. "It was kind of my fault... are you mad?"

But she shakes her head. "Not really. We both knew it would happen eventually. And, well... I love you. So really, what better time is here?"

You pull her gently into a kiss by your hand cupping cheek, holding her until you feel a hand inch towards your waistband again. "Really?" you laugh against her. "Now?"

"I did say later, didn't I?" she smirks.

===+++===

hope you liked it! had a whole bunch of fun and have been sitting on it for a while now, so it was good to finally get it out there!

[emchante]

kinktober | pinned to perfection - d.r.

day 2 - against a wall | kinktober masterlist

summary: after a long, stressful day, daniel’s tension is palpable. when the both of you are finally alone with no distractions, you find yourself pushed up against a wall with daniel pinning you as he takes charge.

WARNINGS: 18+ content, wall sex, rough sex, desperate sex, dom! daniel, teasing, thigh riding.

w.c: 1.7k

a/n: day 2! i had fun working on this one, it's quite the contrast to day 1. let me know your thoughts via reblog, comment or ask, i love hearing from you guys. and i'll see you next week for week 2.

you should have seen it coming. in fact, you sort of had. daniel’s race had ended with yet another dnf– this time through no fault of his own– they said it was an engine failure. you’d watched as the cameras panned to him back in the garage, helmet still on to hide his expression. his shoulders were rigid, his posture tight. even through the screen, you could feel the frustration, the tension. so when you were shoved against the hotel room wall the moment you entered, it didn’t shock you. your hands were firmly pinned against the cold paint, the contrast of its chill and the warmth of daniel’s larger hands was hard to ignore. his right knee slipped between your legs, grazing your clothed cunt in a way that made you shudder– not unexpected, but no less intense.

daniel’s breath was heavy, each exhale brushing against your skin. his eyes looked darker, the usual spark that twinkled in them no longer visible. for a moment, he didn’t move, keeping you pinned against the door. his grip tightened, then loosened, then tightened again, as if he was fighting something within him. he moved his forehead to rest against your own, his dark eyes boring into you. he licked his lips, running his teeth along his bottom lip before speaking up. “i tried,” he muttered, his voice strained. “i tried to hold it together,” he told you, before squeezing his eyes shut. his knee pushed itself up to rub against your core, eliciting a sharp gasp from your lips. his grip on your hands tightened, pushing them further against the wall as he exhaled heavily through his nose. “i need this,” he murmured, opening his eyes to see your reaction. you meekly nodded, though you knew it wasn’t really asking for permission. he knew what he needed, and he was going to get his outlet. without warning, daniel’s lips found yours and took you in for an feverish kiss. his mouth moved against yours with raw intensity, as though words weren’t enough to express his frustrations. his breath came out raggedy through the messy kisses, mingling with yours as he pressed harder, deeper into you. he put all his passion into his actions as words couldn’t describe his current feelings. his left hand released your own from it’s grip, moving to cradle your face. his touch was rough, though slightly trembling as his thumb brushed over your cheekbone, trying to ground himself in your softness. his other fingers wound their way into your hair, pulling you closer to him. he was touching you with such urgency, it was bordering ferality.

his other hand moved to your waist as he pulled you further onto his leg, his thigh pressing more firmly between your legs. you could feel the pressure– hot and insistent– rubbing right against your core. you pulled away from the kiss to whine at the feeling, looking to daniel with a pleading glance. he let out a harsh breath as his grip on you tightened.  “come on then,” he murmured, his voice low. “use it.” it wasn’t an offer, it was a demand, and who were you to say no? not that you had much of a choice anyways. daniel slowly began to rock you against his thigh, setting a slow pace. the friction sent waves of pleasure through you, and a soft whimper escaped your lips. your head moved to rest on daniel’s shoulder, eyes squeezed shut as you moved with daniel’s guide, doing just as he said. it felt so good, but it was tortuous. the pace was so slow, and you just wanted to speed it up. daniel didn’t give you room to stop, keeping your hips moving whether you wanted to co-operate or not. his lips moved against your ear, and you heard the moan he swallowed before whispering, “just like that..”

each grind against his firm thigh sent sparks of pleasure through your body, and you felt yourself growing more desperate as you got more into it. daniel was feeling the same. the muffled whines and whimpers that escaped you each time you rutted against him went right to his cock, and he knew he wasn’t going to be able to hold off for much longer.

