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jazzsonly · 11 months ago

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౨ৎ blurb. ౨ৎ

ᴇᴠᴇʀʟᴏɴɢ

pairing(s): chad meeks-martin, mindy meeks-martin x fem!sibling!reader (x tara carpenter.)

warning(s): angst(?) mentions of reader being in fight, mentions of reader having a black eye, arguing, obviously blk!reader, shitty writing, typos—not proofread, mentions of being stabbed—mentions of ghostface attacks, established romantic relationship between reader and tara, mentions of a panic attack, though not specified, reader is 19.

summary: chad and mindy’s, troubled little sister.

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“sit down.” mindy uttered through her gritted teeth as her hand firmly grasps your right shoulder, her nails digging into your skin through the fabric of your faded evil dead shirt as she harshly pushes you down into the couch that was placed in the living room of your girlfriend’s shared apartment.

“look at your face! a black eye?!” you squint at your older sister, giving her scornful eyes that she definitely didn’t miss.

“what?” she pauses. “you have something to say to me? say it.”

“i’m not a child, mindy—”

“then act like it!” her hands throw up exclaiming frustration before falling back down to her side in a, rightful, dramatic manner.

“you won’t even hear me out! why is it always my fault?”

this time her eyes squint at you, not in angry or frustration but in astonishment. “because it just is, y/n. every week it’s the same thing with you and i won’t deal with it anymore.”

she won’t deal with it anymore? what does that mean? was she sending you back to woodsboro?

letting your teeth sink into your bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood from the cut you had got from a previous fight earlier this week; you watched as the girl paced back and forth, her hands firmly on her hips and her breathing uneven. she was clearly stressed—or maybe even something more than stressed.

but chad wouldn’t let her do that, would he? he wouldn’t send you away?

“not only did we agree but we helped you convince mom and dad to let you come to new york with us, we convinced them that we’d look after you and make sure you finished high school.”

“all while we promised we’d go to college, but every week either me or chad has to leave class early because you got into trouble—and you don’t even care!”

“not once have yo—”

the apartment’s door’s locks clicked and it creaked open, revealing chad with sam and tara who appeared by his side.

“hey, i got here as—”

“what happened to your face?” chad was cut off by tara, who rushed over to you, crouching down in front of you and cupping your bruised face.

“‘s nothing tar.” you pull away from the girl’s touch is a resentful manner, still very high in emotion from mindy’s scolding.

“it’s nothing? dude, half of your face is bruised.” chad spoke up as he stepped by mindy’s side, arms crossed.

sam wallowed in the back, not sure if she had the right to say much in this situation. (which, according to mindy and chad she had the right to scold you whenever, maybe even more than them at times.)

“i had to defend myself, so what?” you shrug, a plastic nonchalant aura rolling off you with a very loud hint of anger.

“every week?” tara asks in dismay, hating to see this site get worse and worse.

you shrug again.

“i can’t with you right now.” tara threw her hands up, moving away from you, not wasting any time to make her way to the hallway that led to her room.

“then don’t! i don’t wanna deal with any of you right now! you don’t listen to me, you act like you’ve never had to defend yourself—you act like i haven’t gone through what you’ve gone through!”

you stand up in haste from the spot mindy had forced you into.

“fighting a literal serial killer and fighting some scrawny girl at school are two different things, y/n!” mindy broke down her words in a belittling manner.

sam now too had disappeared to her room, giving you three privacy though you could be heard through the walls. (thank god quinn wasn’t here, she would’ve got a kick from eavesdropping.)

“why can’t you channel this energy into something important? like soccer—oh, wait you got kicked off the team for what? fighting!”

chad eyes mindy, deciding to step into the conversation, knowing the nerve that could’ve hit for you as you had drunkenly expressed just how much it hurt you to get booted from the team you had worked so hard to be on, even planned to play in college when you had the chance.

“look, what mindy is trying to say is: we care about you, y/n—you’re our sister but you can’t keep doing this…you aren’t just hurting yourself but us too.”

“and tara,” chad points towards the girl’s whereabouts.

“even sam.”

“how does it hurt you all, if i fight someone?”

i had to skip class two days in a row for you. chad though but failed to vocalize, viewing it as pointless.

“…mindy and i have been talking, and thinking a lot.”

you heart beat began to pick up, a swirl of a holeless pit formed in your stomach at the long pause in chad’s words.

“we think you should go back to woodsboro.”

your illogical anger has flushed away in mere seconds after the words hit your ears, immediately you became their little sister again.

“no, i—look, i won’t fight anymore—i’ll—i’ll go to the stupid therapy with you guys!”

you watched as chad eyed mindy, him believing in your words while she held a faithless look, knowing, even if you were her little sister there was little to no truth to your words.

hell, even you knew there was little to no truth to your words. but you were just a kid, even if you were just a year younger than them—it scared you, it scared every single second that ghostface could be back.

you could be stabbed again, in the hospital room right beside your girlfriend, in physical pain on your own and in mental pain, not knowing if the people you love most in this world were even going to make it.

you weren’t even sure if you were going to make it.

these things, these emotions and thoughts formed a livid storm in you like no other.

you’re just a teenager, and like any other teenager you assume you’re strong—you don’t need any type of therapy, where you talk about your feelings and any of dumb shit, shit just to bring the memories back.

you beat it physically on your own, so you can beat it mentally on your own.

but you couldn’t be more wrong, your troubled day to day be proof of this.

this very moment, the fear that rang through your body being proof of it too.

“please. i can’t—” your knees bulk causing you to drop back down to the couch, a slight dizzy feeling taking over your head, an enclosure taking over your chest.

a panic attack forming that you were all too familiar with, battling them alone in your room—too prideful to talk to anyone, well, minus tara who had helped you through a few.

“y/n? what’s wrong? breathe.” your siblings instantly by your side.

they don’t miss the look in your eyes, almost as if they were foreign too and you couldn’t understand what was going on.

“i think she’s having a panic attack.” chad notes, his hand resting on your shoulder.

“uh, what do we do? what—”

you flutter your eyes, managing to utter out a name.

“tar—tara.”

“tara—tara? get tara!” mindy orders chad, who is quick on his feet.

“just breathe, y/n. it’s okay. i’m here. chad’s here, and tara’s here. it’s all alright.” mindy’s harsh tone had broken down to a soft one, the same one she would use when you were kids and chad would make you cry by breaking one of your toys, and the same one she used when you were in the hospital bed after being attacked by ghostface.

“baby? what’s wrong?” tara crouches down in front of you, like when she first came in the door, this time in a haste to comfort you instead of worrisome about your bruises.

“i—i’m sorry.” you grasp her wrist as her hands settle on either side of your face.

“it’s okay. you don’t need to be sorry, i’m not mad at you. neither are chad and mindy.”

the carpenter eyes them, getting them to shake their head in support.

“we’re all just a little stressed out, okay? that doesn’t mean we’re mad at you.”

“i love you, breathe for me.” you shake your head, following the breathing guidelines she were displaying for you.

“she’s calming down.” tara assures the twins.

“come on,” tara stands, holding out here hand for you to take.

“let’s get you cleaned up and then we can lay down, yeah?”

“but—”

“you can talk with chad and mindy later, come on, i know you want some cuddles.” tara teases in a joking manner, attempting to lighten the mood.

mindy taking note of the comment, being sure to tease you about ‘wanting cuddles’ later.

━━━ 👩🏽‍💻 i would love to write an actual story based off this but i have no real ideas, if you guys have any send em my way 👀

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nathandrakeisabottom · 1 year ago

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Headcannons about them with an anxious SO? Love your stuff x

Thank you, friend! Now, in full canonical honesty, I don’t believe that either Nathan or Sam would be particularly good at dealing with their deeper anxiety, let alone someone else’s, let alone someone else’s who they loved dearly and would only be afraid to make it worse (that many crumbling bridges and a guy’s gotta if consider his only superpower is the ability to destroy everything he touches) for most of their young lives.

However, I do believe that post-UC4 (perhaps a little earlier for Nathan), and a good dose of necessary therapy (paid for in pirate coins, of course)--- they’d be more than willing to finally take on the challenge.

For themselves, and for the person they love more than anything.

Drakes with an Anxious S/O Headcanons

Nathan:

In his younger days, the prince of the awkward smile and half-hearted clap on the back. A pulley doll whose only catchphrases were “Man, that’s hard”, “Yeah. Yeesh.”, and “Soooo, I guess this would be a bad time for a joke, huh?”. Scurries to the bathroom as soon as they’re not in tears anymore, and stays there for as long as it takes to stop hearing the residual sobs.

However, his late 30s and 40s bring him a much healthier perspective (and therapy— Jesus, finally) and being the smarty pants he is, he passes on no opportunity to put his new skills and knowledge to use.

That playfulness and desire to find the lightness in even the hardest situations never leaves him at any age, though.

A panic attack? “‘Is something… wrong with you’? You realize you’re talking to the guy who accidentally destroys ancient temples for a living, as an archaeologist? And I still consider myself a not so bad guy. So in my eyes, you’re basically a lesser known Mesopotamian god.”

Got a bad grade? “A D in Psychometrics? I don’t know, sounds like they don’t know anything about math if they’re using a letter to grade you. Maybe they should go get their teaching certificates checked. Hey, how ‘bout I just draw you a PhD myself? You know I have an eye for art.”

Dealing with shitty parents? Landlord? Roommates? Exes who won’t leave you the fuck alone? “What? That buffoon? Guy who can’t even spell their own name right? That asshole isn’t worth a thought of a thought of a thought in your head. Pretty sure they haven’t had a thought in their own head since 1996.”

As soon as the first wide-toothed smile is won, he’s leaning into his partner with a secretive smirk: “Ya wanna get the hell out of here?”

Because distractions always helped him before.

Will act especially gentlemanly, and theatrically play it up, while taking their partner for a frozen yogurt, antique shop, Target trip, public park, laser tag (yes, really) decompress. Bows when he opens the car door for them. Pays for everything. Calls them ‘your majesty’ for the entirety of the excursion.

All he wants is to get them to smile. And he’s not stopping until he sees it.

When the night creeps in and his S/O starts to lose steam, Nathan’s own worry grows more obvious, though he tries his best to keep it to himself.

Watches them with wide eyes. Gives them space, but still asks every few minutes if they need a cup of water. No? Tea? Arnold Palmer? Popsicle? Massage? Hot Pocket? Sexy pillow fight? However many it takes to make his partner laugh again. But he fully means every offer he gives.