he let out another deep sigh, before you felt his lips ghosting the shell of your ear. “you’re doing so well,” he praised lowly, allowing his hand to grip tighter on your waist. he pushed you further into his thigh, forcing you to take in every bit of friction he was able to provide. his voice went higher, a teasing tone mixed in with his murmured “but..” and he let the word hang for a moment. you could feel him smirking against you, and it sent a shiver down your spine. “you want more, don’t you?” you eagerly nodded against his shoulder in response, a shiver running through you at the dark chuckle daniel let out in return. you dug your nails into his back, whining out a small “please.” you were aching for something faster, something harder. and daniel felt it– the way your body was straining against his hold, the way you wanted to take control, to push things forward. he wanted to tease you in return, drag this out just to torture you. but he couldn’t. he needed this more than anyone, and your sweet noises were enough to spur him on. he moved his hand to your head, fingers tangling with your hair as he pulled your head away from his shoulder. his eyes were dark still, to no surprise. but they were filled with something primal.. something fierce. “don’t worry sweetheart,” he breathed out, running his tongue across his lips. “i’m going to give you exactly what you need.”

daniel’s words hung heavy in the air, his breath fanning across your face as he held you there a little longer, your body still pinned between him and the wall. the need in his eyes was more prominent than before, and you could feel the tension radiating between your bodies. without breaking eye contact, daniel’s free hand slid down your body, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of your thigh.

in one swift motion, he hooked your leg around his waist and positioned himself in between your thighs. you could feel his clothed cock, straining against the confines of his clothes. the contact with your core elicited a moan from your lips, breath starting to become shakier as you were getting closer to what you wanted.

with a low growl he smashed his lips onto yours again, taking you in for a heated kiss. your teeth were clashing with his, your breathing was hot and heavy, and your tongues were in a battle for dominance. while your mouths fought with one another, both of daniel’s hands has made their way to the waistband of your bottoms. hooking his fingers in, he pulled the clothing with determined tugs until the bottom half of your body was bare.

you whined as your sensitive clit made contact with his still clothed erection, making daniel pull back from the kiss. his lips curled into a smirk at the reaction, grinding against you just once. he winked afterwards when you groaned at his teasing, huffing at him.

he told you to just wait as he quickly undone his fly, his trousers falling to pool around his ankles as his boxers joined shortly after. his hands returned to your waist, his touch firm as he pressed you harder into the wall. the cool surface against your back was the opposite of what yout front was feeling– the strong heat radiating from daniel’s body. you couldn’t help the way your hips shifted in anticipation, rubbing lightly against daniel.

a low growl escaped daniel as he guided himself to your entrance, teasing your slick folds with the tip of his cock. it was frustrating, having him so close to you, but still so far from what you needed. your breath caught in your throat, a groan escaping you which let daniel know just how desperate you were getting.

as if he read your mind, daniel thrusted into you with one movement, filling you completely. a cry tore from your hips, your head falling back against the wall as the sudden stretch and fullness overwhelmed you.

a deep groan rumbled from daniel’s chest, savouring the feeling of being buried inside you. his grip on you tightened, fingers digging into your skin as he began to move. his pace was steady yet relentless, and each thrust was pushing you further into the wall with every motion.

the sound of yours and daniel’s laboured breathing filled the room, mingling with the strangled moans and wet slap of skin against skin as daniel’s pace increased. his lips made their way to your neck, kissing and sucking on the sensitive skin to leave it red and blotchy. however, his 5 o’clock shadow also contributed to that, as it rubbed against the skin through his kisses.

“fuck..” daniel mumbled against your skin, voice thick with lust. “you feel so good, so tight around me.” his words only spurred you on, your body responding instinctively to the relentless rhythm he set, hips bucking against him as you chased your release.

one of his hands stayed firm on your hip to keep you in place as he fucked you faster, but it didn’t stop the other from trailing its way up your front. he gripped your breast tightly, his thumb brushing over the hardened nipple before pushing into it. he felt you clench around him due to his actions, and he continued to play with your peaked nipple, stimulating it for a while before he switched to your other breast to give it the same treatment.