Says nothing as he helps them undress and into their PJs. Touches are tender and intimate, gently rubs their shoulders and neck. Never too hard, never too direct. Plays the friendly ghost and lets their partner take the lead, but never, ever just sits around to watch.

Makes them a beverage of some sort, even if they say no. Hot lemonade with honey is his personal homecure. Says yellow is a happy color, so it must be good for you.

And right before they turn the lights out, Nate timidly offers— with a shy, trying chuckle— if they want him to read them a bedtime story.

Somehow shocked every time they say yes. Mumbles something self-derogatory about himself (“Ya know, not the best actor, but—” “Personally I think I have the voice of a dying goose, but—”) before sitting on the nearest surface and cracking open a book.

If he’s still feeling a little awkward, will uneasily ask if they wanna hear what he’s been reading lately, and will do so if asked— but really wants to read the pirate storybooks his mother read to him and Sam when they were kids.

It always made him feel better when the world felt too big, too scary, too cruel.

So he wants to share it with the person he loves.

He wants to share everything with the person he loves.

And without even asking, goes to the medicine cabinet and brings them a tablet of whatever they need when the anxiety gets especially bad, and says “I know, it’s scary. But we’ve been through scary before, right?” with a kiss on the cheek as they swallow it down with a sip of lemonade.

Lingers, eyes down, and vaguely nods to nobody as he stands and walks to the door.

“Want me… uh, want me to keep reading to you?” But he offers before he can even get past the door frame.

“Do you want me to want you to keep reading to me?”

And the last thing he wants to see is his love, alone. The idea of them crying beneath the covers because they were too afraid to burden him with it, too afraid to be seen. Everything he felt he had to do when he was 6 and his mother “passed”, age 9, 10, 11, 12 after a black eye, the words that his brain told him wrong: spoken aloud by the playground bullies he feared he’d never be stronger than.

But he knew they were wrong. The bullies were wrong. The ones in his brain. The ones in theirs.

“Yes.” He replies without missing a beat.

And he makes sure to hold their hand in his free one until the second they fall asleep… and a few hours after, just to be safe.

The next morning they fucking better expect breakfast in bed— and he maybe, just maybe, might even be willing to spring for McDonald’s, if that’s what they want. As long as they promise to eat actual fruit after. And hell, maybe even a vegetable or two when he makes dinner that night. Did you know that eating right and exercise are actually primary solutions to poor mental health—? That’s what Dr. Dorian said— No, potatoes don’t count as a vegetable— no, especially not if it’s fried— NO, FRENCH FRIES DON’T COUNT, BABY—

Sam:

Sam takes a bit longer to warm up to discussing anxiety than Nathan does, mostly due to struggling so deeply with it on his own. It’s not like prisoners (or Shoreline guards) made the most comforting companions.

The better he could keep secrets, the less he could reveal, the safer he’d be.

So it makes sense that it’s both his greatest strength and weakness when it comes to emotionally turbulent times.

In his younger, more avoidant years, he’d be the first to leave the room, leave the building, hell, sometimes even leave the city after a particularly heavy cry or confrontation with his then-partner. Only to come back the next morning and act like nothing ever happened.

But now, he doesn’t run. After prison, after Rafe, after Madagascar, all he wants is to be allowed to stay. To be wanted to stay by someone who loves him.

Is happiest to just sit with you in the silence. His biggest skill is his ability to weather the storm. And whether you need to scream bloody murder, or need to sit and decompress and just fucking feel, but can’t do it alone, Sam’s there. Listening.

Once you’re done talking, he takes one last, long drag of his cigarette, stubs it out onto the pavement, and asks simply: “So do you want solutions… or something else, sweet’art?”

You can see in his eyes— darting less than solid, certain against your own— that he really means it, in every way that he was too afraid to when he was younger.

The wonderful and terrifying thing about having anxiety while Sam is there is that it’s a vulnerable experience for the both of you. He’s learning, discovering, trying right along with you. And he may not be able to lift you up so easily, but he’ll be able to sink into the dark places with you, and not be afraid to see what’s down there.

And maybe seeing someone he loves so deeply, sees as so beautiful, so smart, so kind, so wonderful, so absolutely perfect to him feel the same ways he does about himself… maybe it makes him think that he’s not as terrible as his brain tells him, either.

Helps you take action by letting himself (finally) not be the smart one: “When ya… get like this, what do you usually do first, sweet’art? Paint me a pit’chure.” Gives you complete control, and smiles softly when you wipe your tears and the logical, the archaeological mind awakens. Mimics unraveling an ancient map when you begin to explain, and you inadvertently hiccup out a laugh.

At times, it’ll feel like he’s trying to run again, but when he stands up and walks across the room— he always returns. This time with your favorite of his jackets, the denim one that smells like him even though he just cleaned it, and drapes it protectively over your shoulders. Clasps his palm at the back of your neck and rubs out the knot he always finds there. Smiles toothy and wide when your words are broken up by sighs of relief. Only to be filled once again with silence, gazes meeting sweet and safe.

“Remember Indonesia?” He offers with a smirk, despite your furrowed brow.

“I guess? What about—?”

“I read the runes’ instructions and ran us in circles all around Bali, only to reread the transcript and realized I got three letters completely wrong. J—V—A. Java. It was goddamn Java the entire time.”

“Your point being?”

He smiles and shrugs. Trying. Maybe he’s wrong, a foreigner in some ancient, uncertain land, but he tries.

“Sometimes our brains are just wrong.” He tries for you. “That’s all.”

You sniffle, and he leans in to press a prickly kiss to your cheek. His jacket is still warm from the dryer, wafting with the residual sting of cigarette, Old Spice Captain, cheap mouthwash, even cheaper aftershave, and something else completely unnameable.

And maybe some others would think the scent appalling, but it’s the strangeness, the specificity, and yes, the stank— everything that makes Sam him— that makes you love it. Love him. The depth. The difference.

The pain, and what he chose to do with it.

Another kiss, this time down your neck. This time, the sigh of relief is his own.

What he chose to change it into.

“So… any chance sex therapy might be a thing?” He asks grinningly.

“Why don’t we find out, ‘sweet’art’?”

#uncharted #uncharted 4: a thief's end #nathan drake #sam drake #nathan drake x reader #sam drake x reader #happy christmas yall!!!#and for those are yall who struggle today. you arent alone #feel free to jump into my inbox and geek out with me #sometimes family is just someone you share blood with #and that's allowed to be it #shea out

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poopwons · 1 year ago

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Thinking about Artist!Jean being just the SWEETEST boyfriend when his girl isn’t feeling herself. 😭😭

Modern Au, Fluff, fem reader, No use of y/n, this is purely self indulgent, and my first ever fic I’m actually posting, sorry if it’s bad writing 💀

TW: anxious thoughts, insecurities, reader doesn’t feel good enough, I think that’s all??

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You come into the apartment in a huff, putting your things down and going to the fridge to get some water.

“Hey,” Jean starts, as he walks into the kitchen from his studio down the hall, before he stops and takes in your expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Just had a bad day,” you say, not really wanting to go into all of it, all your insecurities and the anxiety you’ve dealt with throughout today.

None of your clothes fit the way you wanted them to, making you feel like nothing you put on looked even remotely good. You were sporting an acne break out from stress? Hormones? Who fucking knows, but it’s annoying. The fact that in every window you walked by today, you saw your reflection and just felt…not pretty enough. And you do all of the things your therapist recommends when you’re feeling low like this, you’ve been working out, eating right, trying to drink more water. Not to mention the affirmations you had scribbled on your mirror in the bathroom. But some days, the irrational side of your brain wins out. Today you could not see past any of the things you don’t like about yourself. You weren’t able to view the whole picture and instead focused on the small flaws. Even going to lunch with your friends was discouraging, watching them all sport smiles and feel confident in themselves. It seemed effortless for them. And nothing ever felt effortless for you. You felt like you had to work so hard to even feel some semblance of the confidence your friends exude daily.

“What happened?” Jean asks, coming around the counter, wrapping his big arms around you pressing a kiss to the top of your head before moving down to your lips. “Do I need to beat somebody up?”

“Not unless you wanna beat up your own girlfriend.”

“Mm. That kind of bad day, huh?” He says softly, tilting your head to look at him before he kisses you again.

Jean knows about your struggles, you’ve been together for a while now, so it would have been impossible for him not to notice. He tries to do the most for you when it gets like this. He knows you can’t help it, that it tends to come in waves. You’ve been stressed at work lately and that usually bleeds into your anxiety.

“Come here, Pretty.” He says, pulling you by your hand to lead you to the couch, sitting you down and getting the blanket off the back to wrap it around you. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.” He turns to go back to his studio, but not before turning on your usual comfort show for you.

He comes back into the living room and sits down with you, sketchbook and pencil in hand.

“You don’t have to work out here.. I know you have a deadline.” You say softly from your spot on the couch, not wanting to distract him from his work just because you had a bad day.

“I got that piece done already, this is something different. It’s not work, so I’m gonna sit with you. Besides, I haven’t seen you all day.” He says leaning over to press another quick kiss to your lips, before leaning with his back on the arm of the couch, knees up with his sketch book pressed to them.

It’s pretty normal for Jean to draw in his free time when he’s not working on commissions for clients. It’s his chance to work on stuff he actually likes and lets him get more creative without the constraints of a clients wishes. You turn your attention back to the show, finding comfort in this cute little routine you two have. The warmth of his body next to yours while he scribbles on his page, the faint sound of the pencil scratching the paper, when the two of you get time like this everything else in the world kind of drowns out.

While half your brain is still going on and on about the ways you’re not good enough and ways you could improve, you try to focus on the show, trying to ignore all those other thoughts. You laugh at a part you’ve seen probably a hundred times, but you still find it just as funny as the first time. You glance over at Jean who’s smiling down at his paper, his eyes flitting between the tv and the paper. He doesn’t normally show you his free time stuff until it’s finished, so you don’t bother asking him what he’s working on, knowing that you’ll find out eventually.

The two of you sit like that for a couple hours, just enjoying being in each others company, chatting idly about the show and some stuff the two of you have going on over the weekend. After a few more moments, Jean shifts again, sitting closer to you, his sketch book splayed open to the page he was working on as he puts his arm around you. When you finally glance down at it, a look of surprise spreads across your face.

“Is that..me?” You ask softly, taking the book in your hands to examine the drawing further.

Jean simply nods, offering you a small mumble of affirmation with a little grin on his lips. As you look over the paper you see how he’s drawn you, plush lips turned up into a wide grin, you’re laughing. Your eyes are bright and you look..happy, your hair is in beautiful waves, no frizz in sight. There’s another small drawing in the corner of the page, it looks like he’s just drawn your eyes alone, shining and bright. It hits you then that when he lifted his head up from the page earlier, he hadn’t been watching the tv, he’d been looking at you.

Taking the book you look at the front cover and realize that this isn’t his usual sketch book. You flip to the front of the book and go through the pages, as you flip through it you have to fight back the tears that well in your eyes. Every page, is filled with you, sketches, drawings, some with color some without. Some pages are just studies of your features where he was trying to get your smile right, or your eyes. Some of them are full body drawings, and you recognize your own clothes, days when you’d send him selfies of your outfits with a big happy smile.

You look over at him with a soft smile, “what is this?”

He leans over and presses a kiss to your temple. “It’s you, baby. Whenever I’m having an art block or can’t think of what I want to draw, I just..draw you.”

“You drew me so pretty..”

“You are pretty. More than pretty.” He says, leaning into you to press another kiss to your temple, resting his head against yours. “Most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I thought about it when you came home and said you felt bad, that I wished you could see yourself the way I do. I thought, maybe I should just show you.”

You continue flipping through the pages, they aren’t all happy drawings. Some of them are clearly from some times when you weren’t feeling your best, but even in the ones where you have a sad expression, or tears in your eyes, he still drew you beautifully. Even when you felt your worst he still thought you were beautiful.

“Thank you…for this.” You say softly, turning towards him to softly kiss his lips, setting the sketchbook down on the table and pulling yourself into his lap to wrap your arms around him.

“Just drawing what I see, nothing else.” He murmurs as he buries his face into your neck, pressing a kiss there before holding you tightly.

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✨I want this man so bad, that is all.✨

Thanks for reading!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰

#jean kirstein #jean x reader #aot fanfiction #fanfic #aot x you #jean x y/n #jean x you #aot headcanons #jean kirschtein headcanons #jean kirschtein fluff #jean kirschstein x reader #aot fluff

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pinkipeachiikeen · 2 years ago

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The Intruder (Osamu x F!Reader Crack fic) (Featuring Atsumu Miya)

This was supposed to be a part of a larger story but I then realized that the only part of the story that I liked was this part so.. Enjoy!

Quick summary since this one is short: What do you get when you have a heavy sleeper, a twin brother with boundary issues and a sleep deprived, caffine high college student with a broom?

Chaos.

Complete and utter chaos.

WC: 2,090

Story below the cut!

Content warnings: Swearing and Violence with broom from a over caffinated y/n, VERY BRIEF mentions of creepy neighbors and serial killers. But seriously, its a crack fic yall. Have fun.

Osamu has always been a heavy sleeper. He always saw that as one of the ways the gods compensated him for cursing him with the snoring bear he has for a twin brother. That or he’s just grown accustomed to sleeping in the roughest of places, whether it be the bunk under Atsumu or on a rocky bus ride with 10+ teenage boys. His sleeping habits haven’t been a problem since he was eleven and Atusmu decided to draw on his face with colorful sharpies. Let's just say Atsumu was afraid to sleep for the next week and a half, while Osamu slept like a baby. The decadcade+ since then has been nothing but peaceful sleeping,

Well, until now, that is.

He vaguely remembers being shaken, but he didn’t really think it was anything to interrupt his beauty sleep over. He kind of just wrote it off as unimportant or maybe he possibly even dreamt it.

But those screams and grunts from his living room were definitely real and not dreamt.

Osamu bolted out of bed and sped out to the living room, flicking on the light to find….

You, his lovely roommate of a few months in your favorite pikachu onesie, the one you showcased to him before he went to bed, declaring it your new favorite study tool since it's ‘comfy enough to cram in without passing out!’ before chugging at least two monster energies. He expected you to be asleep by now, but it wouldn’t be the first time you pulled an all nighter studying. He learned the hard way to leave you alone when you get in your studying binges after you quickly snapped at him after he asked a simple ‘hey you good?’. You apologized later with some snacks, but he definitely learned his lesson. What he didn’t expect was his twin brother being there as well. It wouldn’t be too odd, since his brother drops by unannounced from time to time using the key under the mat to crash whenever he’s in town (despite his complaints about it) , except for the fact that

… you were beating him.

With a broomstick.

“What the hell is going on here?!” He bellows.

The both of you freeze, looking like you’ve both been caught with your hands in the cookie jar. A subtle wave of nostalgia passed through him, the scene reminding him of when their mother would catch them fighting over their nintendo when they were both supposed to be asleep. Osamu never thought he would feel like the mother in that situation, especially at the ripe age of 24, with two adults the same age as him on the other end, and half expected you to say ‘it's all his fault!’ or ‘he started it!’

What he wasn’t expecting was “Why are there two of you?!”

Illusion shattered. “Huh?”

Atsumu uses your confusion to his advantage and snatches the broomstick out of your hands. “Aha!” he cheers. “Try hitting me now bitch!”

You look at your hands, in all your sleep deprived glory, just now processing the lack of your (makeshift) weapon, then shrug, pulling your first back causing the onesie sleeve to slip down your shoulders

“ahtahat!,” Osamu chants, pulling your arm back like a mother telling their toddler ‘forks don’t go into the electrical socket’ “As funny as it would be to watch my brother get his ass kicked by pikachu I really don’t wanna tend to your injuries at two-something in the morning and you don’t need to get injured before that big test of yours.” He shares, creating some distance between you two. You murmur in agreement as Atsumu deflates from his defensive stance. “She’s really not this violent at all.” he reveals, trying to placate the situation. “A real ‘save the spiders, don’t squish them’ type of person, y’know?.”

“Yeah, tell that to the broomstick shapes welts on my body!” he retorts. “You need to get your side piece a leash, goddamn.”

“Excuse me?!’ You shove past Osamu to look at the bleach blonde double. “Bitch I live here, and I ain’t no one's side piece. I don’t care whose face you have, don’t sneak into my apartment if you don’t wanna get whacked asshole!”

“And you!” you turn to point to Osamu. “Since when do you have a twin brother?!”

“Since when did you start rooming with a girl?” his brother pipes in.

Osamu looks at you with wide eyes. “What? Slow down.” he rubs his forehead. “It's too early for this.” he mutters. “Atsumu, Y/n has been my roommate for like four months now, Y/n I told you I had a brother before. I complain about him 24/7 and there's a photo of us together hanging up at Onigiri Miya.”

“Wait-” Atsumu cuts in,turning to you. “How do you know my brother's face and not mine? I’m literally famous.” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.“Atsumu Miya? The setter for the MSBY Black Jackals?”

You shake your head. “Dude, I get winded going up the stairs, there's no way i'm interested in sports outside of the occasional gay anime, thank you.”

Atsumu looked absolutely appalled as Osamu covers a laugh with a cough. “And you mister!” you point at him. “First, you complain about your brother like he’s a prepubescent tweenager, I thought he was still in middle school, not grown.”

Atsumus mouth only widens in offense and disbelief.

“Second, I go to Onigiri Miya to eat, pick up food to eat, or to help clean occasionally. I don’t look around.”

Atsumu pouts. “Just what have you been saying about me?”

“Oh no, I'm not done with you, bleach blonde!” Atsumu fiddles with his ends in defense. “I don’t care how big of a deal you are in the sports world, you don’t have the right to sneak in unannounced in the middle of the night!”

“I didn’t know he had a roommate!”

“Doesn’t matter! Still rude AF. I thought you were a serial killer or something.” you retort.

“So, you think there's a potential serial killer, so your first thought is to grab the broom.” Osamu says slowly.

Your face reddens. “W-well I wasn’t just gonna do nothin!”

“But a broom?”

“Y’know what? I haven’t slept in 38 hours, and the only things keeping me up are the ungodly amount of caffeine I ingested, true crime podcasts, and the blessing of whatever god is taking pity on my grades right now. Rational thinking has vacated the building hours ago. Y’all are just lucky I didn’t grab a knife!” You almost whisper shout- which Osamu learned from his mother is scarier from a woman then any screaming can be. Shouting is just irritation, or frustration, but whisper–shouting? Nothing made the twins straighten up quicker.

“I, for one and VERY grateful, thank you very much.” He quickly adds. “In my recent first hand experience, being whacked with a broom is very painful and can put the fear of god into any intruder.” he reveals.

“See?” you point. “Besides! Going straight to the broom was not my intention. I tried waking you up first since you are built like a dorrito, with fuckin’ cantolope arms and I very much am not.” you wave your hand up and down your body, showcasing the Pikachu onesie and unknowingly, part of your sports bra. Osamu tilts his head away guiltily once his eyes land there, catching his(now smug) brother's attention. “But I learned that if there ever was a fire that your ass would be getting left because you might as well have been in a coma! If there wasn’t a strange man trying to unlock the door I would’ve checked your pulse!” You share before pausing. “Wait a damn minute, Atsumu, do you have a personal key?”

Atsumu shakes his head. “I just used the one under the mat..” he muttered.

“The WHAT!” you shout, causing the twins to step back and Osamu to start mentally writing the apology letter to the neighbors.

“Osamu,” you take a deep breath in, lowering your voice. “ Why oh why is there a key under the mat?!” you seethe.

“I- uh- I was tired of Atsumu blowing up my phone trying to get in, and I thought it would be nice to have if I ever forget my keys at the restaurant?” He replied, almost like he was asking a question himself.

You blinked. Once, twice, three times.

Shit. I’m really in for it. He thinks.

“Did it ever, yknow,” you start. “Cross your mind,” your face tightens. “That your car keys are also attached to your keyring? So you wouldn’t have the possibility of leaving the restaurant in the first place? Or maybe you could just give Atsumu a key?”

“..But then he’d use the key to sneak in whenever he wanted.” he murmurs, regretting it almost instantly.

“YES, CAUSE THAT'S BETTER THAN SOME RANDOM ASS MAN SNEAKING IN WHENEVER THEY WANTED!”

Both men physically recoil but you continue. “Oh, I know for a fact that the creepy dude upstairs would love to creep around my room and use my toothbrush when I'm away. He’s always a bit too willing to help me carry my laundry.”