“come on, sweetheart,” daniel murmured, moving his lips to your ear as he placed a soft kiss on the skin below it. “i can feel how close you are.. let go f’me.”

his words were the final push that you needed, and with one last thrust the tension inside you finally snapped. a high-pitched cry escaped your lips as your orgasm crashed over you. your body was trembling in his arms as you let yourself go, allowing the waves of pleasure to overtake you. daniel wasn’t far behind either, his grip on you tightening as he buried himself deep into you one last time, a guttural moan escaping you as he spilled inside you.

[zriasstuff]

Mercy—Draco Malfoy x reader smut

Warnings: 18+ oneshot (1.7k words), barely any plot; just porn, sub!draco

To the person that requested a Draco Malfoy fanfic like 10 days ago: here it finally is

Draco inhales sharply through his teeth as you go over his bleeding wound with a cotton ball. You had told him a thousand times already to not get into a fight again, yet he just wouldn’t listen and did so nonetheless.

“C'mon they deserved it, you understand right?”, he tried to justify his actions, to which you shook your head in disapproval.

“You can’t just go around acting like a dick and then expect people to clean up after you all the time”, you lecture him, hoping he’ll see his wrongdoings.

“Well for now I got you, don’t I?”, he smugly retorts, hissing along the way as the cotton ball touches his wound again. What a prick he could be sometimes.

“For now”, you warn him sternly. Draco was well aware he’d have to play nice with you, his close friend who genuinely helped him when he needed it.

You, of course, didn't want to enable Draco, but he did show his gratitude in pleasant ways. Ways such as treating you to stuff in Hogsmeade, helping you with homework, sweet talking you to professors, and so on.

Today's wound landed on his lower torso, something he’d gotten from a guy on the Gryffindor quidditch team, whom he insulted as mudblood. Being a pure blood yourself, you were aware of your guys' hate towards muggles, but you didn’t condone it.

Seeing his pained facial expression, pulling all types of grimaces, you say “I know it hurts, but that will only help you to learn your lesson.”

“And what lesson is that? That I have to show less mercy next time?”, Draco stupidly grins when failing to acknowledge his fault.

“Sure, tough guy”, you roll your eyes at him.

Now, he was almost all fixed up and you just had to put a large, squared band aid over his cleaned wound.

As you lean in towards his lower torso, you hear a huffed grunt coming from Draco, who is looking a bit thrown.

“What is it, did I hurt you?”, you ask him.

Draco wasn’t hurt. More so, he was rather feeling something completely opposite.

Innerly, he started replaying the moment in his head of when your tits made the lightest contact with his dick. They had brushed over his groin, when you were leaning in to put the band aid on the wound.

Of course you hadn’t noticed, but he certainly couldn’t forget. His mind was going through all sorts of dirty, nasty, mental images. That one little touch caused all restraint to fly out the window, and all he could think of was how you would look naked, tits uncovered, bouncing in front of him.

How would fuck your tits and afterwards paint them with his cum. The position you were in also allowed you to give him a perfect blowjob. Draco was sitting on a chair and you knelt in front of him because it was the easiest way for you to treat him.

Surely, you wouldn’t have imagined that this position would cause his poor mind to fantasize to such naughty extent.

It became all too much in his head, such a reaction from so little touch. Was he really that horny and desperate? Draco tried to block it out, to not make this weird.

But seeing you like this, having felt you in such a way, simply made you too irresistible.

Draco didn’t even know what got into him, but he bent down promptly, grabbed your ponytail and told you exactly what he wanted- no craved right now.

“Please suck me off right now”, he suddenly muttered in your ear, giving you the most troubled look you’ve ever seen.

“What the fu- what the hell is wrong with you?!”, you exclaim at his words. You couldn’t fully believe what you just heard.

Draco pulls back again, letting go of your ponytail in the process. He seemed slightly ashamed, but you could tell he wouldn’t let go of this easily. Hell, if he played his cards right…

He himself couldn’t even fully grasp why he wanted this so badly all of a sudden. His mind was definitely fucking with him. But with all the stress he was under- being involved with the Death Eaters, and having no way of venting- all he needed was you right now.

“Please, just do it?”, he appeared defeated. You’d never seen him so frantic before.

“Look, I really need this, I need you. You’ll help me with anything, right?”

Needing to come up with a response, you go over all the possibilities in your head. You arrive at a well thought out conclusion seconds later.

“You’ll explain yourself later”, you firstly demand from him. You saw that Draco was completely out of his element, but that’s not why you agreed. Doing this for him would have him at your mercy, maybe you would enjoy holding this over his head later on. Win win, right?