Osamu's eyebrows furrowed in confusion before giving a deep sigh. No doubt, she’s been listening to too much true crime. He thought “I’mma regret asking, but why would our upstairs neighbor wanna use your toothbrush?”

You shrug. “Dunno, ask the creep that got off on using my best friend's toothbrush for weeks. Pro tip, never live above a bar. Especially in a college town.” you share. Huh. Not the answer I was expecting.

“But thats!” you sigh deflating. Huh. I guess the caffeine is wearing off. “That’s beside the point. Atsumu,” you turn to him, much more calmly than before, “I would say I'm sorry for beating you with the broom, but that was totally on you.” Atsumu frowns at the non-apology. “If you want to crash here, fine, but let someone know beforehand? It had to have been months since you last crashed since it was before I moved in, Osamu could’ve easily thought you were an intruder too. Showing up here uninvited and out of the blue is both rude and problematic, even if he’s your twin brother.” Atsumu nods in agreement, shly looking at the ground like he just got a ‘stern talking to’ from Ma. “Now let's get you some frozen peas for that bruise.” you say, clapping your hands together before making your way to the kitchen.

As you look through the freezer for frozen produce Osamu takes a minute to process what the hell just happened. He always knew he would have to introduce the two of you at some point, but he never thought in a million years it would end up like that.

“And Samu,” you call while handing the frozen peas wrapped in a paper towel to Atsumu. “If I find a key to our apartment under the doormat again, I will change the locks and leave your ass outside to freeze in the hallway. You’re gonna be the one crashing at your brothers. Understood?” You threaten.

He nods quickly. “Yes, maam.”

You give a small smile. “Good. Now if that's settled I'mma attempt to get some sleep before my test, which is in,” you look at the stove clock. “Five hours. Great.” you grimace.

“I '’’m sorry!” Atsumu apologizes sheepishly. “Is there anything i could do to apologize?”

You ponder before sporting a wicked grin. Osamu knows that look all too well, and it never seems to mean anything good for him. “Well, tonight is movie night. Every friday Osamu stay in and watch a movie or two, usually shitty ones that we just roast. You are invited if you buy snacks.” the smirk widens. “Plus, I wanna hear all the embarrassing stories you have about ‘Samu only a twin would know.”

“And there it is.” Osamu mutters as you giggle.

“Ill see you there, kay?” You said before (finally) clocking out for the night, leaving the twins in silence for teh first time since Atsumus arrival.

“So..” Atsumu starts. “She’s cute.”

“Don’t even start.” he states dryly.

“C’mon, I saw the way you checked them out!”

Osamu shakes his head, trying to fend off the blush taking oover his cheeks “I was just trying to be respectful!”

Atsumus shit eating grin only grows. “Sure, Mr. ‘Built-like-a-dorrito-with-cantolope-arms. Keep tellin’ yourself that.”

Needless to say, Atsumu ended up with several more (non-broomstick shaped) bruises that night.

#Osamu x reader #osamu x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #Osamu Miya #hq fanfic #miya osamu x reader

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alix-is-o-a-k · 1 year ago

Note

alix!! fluff fics are always a nice start, and I’ve had painting my room on my mind. you could get the nark boys painting nick’s earth-apartment? lark started painting when mercedes got him into art therapy (henry suggested it to merc, but yk how lark is) and does little flowers on the baseboards, maybe?

anywho, best of luck with posting fics!! I’ll be sure to hype you up :)

ASBSINSOA THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! This was soooo fun to write! (Went a little longer than I meant it to lol)

“Lark? What’re you doing here?”

Nick’s standing in the open doorway of his new apartment. He’s wearing black shorts and a loose grey tank, both splattered with dark red paint that could be mistaken for blood from some distance.

“Uh.. sparrow told me you were painting your apartment and I figured- do you want some help?”

“Yes.”

Nick opens the door wider and steps back to let Lark in. Splattered on the walls in uneven brush strokes are streaks of the same red paint on his clothing. The color’s dripping from the walls onto the floor.

“Nicky, what the hell is this?”

Nick’s face goes red and he scratches at the back of his head. “I… can’t paint. You know that.”

“Nick, this is an absolute disaster- were you seriously not planning to get anyone to help you?” Lark looks at him incredulously.

“I thought I could do it! And you’re here anyway!”

“Luckily for you,” Lark grumbles, picking up one of the abandoned paint brushes on the floor “let’s get started.”

Nick picks up the second brush and follows Lark’s lead, bringing the brush down in even strokes along the walls. They’re finished with the first in half the time it would have taken Nick, and Lark puts his brush down with a sigh, running a paint-covered hand through his hair and smearing the color into the brown strands. Nick laughs and Lark looks at him questioningly.

“What?”

“Nothing- just, your hair.”

“What’s wrong with my hair?”

“You’ve got paint in it, see?” The demon brushes his hand through Lark’s hair and purposefully smudges the paint even more. Lark lets out an outraged noise and picks up his brush, flinging the droplets of paint at Nick, who raises his arms in front of his face to protect himself.

“Oh you are so on.”

The two begin to wrestle, the paint staining their skin and clothes until, panting, Lark collapses on the floor. Nick pins him down with one hand, sitting on his legs to keep him from moving.

“So you admit I win?”

“Fine, you little shit,” Lark pushes Nick’s hand off of his chest and leans up to kiss him. Nick happily melts into the kiss and lowers the two of them down until they’re parallel with the floor, Nick’s arm wrapped around Lark’s waist.

“Got you,” Lark whispers into Nick’s ear and his pulls his hand from the demon’s face. Nick touches his cheek and grins when his hand comes away red.

“How dare you,” he says playfully, and stands up. Lark makes a noise of protest, but Nick just sticks his tongue out and heads towards the bathroom to wash the paint off. When he gets back, Lark’s doodling something in pink on the base of the wall, and Nick crouches next to him to watch. The moment Lark sees him he turns bright red and smudges the paint.

“No I wanna see! What were you drawing?”

“Nothing!” Lark says hurriedly. Nick narrows his eyes but changes the topic.

“Where’d you learn to paint anyway?” Nick asks, sitting against the wall to look at Lark.

“Art therapy. Mercedes signed me up for it a few years ago.��

Nick lets out a noise of contentment and the two sit in silence for a little longer until Lark leans over and presses his lips to Nick’s again, and then Nick’s up against the wall as the paint from Lark’s hand bleeds into his shirt.

Below them, just barely visible is a couple of doodled flowers, with N+L written in pink.

—————————

hope you enjoyed it! I haven’t written in a while, sorry if it’s bad lol

#Alixwrites #dndads #dndads season 2 #dungeons and daddies #dndads s2 #Writing ask #fanafiction #Nark #nark nation

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psychosistr · 1 year ago

Text

Snake in the Grass- Chapter 3

Summary: Things go from strange to stranger for Dominic and his little team as they deal with broken doors, faulty communicators, and, worst of all- not one, but two enemy agents appearing.

Notes: Poor Dominic is just NOT having a good day, lol x3

-First Chapter-

Well, today just seemed determined to go from bad to worse, didn’t it? The flicker of hope that things would finally start going well for Dominic now that he was reunited with part of his old team was thoroughly stomped out when they came to a jammed door similar to the one that had separated him from his partner. Both him and Shoots tried their best to pry it open, but with its control panel smashed it was just as stuck as the last one.

“They really need to put in an emergency override for these things..” The loon muttered to himself while activating his communicator. “Steelbeak? Come in, Steelbeak.” The only answer he got was static, prompting him to tap a few buttons and move the device around in an attempt to clear it up. “Steelbeak? Hello?” All he got was more static. “What’s wrong with this thing?”

“Might be a ssssignal jammer. Ourssss haven’t been working either.” Adders suggested, his partner nodding in agreement.

“Damn it..” Dominic cursed under his breath before speaking into the communicator again. “Steelbeak, if you can hear me, the doorway over here is blocked off, too. We’ll try to meet you on the next floor up. Domino out.” He ended the call and led his former subordinates to the stairwell with a notable scowl. “I swear, I’m half-tempted just to burn this building to the ground and call it a day.”

“You and me both, boss.” Shoots fell in line behind the darker fowl, his partner taking up the rear as they looked for the stairs. “We’ve been chasing this guy for hours now- I wanna go home already!”

“With any luck, we’ll be out of here soon.” Dominic wished he could actually believe his own words, but their cumulative luck seemed pretty dismal so far. Still, the trio pressed on and made their way upstairs to the third floor- it wasn’t the first time they’d dealt with missions gone wrong and likely wouldn’t be the last, so no point letting it bring them down.

As they explored the upper floor, Dominic noted that it had been spared the chaos that had thoroughly wrecked the lower two but still held that same eerie silence that permeated the rest of the building. Although he would have liked to call out for his partner and find the rooster as quickly as possible, the idea of alerting their enemy to their location and opening themselves up to an ambush encouraged the loon to hold his tongue.

By the time they’d explored more than half the level and found no trace of either their enemy or his boyfriend, however, Dominic had become extremely worried. Did his call not go through? What if Steelbeak was still on the second floor looking for him? Was there even a staircase on his side of the building? What if he was trapped in the corridors without a way out? What if he was stuck down there with the enemy? What if he was hurt-?

Something cool and metallic hit the loon’s chest, bumped his leg on the way down, and dropped onto his webbed foot before rolling onto the floor, startling him a little. “Huh?” Looking down, Dominic found a bullet- the same kind that Steelbeak used, he noticed- with a tiny, scratchy dent that looked like someone had tried to pierce it without breaking it completely. Where had it come from? He hadn’t seen it coming or even heard it hit the ground. “What-?”

“Enemiessss!” Adders suddenly hissed, rising up a bit to get into a more defensive position.

“!!” Dominic and Shoots instantly looked in the same direction as the serpent, both birds drawing their guns.

There was a moment where the lights flickered again and the colors around him seemed to shift but then, to the loon’s surprise, he saw not one but TWO unfamiliar men watching them from around the corner of a small hallway the trio hadn’t reached yet. One of the strangers was a dark green asian grass lizard with an extremely long tail and small body while the other was a tall and buff white-furred wolf- both dressed in standard SHUSH uniform suits.

“How..?” Dominic hesitated to fire at the pair straight away- mostly because he was confused about why there was a pair of them to begin with. All the reports he’d heard- even from Shoots himself about his pursuit of the enemy- indicated that only one intruder had gotten in and the building had been on strict lockdown since then. So why were there now two SHUSH agents in here with them? Something about this wasn’t right.

“Get ‘em!!” Not surprisingly, Shoots didn’t put as much thought into the situation as his former boss did and instead lived up to his namesake by charging in & opening fire with his laser blaster.

Fortunately, Dominic was used to dealing with the recklessness of both Shoots & Adders in combat situations, so he easily fell into the role of providing cover fire for the cardinal. Without his arms, there wasn’t much Adders could do to help, so he followed behind the pair of sharp shooters.

The enemy agents ran almost instantly, dodging as best they could in the cramped hall. Dominic saw a silver revolver tucked into the waistband of the wolf’s pants but, surprisingly, he didn’t fire back despite the obvious danger. Instead, he knocked over filing cabinets, desks, and any other large office furniture the two ran past to slow down the trio pursuing them. When that didn’t work quite as effectively as he intended, the wolf grabbed a steel chair and said something to his partner.

By the time Dominic figured out they were heading for the stairwell on the opposite side of the building, it was a few seconds too late to stop them. He switched to his pistol loaded with ice rounds and tried firing ahead of the enemy agents, hoping to seal the doorway before they reached it. The only things he managed to hit were the door frame and the back of the wolf’s arm, causing him to let out a pained howl. Despite the freezing solution spreading across the larger man’s arm, he managed to get the door open and, as soon as the lizard’s long tail was clear of the entrance, he slammed it shut.

Shoots reached the door first and tried bashing his shoulder into it. It didn’t budge. “Damn it!”

Dominic glared at the door. It was reinforced steel with no glass panes- shooting at it wouldn’t do any good. Damn it all. “This isn’t good..” Taking charge of the situation as he often did, the loon looked at his comrades with a serious expression. “The situation’s changed: There are more enemies than we thought and there could be more hiding out or finding a way in. We need to contact FOWL and get more reinforcements.”

“But what about the signal jammer?” Shoots raised a good point.

“We could try the roof.” His partner suggested. “If we get up there, maybe we could get a clear ssssignal?”

Dominic thought the option over before giving the snake a nod. “It’s worth a shot.” Leading the other two back to the stairs they entered through, he could only hope his partner was safe and would stay that way until reinforcements arrived.

End Notes: Short and suspenseful chapter- next one will be from Steelbeak's point of view and will shed some light on things.

<-Previous Chapter Next Chapter->

#darkwing duck #dwd #steelbeak #Dominic Domino #Shoots #Adders #Shoots & Adders #ocs #dwd oc #not my oc #steeldomino #Snake in the Grass #thefriendlyfour

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feuqueerfire · 11 months ago

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February 2024 Movies/Shows Wrap-Up

A little monthly (spoilery!) wrap-up of all the shows, movies, and shorts I’ve watched or am watching in February 2024, general thoughts, and ranking of them all.

Recommendation of the month(s): Honestly, this month involved me watching BLs which brought something new to the table (omegaverse, fantasy & thai legends, isekai-ed into a game, lawyers and crime) but none of them stood out to me as much as I’d hoped (my greatest wish is stronger, more coherent scriptwriting). Recommendation is try whichever concept seems most appealing.

Ranking

Love For Love's Sake = Midnight Runners (2017) = Laws of Attraction (2023) = Pit Babe = The Sign = Mr. and Mrs. Smith

Average Rating: 6/10 [unfortunate that it’s just 6/6.5s considering I was hoping for more from Pit Babe/The Sign/Laws of Attraction]

MDL Updates - Added to Watchlist:

A section because I’m curious about how many shows I decide to add to my Watch List a month and also the ratio of watching them:adding them.

Title MDL (year) - (date added to Considering or To Watch): initial reaction

Love for Love's Sake (2024): Positive reception and Cha Woongki is in it

Marry My Dead Body (2022) - 240202: I was watching Certified Noonas What's Coming Up in Feb 2023 and came across this, Taiwanese movie where dude marries a (male) ghost

Pit Babe (2023) - 240207: omegaverse racing show wouldn't necessarily draw me in but some Tiktoks I saw of eps 1-2 (esp of Charlie woahhh beautiful boy, I even reblogged on here which I very rarely do for shows I haven't watched yet) were interesting + lately, I've been seeing a lot of praise for it (esp that week when apparently Last Twilight Ep 12 disappointed a lot of people but had a really good episode for this show)

A Shop for Killers (2024) - 240210: I saw it on the Certified Noonas coming up in January I think? But I also saw it getting good impressions on the r/kdrama on-air threads + pocha playlist's initial impression + it has Lee Dong Wook, even though it's not like I watch all his shows or anything

A Killer Paradox (2024) - 240210: Been waiting for this since literally 2023 after I watched Strangers From Hell and saw in Certified Noonas' 2023 releases that it was from the same director + is an interesting concept

My Personal Weatherman (2023) - 240215: I don't know, maybe I just wanna see their dubcon bad bdsm dynamic. also, i keep reblogging horny gifsets cuz there are plenty for this show...

The Sign (2024) - 240215: The finale still isn't properly available yet so I don't really know how people will feel about the end but oh well, I'm gonna end up watching it either way because of how much people have been loving it

Chaser Game W (2024): Another Japanese GL and apparently it has toxic-ish workplace romance + post-breakup second chance romance yay. Also, the tweet where one of the characters is like “I’m a lesbian” *thunder* is hilarious

A Little Romance/Let's Wait for the Rain to Stop (2022) - 240219: A 14-minute Chinese bromance short from this tiktok that I saw

Dead Friend Forever - DFF (2024): I’ve been meaning to watch this since like ep 1 came out and I learned it was supposed to be horror-esque/slasher and seems like people have been loving it even more these past few eps. I’m actually so excited to check it out, I hope I love it and it rots my brain.

To Watch List At Start Of Month: 62

To Watch List At End Of Month: 67

Removed from To Watch List:

Title (Year) - (date removed): reason

None

Completely Watched

Love for Love's Sake (2024)

Country: South Korea

Release Dates: Jan 24, 2024 - Feb 1, 2024

Watch Via: paid, so :>

Watch Dates: Feb 1 - 2, 2024

Rating: 6/10

Overall Impression: It was cute, the concept was nice, the early 2 eps were Very promising and last ep was touching but the middle (esp 5-6) was quite meh for me. There was also a bunch of confusing stuff, esp in the second half, but I guess I won't try to investigate too much. It has people really talking and discussing and dissecting it though, which is a fun aspect.

tags: love for love's sake

Also Appears In: Love For Love's Sake Live Blogging

Midnight Runners (2017)

Country: South Korea

Release Dates: Aug 9, 2017

Watch Via: Tubi (free)

Watch Dates: Feb 3, 2024

Rating: 6/10

Overall Impression: I came in with expectations of copaganda and bromance. Got the copaganda (I mean the real cops were useless af but) and bromance, as well at annoyance at these male-led shows with female victims where the story is solely about the men and they just dilly-dally through it all like why are you not upright enough to be like oh, I shouldn't waste time getting my ears cleaned by pretty girl rn, there's a 7-hour critical timeframe we were taught about, chop chop. Anyway, they were still passionate and did it, so good job but this really was just more about a male power fantasy of being the hero and beating up people and being the "saviour" because it was just about them 2 doing anything and we don't even get a moment of the girls after rescue and like 1 minute of them total before that. I can enjoy these sorts of action movies and like a good fight scene but I think I can be really averse to using crimes against women while centering men in the show (Midnight Runners, fuckass Manner of Death). I love Beyond Evil though, even though 2 male main characters were the focus in this story where a serial killer is killing women but I think that story maybe that story 1) properly showed the gravity of the crime against the women and 2) there wasn't a scene like the ear-cleaning parlor in this one and the sex scene in Manner of Death after they got that important laptop where I was supposed to either find it funny or sexy that they were doing this instead of focusing on the fucking investigation.

Agh, so many words and half of them aren't even about this movie

Laws of Attraction (2023)

Country: Thailand

Release Dates: Jul 15, 2023 - Sep 2, 2023

Watch Via: paid, so :>

Watch Dates: Feb 3 - 6, 2024

Rating: 6/10

Overall Impression: I really liked To Sir, With Love which was a lakorn and so was different than every other BL I've watched and was hoping I'd similarly love this one, which is also bringing something unique to the BL table. It started off really well for me, I thought Charn was such a fun (morally corrupt) character and was intrigued about what was going on. I liked the lesbians Maya and Rose as well ofc. However, I think toward ep 7 and 8, it kinda became very meh for me (that warehouse live stream scene not counting) because the mystery was too predictable/boring and thus had no tension, people kept making incredibly stupid decisions, and I wasn't attached to the characters enough to care/be emotional about all the wedding stuff. Nawin was a great addition in ep 7 though, so unexpected and fun. Unfortunate that the meh impression ended up being the last ones since that sticks with me more than liking it in the earlier eps.

tags: laws of attraction

Also Appears In: Laws of Attraction Live Blogging

Pit Babe

Country: Thailand

Release Dates: Nov 17, 2023 - Feb 9, 2024

Watch Via: iQiyi (paid, so :>)

Watch Dates: Feb 7 - 11, 2024

Rating: 6/10 [May 12, 2024 Update: Decreased by 0.5 stars when rerating shows I've watched in 2024: 6.5 -> 6]

Overall Impression: This show had everything: non-traditional alpha/alpha relationship, racecar competitions, x-men like superpowers, child trafficking, pseudo-incest if you think about it (from Kenta's side at least), and more. And it didn't have a super strong script, there were nonsensical elements and plot holes that didn't get addressed and things that happened to just move the plot along, but it was a fun watch nonetheless, both for the novelty and the entertainment factor. Babe was a very compelling character with his past and how he behaves in the present and his relationships with Tony/Way/people in general. Also helped that Pavel did a really good job with him and acted his ass off, there were quite a few emotional moments in there. I agree with some people's comments that I wish Charlie's actor Pooh as a better actor. And his character wasn't as developed or with depth as the other ones either, like in terms of emotions I guess. Although I really liked Charlie/Babe, my true ship winners might be Pete/Kenta in a Not Me ToddBlack fashion, to be honest, with Kenta as maybe my favourite character (2nd is Babe). They gave us like 2 tiny hints that they might know each other and waited until literally last 10 mins of episode 11 out of 13 to lay out their history. They have an interesting friends (-> brothers/crush) -> enemies -> allies again at the very end dynamic where I think that they could become lovers post-canon. Really had me writing a fic idea in my notes app after my few months of no drive to write.