“Ready?”, you coo at him before your hand makes contact with the growing bulge in his pants. Draco winces a little, letting out a relieved moan.

From all the pent up frustration, he desperately needed this. While you stroke around his bulge, he already starts jerking his growing length against your palm. That’s when you give his cock a warning squeeze.

“This isn’t up to you”, you talk down to him. Innerly you loved every second of this. Draco going from harsh and brassy to obedient.

Abruptly, he stops moving, so you carry on with palming his cock until it’s visibly hard through his pants. Here and there a little wince escapes his mouth, wanting immediate pleasure instead of tedious teasing.

After enough playing around, you start to unzip his pants with your mouth. You make sure to glance at him while doing it, just to see how crazy it drives him. His stunned reaction was so worth it.

Every second he relished and wished you would just take him in already. When you remove the last layer of clothing, you’re shocked to see how much bigger he is than you’d ever encountered. From your eyes widening and your mouth gaping slightly, he could tell his size turned you on.

His cock was incredibly hard and leaking drops of precum already from all the teasing, practically aching to be sucked and toyed with.

Your tongue licks a long stripe along his shaft first, which evokes a small whimper from Draco. Instantly he shuts himself up, wanting to control himself, but you want to hear more of those delicious sounds.

So, you keep peppering his cock with kitten licks, especially at his leaking tip. No longer able to hold himself back, Draco fully lets himself go and lets out a breathy whimper.

“Please stop with the teasing already”, he whines after having already endured that much.

Luckily you are feeling generous, so you slide him into your mouth, his big cock disappearing inch by inch. When it glided fully in, it hit the back of your throat, making you gag.

Draco had to forcefully keep his hands on his thighs, otherwise he’d destroy your throat right now. His cock felt so good in your warm, wet mouth. He was amused, seeing you gag from his length.

Not wanting to back out, you ignore your gag reflex. You keep your tongue flat, and start bobbing your head up and down on his cock. Instantly, you feel the saliva running down from the corners of your mouth.

It was messy and sloppy, and the whimpers coming from Draco were heavenly. While trying your hardest to not gag, you continued sucking and twirling your tongue around him like a lollipop. Of course you made sure that his balls didn’t feel left out either. With one free hand you gently massaged them, rolling them in your hand.

Soon enough the stimulation had gotten to Draco. The way you glanced up at him, doe eyed, salivating on cock, awakened some strange feelings in him.

A few more seconds of pure ecstasy, and he started violently bucking his hips, signaling his oncoming orgasm.

More uncontrollable whimpers and curses left his mouth. Finally, you tipped him over the edge when you let his cock hit the back of your throat repeatedly.

His ropes of cum quickly dripped down your throat- shame that you could barely taste it as he was in so deep.

“That was fucking amazing”, he sighs at you, completely out of breath.

With his cock still hanging out, even though it’s soft, you have a fun idea. You spit in your mouth, and as Draco watches, he has no idea what you’re up to.

His eyes widen, when he sees your hand move towards his cock again.

He curses loudly, when you start to pump his shaft. It was absolutely too much for him, especially after he just came.

“Tell me, did you come?”, you ask Draco in a teasing tone. He didn’t answer as he was too focused on the mix of pleasure and pain that was being inflicted on his poor, overused cock.

Completely ignoring the question, you ask it again, yet when there was no answer this time you start pumping him even faster than before. “FUCK”, Draco yelps out, as he clings onto his chair with both hands.

“Earlier when you came in my mouth, did you ask for permission?”. Of course he didn’t, that’s why you asked.

“No”, he whines, looking dazzled. “Stop fucking with me”, he groans, but secretly he enjoyed being messed around with. Maybe that’s what he needed, someone assertive, yet caring.

The agonizing pain was becoming too overpowering second by second.

“Ok, please let me off, I’ll be good next time”, he continues whining in his needy tone.

“Who said there’ll be a next time”, you coo, “and don’t lie, you’re enjoying this”. You continue torturing his cock until he finally can’t take it anymore, twitching uncontrollably in your hand.

As you keep roughly squeezing and pumping his cock, Draco painfully comes a second time. He throws his head back before looking at you again, meanwhile you seductively licked his cum on your hand. In the end, Draco managed to huff out a hoarse “thank you”.

After this blissful experience, Draco would be making sure, that there would in fact be a next time.