tags: pit babe, kenta

Also Appears In: Pit Babe Live Blogging, + my fic heh

240215: I'm not starting Only Friends already because I wanna take some time to write my Pete Babe fic and if I start a new show, I'll stop writing it. However, I was in dire need of some BL and ended up rewatching just bits of Ghost Host Ghost House ep 4 after I saw a gifset on here, then watched like 2 mins of Bed Friend cat Uea and then Eps 13 - 15 of Addicted Heroin. Man, once again, 2016 Addicted Heroin cutoff must've actually been so fucking tragic. Like I'm only rewatching parts of it nearly a decade later + watched the Stay With Me remake and still it's devastating the way it just ends, I can't imagine how people who were watching it in real time coped. How has nobody leaked it even asdfghjkl Also ended up reading chapters 96 - 135 because I was like hm maybe I wanna read more but the book is A Lot, so stopped lol

Mr. & Mrs. Smith (2005)

Country: USA

Release Dates: June 7, 2005

Watch Via: TV

Watch Dates: Feb 19, 2024

Rating: 6/10 [May 12, 2024 Update: Decreased by 0.5 stars when rerating shows I've watched in 2024: 6.5 -> 6]

Overall Impression: This is fun and finally I will understand what people mean when they reference this movie (although I knew that it was about hitmen/spies who were married and didn't know the other was a spy as well and that's pretty accurate). Had one of my favourite tropes of having guns/knives pointed at each other and ample chance to kill the other person but they Can't!!! Todd/Black was my original for this but then we got Vegas/Pete, Pete/Kenta and now this movie which came out like 2 decades before these other shows lol Anyway, fun but not something I will think about again + the characters aren't developed enough for me to care.

The Sign (2024)

Country: Thailand

Release Dates: Nov 25, 2023 - Feb 11 (24), 2024

Watch Via: Youtube

Watch Dates: Feb 20 - 24, 2024

Rating: 6/10 [May 12, 2024 Update: Decreased by 0.5 stars when rerating shows I've watched in 2024: 6.5 -> 6]

Overall Impression: I think I liked the first few eps and the potential of the series and the possibilities than I liked the actual series oof. Since everybody freaking loved this, I also had high expectations. I thought there would be more focus on the romance and fantasy and past lives aspect and less on the cop activity. I feel like they didn't choose the correct things to show on screen. I think most of the fight scenes and stuff were confusing and not choreographed very well, and some moments needed to have more time dedicated to them or have more gravitas to them. However, some moments were just shot/directed so beautifully. I enjoyed the parallels between Tharn and Phaya or their current life and past life. It shows the cyclical nature of Phaya and Tharn's lives, and it would've been even more impactful if we saw more of their past lives (their OG life or other reincarnations). Highly doubt I'm gonna think of the characters again, I somehow stopped being attached to them about halfway through - probably related to the fact that I liked the first few eps (half?) of the show better. They tried so many things, but I don't think they satisfyingly merged them or chose the correct things to focus on on-screen.

tags: the sign

Also Appears In: The Sign Live Blogging

I’m not watching anything in the last week of February because I seriously need to study for this exam and can’t have a show distracting me but am also in such desperate need of a BL, so I skimmed some stuff.

240226: Skimmed parts of History 3: Trapped’s last few episodes and it continues to hit. agh, it’s just so good. Also skimmed a bit of Semantic Error middle episodes but not as much as Trapped

240228: Skimmed some middle bits of the Our Dating Sim movie, I really need to rewatch the full thing in year cuz I think it’s possible for it to go from 6.5 -> 7

It’s a shame that I only watched 6 things this month (and 2 of those were movies that) because I had a week of break in the middle from university. Still, it’s fine because I used that week to write a fic after a couple months instead, so I’m not too sad. And since the Thai BLs were pretty like plot-involved (esp The Sign and Laws of Attraction), it makes sense that I wasn’t just jumping from show to show.

Posts Created This Month:

2024 Anticipated Series & Movies

...Pit Babe fic

#tracking #general bl #love for love's sake #pit babe #the sign #laws of attraction

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atomicallysound · 2 years ago

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27/7/23 - late

growing up is hard. it’s 4am right now. well, 3:56am if you wanna be technical about it. i remember the first time i stayed up until 4am i was 8 or 9 years old and i stayed up cuz i was was watching american dad with my sister… then she went to bed and i went playing on my computer. i was listening to spanish flea by herp albert on loop for like three fuckin hours, i remember cuz i drew my oc cakies playing the trumpet. it was actually a pretty good drawing for what i could do at the time, with my fucking mouse and mspaint and all — but that’s besides the point. after all that i went on minecraft and joined random servers and started arguing with people just to be annoying. man, it was so entertaining! it got to 4am at that point and i remmeber thinking “wow, this’ll probably be the latest i’ll EVER stay up!” then my dad came home from wherever the fuck he was and i went to sleep.

but about that… isn’t it something how when you were a kid; staying up was this monumental unheard of action? i always felt so wild staying up to even midnight. now it’s like whatever. just another night.

i’m not even tired yet. i’m TIRED, of course, but i’m not sleepy. i have this fucking headache too. and i can’t stop sneezing, so even if i could sleep, i’d be too busy sneezing to do anything about it. i think i’m getting sick. i don’t know where from since i haven’t really gone anywhere since i quit my job. man, i really fucked myself over by taking a nap earlier! at like 3 or 4pm i was depressed as all hell so i thought i’d sleep it off. it worked, i felt better when i woke up, but i woke up at like 8pm and royally fucked my sleeping schedule… oh well, i’ll just drink a shit ton of coffee tomorrow. or, later, i guess… i don’t really consider past midnight to be “tomorrow” until the sun rises. i don’t really drink coffee anymore… i used to be all about it but the last time i drank it was a deeply terrible latte from like, 3 weeks ago…

i got that deeply terrible latte because i went to starbucks to have a table to write at, and the employees were all having a lovely conversation with eachother and i suddenly felt sorry as hell for coming up to them because then that meant they’d have to stop talking just to give me my stupid drink. i wanted to jump out the fucking window at that point but i’d already walked up to the counter, and i wanted a caramel macchiato but i couldn’t remember if that was simple or hard to make — and i didn’t want to be any more of a bother than i already felt i was, so i decided to order the most basic simplest drink i could think of so they could go back to their conversation sooner, and ordered just an iced latte, please.

maybe i shouldn’t have gone to starbucks anyway because the latte sucked, it was like four fucking bucks for this muddy puddle water with a few ice cubes in it, the table i was writing at sucked & was sticky, these girls behind me kept laughing in my direction and i couldn’t tell if they were laughing AT me or just laughing & happened to look near me, i felt like an idiot, i didn’t even have anything to write about, the fire alarm kept going off cuz they were testing it, honestly why am i even talking about this? who cares? what is wrong with me? why do i feel like the scum of the earth for daring to buy a drink from people who make drinks for a living? maybe there is something wrong with me… or maybe it’s just starbucks. i don’t really like starbucks that much. 90% of my starbucks visits where id buy something have been thoroughly unpleasant. there was an incident with a certain vegan breakfast sandwich. there was a muffin i bought to share with my friend who then decided she didn’t want any and i had to sadly eat this muffin by myself while she just watched. there was a hot chocolate i burned my tongue on. but i will admit, their caramel macchiatos are good.

the birds are singing outside. it’s like 4:30 now. 4:29 if you wanna get technical about it. how have i spent half an hour writing already?

i kinda wanna stay up and go watch the sunrise. but at the same time… sleeping sounds good. goodnight friends

-yellow

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katelynnwrites · 2 years ago

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I Don’t Wanna Be Your Friend (I Wanna Kiss Your Lips) | Ona Batlle

warnings: stomach ache inducing fluff

word count: 1706

summary: in which ona decides she wants to be your first kiss

a/n: this is my 50th fic for ona 🥰

‘You haven’t had your first kiss yet?’ Millie yells.

‘Damn Millie, why don’t you just let the whole team know.’ You sigh and sink down further in your seat.

The blonde’s voice had clearly carried down the length of the bus because Ella and Alessia appear soon enough.

‘Look I know you’re the team baby but seriously you haven’t had your first kiss yet?’ Less says in disbelief.

‘Guys come on, it’s not a big deal. I just haven’t found anybody I want to kiss yet.’ You try and assure them but at this point it’s too late because Millie has several of your teammates agreeing to go out to a club after the away game to try and find you someone to kiss.

Sighing once more, you realise there’s no way you would be able to get out of whatever your teammates were plotting.

Fifteen minutes later, when Millie starts questioning you about your type, you grab your airpods and phone, escaping the blonde to sit with a brunette instead.

A certain brunette that simply lets you lean into her shoulder and exhale in relief.

‘They’re trying to find you someone to kiss?’ She murmurs, letting you play with the rings on her hand.

You merely make a face and Ona laughs softly, switching the subject and asking if you’d like to watch a movie.

You’re all too happy to agree.

******

Ona helps you to put together an outfit from the limited clothes you had brought.

She’d laughed as you had voiced your complaints about being dragged out for the night.

All you wanted to do was curl up and watch a movie, maybe with your roommate watching it with you. Ona’s easily your best friend and you loved spending time with her.

The Spanish girl was someone whom you related to almost immediately, the out of place feeling being the common thread between the both of you, given that she had signed for United just before you.

It wasn't long before the two of you managed to adapt to the new team but the bond the both of you had stayed. If anything, it had only become stronger.

Ivana was nice and she often hung out with you and Ona but the friendship you had with her, wasn’t quite the same as what you had with Ona.

In fact, your best friend had a phrase she liked to use to describe how close you were, mi media naranja.

It was in Spanish so you didn’t understand but she said it translated to the other half of your orange.

You could not help but tease Ona, saying that you couldn’t believe she had compared you to an orange. The Spanish girl had blushed and stammered about how a direct translation was not the same as the original meaning.

Ona calling your name draws you out of your thoughts and she rolls her eyes at you.

‘Finally naranja. I thought I had lost you to your thoughts.’

Smiling at her sheepishly, you offer a meek apology which the Spaniard accepts easily.

Holding up two different tops, she asks, ‘Now choose, black or white?’

******

You begged Ona to come with you. And even though a part of her really wanted to stay at the hotel, she couldn’t say no to you. That’s how she finds herself all dressed up and squeezed beside you, into a cab with a bunch of your other teammates.

******

At the club, you’d hid your growing anxiety as Millie and Alessia introduced you to girl after girl, attempting to find one you liked.

It’s mildly exasperating to both your teammates that you keep making up excuses and turning all of them down.

Eventually they had given up, swearing that they would try again another night. Lessi had sarcastically mumbled something along the lines of how no one in the club was your type as she’d left to join Ella.

She was wrong and if you were being honest, there was someone who had caught your eye.

Said someone had caught your eye a long time ago and you were pretty sure you were in deep.

Taking your chance to seek her out, you begin looking all over.

It was strange that she wasn’t on the dance floor because Ona could usually be counted on to show off her dance moves even before she’d had drinks. It was also strange that you basically hadn’t seen her since Millie and Lessi had whisked you away.

You had hoped that Ona would stick around but you chalk her disappearance up to her wanting to give you some privacy.

You’d searched practically the whole club before it occurrs to you to check the toilets. Your teammates had been unhelpful when you had asked if they had seen Ona so this really was the only place she could be.

And she was. The brunette you had been searching for was leant up against the bathroom counter, an unreadable expression on her face.

‘Ona.’

Exhaling in relief, you hug her gently and Ona immediately opens her arms to you.

‘Hi.’ She softly whispers and you squeeze her waist a little harder.

‘You okay?’ She checks and you hum, turning your head so that you can breathe in the scent of her perfume.

‘Better now that I’m with you.’ You assure her and she blushes slightly and murmurs her similar thoughts. That she too felt better now that you were here with her.

******

You both don’t really say much as you get ready for bed. It’s a comfortable silence though, as the pair of you go through the motions of a well practiced routine.

Ona showers first while you pack. Then you take your shower as Ona packs, her going a little bit further and helping you put your shin pads back into your bag as you always somehow manage to forget them.

It’s not long before you’re in bed, Ona sliding under the covers next to you. She lies there quietly until you break the silence, ‘I didn’t kiss anyone.’

Ona exhales, secretly full of relief before she asks, ‘Why not?’

‘There wasn’t anyone I wanted to kiss there. None of them were really my type.’ You mumble, cheeks heating up.

‘Do you still want your first kiss though?’ The Spaniard softly questions.

Her hand finds yours under the covers and she squeezes it reassuringly.

‘Yeah.’ You shyly admit.

Your best friend hums in response before she says, ‘Do you want to kiss me then?’

Sitting up immediately, you look at Ona with wide eyes, trying to see if she meant it.

Ona sits up too, her hand still holding yours.

‘I’m serious mi media naranja. I’d love to be your first kiss.’

Her words are sincere and the smile on her face has you nodding, even if you are a little nervous.

‘Okay.’ Your best friend’s smile widens and she squeezes your hand once more before she hops off the bed.

Ona rummages around in her bag for a bit before she finds her chapstick, which she quickly puts on.

She gives you another sweet smile, settling herself on the bed, in front of you.

‘Which way do you want to lean, mi media naranja?’

The all too familiar nickname, in Ona’s soothing, heavily accented voice melts away the last of your anxieties.

It was just you and your best friend, the girl who you had liked for ages now.

‘Right please.’

Ona gives a nod and leans left, closing the distance between the two of you until there’s just a tiny gap left.

This near, you can see all her individual eyelashes and freckles even in the weak lighting of the sole night lamp of the hotel room.

You close the tiny gap, tentatively letting your lips meet Ona’s.

Her lips are soft and you can taste the coconut of her chapstick as she kisses you back.

Drawing back a second later, you feel a smile grow on your face as you keep looking at Ona.

The same smile is mirrored on your best friend’s face.

The Spaniard blushes, scratching the back of her neck before reaching out to push a strand of hair out of your face, ‘Would now be a good time to tell you that I have a crush on you?’

You didn’t think your smile could get any bigger but it does.

Softly you say, ‘Would now be a good time to tell you that I have a crush on you too?’

Ona blushes harder, gently placing her hands on your cheeks.

‘Mi media naranja means my half-orange. I know I let you believe it means twin but it really means soulmate. The saying is encontrar tu media naranja, to find your half orange or better half. I’ve found my media naranja in you. You are my better half, my soulmate and so much more.’

‘Ona…’

Tears slip from your eyes at her heartfelt words.

‘Please don’t cry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.’ She panickedly murmurs, using her thumbs to try and wipe them away.

You sniffle, leaning into her touch.

‘Ona, can I kiss you again?’

‘You may. Anytime you like mi media naranja.’

Pressing your lips against hers for the second time of the night, you let yourself savour the way she tastes, the way her lips move eagerly against yours.

When the need to breathe finally becomes too much, you pull away to rest your forehead against the fullback’s.

With closed eyes, you murmur, ‘Your words mean more to me than you’ll ever know, you mean more to me than you’ll ever know.’

The wobbly breath that Ona lets out makes you smile and she draws back, kissing you on your forehead.

‘I’m going to kiss you now.’, is all the warning she gives before her lips are on yours once more, until all you feel is her, filling everywhere and everything you’ve ever known.

******

This time, you’re cuddling into Ona during the journey, paying no attention to Millie’s or Alessia’s attempts to involve you in their discussion on how to get you your first kiss.

Eventually, Ona’s the one who puts a stop to it, snapping that you’d already had your first kiss and better yet, found yourself a girlfriend.

Spanish Translations:

mi media naranja - my half-orange

encontrar tu media naranja - to meet your other half

#spanish friends i hope i got the mi media naranja phrase right 😅#also is it obvious that i wrote this whole fic just for that kiss scene?#like i centred everything around it #ona batlle #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle imagine #muwfc x reader #muwfc imagine #espwnt x reader #espwnt imagine #woso imagine #woso imagines #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso fanfiction #katelynnwrites #uswnt imagine #uswnt x reader

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silkscream · 3 years ago

Text

something holy

synopsis: tom hasn’t been in your life for months... until you run into him unexpectedly at a party.

pairing: uni!tom x reader

genre: uni au, angst, smut, exes to lovers, could be frat!tom if you wish

warnings: explicit content, smut, alcohol, drugs, slight dom!tom, protected sex, oral sex (f receiving), lots of angst lol

word count: 4.5k

a/n: bro this hurt to write. did i come up w this story by daydreaming abt my own ex? of course not. who told you that? also this isn’t necessarily inspired by something holy by alice phoebe lou but it shares the same title... give it a listen <3

The more you tried to forget, the more the memory of him swelled in your heart, though it also had the same effect as your lungs suffocating from cyanide. No, maybe that was too harsh. It’s not like Tom ruined your life. Quite frankly, every time a friend of yours had asked about him in the past year, you never had much to say other than that your attachment styles maybe clashed. He was busy all the time anyway. Of course he was moving on well, never stealing a glance at you during lecture hall whereas you felt like you were performing for him, just in case he was gazing at you. Just in case he was watching you and missed what he saw. It didn’t matter. He stopped sitting with you which was a given, though you thought that it would’ve been okay considered he “still wanted to be friends.” Does anyone ever follow through with that? You hate yourself for how much you crave even just Tom’s acquaintanceship. It makes you feel pathetic.

You haven’t seen him in weeks, you realize, since the new semester had started. What a blessing. Now, you were roaming sweaty bodies in a house far too big for it to remain unscathed by the morning. Alice was nowhere to be found — your roommate was probably eating Harrison’s face off. Luckily they had been seeing each other only casually, seeing him on the weekends eating cereal in your kitchen after their hookups with simple greetings in between. You have to physically fight the urge to ask about Tom every time.

“Incoming!” barks a sophomore towards you. Your head turns like whiplash before a ping pong ball flies right into your face, causing an eruption of laughter from the crew at the beer pong table. You wince and look back at them, grimacing.

“Cheer up, pretty girl! Wanna be on my team?” another boy yells.

“No thanks,” you yell back, your smile dripping with venom as you flip them off.

You wonder how it’s possible to feel so out of it, dopey from the joint you had just smoked mixed with the wine in your hands, while also feeling like your heart is about to beat out of your chest. It’s like your body is taking a screenshot — the downers mixing with the uppers. The uppers being, well, your physical anxiety manifesting in the prison of this house party. You retreat upstairs to wander around the large house — you realize you don’t even know who lives there. Friend of Harrison’s or something. You stumble past bare rooms with dirty laundry on the floors, couples making out and shutting the door abruptly behind them as you walk by. You make your way into the bathroom to check your reflection and maybe splash some cold water on the back of your neck. You don’t necessarily recognize the face in front of you. It’s like seeing a ghost, you think. Sighing, you take a gulp of your wine, raising an eyebrow at an opened, half-full bottle of rosé that someone had left on the windowsill next to the toilet. Shrugging, you take it, tucking it under your arm as you leave.

It’s right then when you notice a drawing in one of the rooms. It’s messy and abstract, with red lines swooping together to make out flowers and butterflies. It’s your drawing. Looking around the room, there isn’t much evidence to what the owner of the bedroom could be like. You don’t recognize the bedsheets and the room is eerily clean, save a couple of stray socks scattered next to the bed. All there is on the walls are your drawing and a Bob Dylan poster. You frown, too lost in your wandering brain to remember when you made that drawing, so you look out the window instead to watch everyone else at the party make fools of themselves. The party below is full of life and everyone looks like little ants.

“Uh, hey stalker,” a voice murmurs from behind you. The room is dark except for the weak string lights. The warm light of the hallway backlits the figure in front of you as you squint. You widen your eyes. Just my fucking luck.

“Tom?” you call out. Your anxiety spikes just a bit, though your eyes soften as your gaze splays out onto the moonlight chiseling the freckled boy’s features. He looks tougher, somehow. Maybe it’s the thin black t-shirt that shows off his arms or how his curls have grown out a bit to make him look both more boyish and more… refined. You can’t tell if his jaw has gotten sharper or if he’s simply clenching it at the sight of you. Your stomach sinks.

“Like my interior decorating skills? Or are you trying to find the body in here?” he raises an eyebrow.

You chuckle sheepishly. “Ha ha, very funny. As if you have the balls to kill someone and hide it.”

“That’s the thing, babe, you’re next.” His lips are in a thin white line as he stares at you. A beat passes before his mouth turns up into a smile. You remember to breathe suddenly, exhaling a laugh. You missed this… the weird banter. You two had a good repertoire of always knowing how to retaliate in your shared arguments and bits. It was never a dull moment between the two of you. Even when you’re six feet apart and practically strangers.

You rub the back of your neck. It’s hot now compared to the coolness from the bathroom water from moments ago. “Um, sorry. Didn’t know you lived here. I can leave if you want some privacy,” you mumble.

“You’re fine. Just came here to smoke. Seems like we invited way too many annoying fucking people to this party. I don’t even recognize half of these faces. ’S like a fucking riot down there.”

“Aren’t you, like, concerned your shit’s gonna get broken?”

“House was basically furnished when I moved in, so, not my problem. As long as no one pukes in my room.” Tom peers towards you as he grinds the weed. “You not gonna throw up any time soon, yeah?”

“I’m good,” you smile shyly. You can’t help but watch his hands as he prepares a joint. His fingers are long and slender, so neat-looking despite the pinkish flesh of his knuckles. You notice he’s still sporting the rings he got that one time you took him thrift shopping. There’s even the band that looks like a crown. You had picked it out for him.

“Good girl.” He nods. Something in your stomach churns. Was the rosé in your cup too sweet? Did you even remember to eat before you went to the party?

Biting your lip, your eyes flit between his fingers and the moon. You feel like you’re staring, so you look beyond his window instead. It feels like the air in the room has gotten thicker as he moves from his desk to sit across from you on the seat of his bay windows.

“You want?” he raises his eyebrows in question, holding the joint out for you. You probably shouldn’t considering you were still a bit high from before, not to mention you were a third down from the bottle of wine in your hand and you had two cups of red right when you arrived. You had always taken your alcohol well, even when it was too much. Your mind flashes to when Tom would have to lug you home, forcing you into an Uber when things got too intense. You wonder briefly if he’d take care of you now.

You nod slightly, taking the joint in your mouth and lighting it. You inhale a bit too quickly, causing a small coughing fit. It goes to your brain immediately, making you feel lightheaded. A breathy chuckle leaves your mouth as you hand the joint back, which is now littered with a print from your dark lipstick.

“You good?” Tom laughs.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m great.”

Tom doesn’t know what to do with himself. He’s been in a bad mood since around 10 pm when someone had broken two wine glasses at once, not to mention the freshman that spilled her vodka cranberry on his lap in an attempt to hit on him. He doesn’t know what he’s feeling right now, because having you in his room is a new sight, yet the way the moon creates a halo around your hair is all too familiar. It reminds him of how the moonlight shone on your cheeks while you were asleep, and how he would play with your hair and count strands the way a child would count sheep. His heart flutters when he watches you take another hit. He shoves these feelings deeper into his body and thinks he just must be really, really, really high.

“I haven’t— I haven’t seen you in a while. How are you?” you ask, coughing lightly.

“Um, fine. I guess. My workload is bigger now so I have less free time. Shit’s pretty boring around here, I guess. How’s your, um, art and stuff?”

“Great! I have a studio now,” you grin. Your eyes wander towards the wall where your drawing is pinned. “You still kept that.”

Tom turns around to see where you’re looking. Maybe it’s too dark to tell, but a blush creeps over his face. “Oh, yeah. I mean, I just had it and my walls were fucking bare, so. I still really like it.” You are beaming on the inside, but you can’t show that. You hesitate from showing any kind of emotional vulnerability ever since he ended things with you. It wasn’t like Tom said it out loud, but he was just so tired. Tired of you, tired of expecting to answer every question. Apparently, it was too much work for him to communicate his feelings, which left you in the dark at every turn. The space between you continued to grow like a swelled up balloon.

“I’m sorry I haven’t texted or called.”

Maybe you’re too crossfaded to remember social cues at this point, because at that statement, you scoff.

“It’s no problem. Just wished you kind of, acknowledged my existence every once in a while,” you replied.

Tom’s brows furrow. “Really? Whenever I’m around you it’s like I have the plague or something.”

“What effort have you made in the past eight months to get close to me, Tom? Serious question,” you roll your eyes and take the joint straight from his lips and put it to your own, causing Tom to smirk at the action. You hike up your legs and put your knees to your chest. “No, actually, I could ask that for the entire last half of our relationship.”

“I don’t want to fight with you right now,” Tom sighs. He doesn’t want to tell you that he doesn’t know how to act when you’re around him. Of course, that’s obvious in his own behavior, but you always take it as an awkward post-breakup lovers-to-strangers thing. What you don’t know is that he does steal glances at you, hovers over your contact name when he’s drunk on the weekends, writes your name down a hundred times to reconcile what he feels about you until the feelings are gone for good. Those damn complicated feelings. If you knew even remotely what he was thinking you probably would’ve done witchcraft about it by now. But in the past year, you decided to suffer in silence and leave him alone.

“We’re not fighting, we’re talking. We’re having a very adult conversation now, Thomas,” you slur, punching him lightly in the shoulder. Oh, now you’re definitely too high to care, because at this point your eyes are wide looking at him and putting a hand behind his ear to stroke his soft brown hair. It feels like an automatic gesture. It feels as easy as blinking. You feel his warm pulse beneath your cold fingertips, then you swallow and pull your hand away like it’s been burnt once you realize what you just did, and now his mouth is slightly ajar.

“I’m really sorry, y/n,” Tom whispers. The way he says your name almost feels like a prayer.

You can’t recollect exactly how it happens, but suddenly Tom’s mouth is on yours. You jump at the gesture — you haven’t been touched in months. You hover back over his lips, eyelashes so close to fluttering right where his cheekbones are. You bridge the gap to kiss him back properly this time, slowly, and he licks at your top lip and your teeth and he tastes the slight mint flavor from the weed and the taste of sweet wine. Sometimes when Tom is high or drunk enough, he feels as though his body splits with each half gliding through different ends of a spectrum. With his mouth on yours, he feels himself stretch back into place again. Something whole, something holy.

He pretends that you didn’t just hear him mumble “missed you” in between your kisses, choosing to distract you by working down your neck. You’d always loved that, he has you memorized, and his stomach aches when he bites into your flesh ever so slightly and you whine. God, he can’t help himself. Tom knows this is a bad idea and that he should stop, but it’s like his mouth was made to be on your skin.

Your breath hitches and suddenly you’re on Tom’s lap, mouth fixed to his and your hands pulling at his chestnut locks. He lets a small groan that drives you certifiably insane. You’re a little too eager to grind slowly in his lap which makes the grip he has on your hips tighter. He breaks away from this only to stumble over to the door to close it, nearly tripping over himself in the process and startling you because it slams rather loudly. This makes you chuckle.

“C’mere,” Tom rasps, back to the front of you and pulling on your sleeve like a little kid towards the foot of his bed. He grabs your waist again and you’re pushed on top of him, grinding once again on his growing length. You switch places quickly once he grabs ahold of your ass and flips you over. His hands roam your body but mostly around your neck and your love handles, fingers groping just underneath your bra as if he’s silently asking your permission to touch your breasts. You bring his hand there himself and kneads your breast as he attacks your neck. “Tell me… what… you want…” he breathes heavily into the space between your neck and jaw.

You whine in response. “You know how to use your words, pretty girl. C’mon.”

Your eyes are shut because your heart is probably beating faster than the speed of light, but it’s like a spell is put over you. You’re staring right at him and his eyes are full of hunger — a sight you had only been dreaming about night after night in the past few months. From your head high, it felt like you were in a dream right then. “You… I-I want you,” you mumble.

“Want me where?” he raises an eyebrow, kissing down your stomach and tugging off your skirt.

“Tom, please,” you rasp in a weak voice just above a whisper. It’s a miracle he can hear you at all. Your eyes lock with his intently as he cascades down to your sweet spot, wet and begging to be touched.

“Please, what?” His mouth curls into a shit-eating smirk. He knows exactly what he does to you.

“Touch me, anywhere, please. Your… your mouth. Please?” you ask, gasping once he takes a finger to your clit and rubs generously. You try to hold back a moan but you can’t. You’re already unraveling and your body feels like it’s on fire. And yet, he’s just beginning.

“Poor baby. My poor girl. So pitiful for me right now,” he taunts, lapping at your folds with his tongue. Your eyes are wide with euphoria, the alcohol and weed in your system making you feel lighter and lighter. “Oh,” you whimper, legs shaking as Tom kisses your core sweetly and runs his tongue over your clit so slowly. Your head is on his pillow and you can smell him, the fresh scent of laundry and citrus fruits on his sheets. He uses the same body wash that you used to keep at your place. You hated (loved) how easily he could make you come undone, writhing under his touch when he was barely going down on you for more than three minutes.

You’re so close. Dangerously close. Pulling his curls and bucking your hips upward, he’s nearly drowning in your sweetness. Taking your desperation as a hint, he inserts a finger, then another, pumping with tantalizing strokes. Tom sighs into your warmth when you moan just a bit louder, your chest heaving with heat. “Fuck,” you rasp. “Fuck… I’m—“

Your walls constrict around Tom’s slender fingers until he hits your g-spot, causing you to nearly shriek. “Tommy, please…”

He lifts his mouth an inch above your pelvis and you whine in protest. Smirking, he kisses you there again and his voice is low and full of lust. “Gonna come for me? Yeah?”

“Yes… please keep going,” you reply with neediness. Seconds pass and soon you’re riding your orgasm like a wave, tenderness in the pit of your stomach that blooms like a flower. Your eyes were screwed shut so hard that when you open them the ceiling is different colors until a pair of brown eyes settle on your face. Tom is on top of you now, knee in between your legs and hands on your throat as he peppers your jaw with sloppy kisses. His hand caresses your cheek and turns your face towards him.

“So cute when you come,” he murmurs, stroking your hair. “Feel good?”

“Mhmm” comes out like a mewling sound. You’re still a writhing mess under him. You’ve probably forgotten your own name. In response, you kiss him passionately with more force than before. His eyelashes flutter in surprise and he groans once your hand hooks around the back of his neck once again. Your hand reaches down to his groin and rubs against his hardened length. “You have too many clothes on,” you say. Tom chuckles and unbuckles his belt, pulling his jeans off of him. The moan in your mouth says more, and now his bare chest is underneath your fingertips. So pretty.

Tom pauses and pulls away from you with a look of concern on his face. The first moment in the night where he genuinely looks slightly embarrassed. “You sure you want this?” You nod eagerly. He crawls over your body to his nightstand and pulls out a condom. “Off,” he whispers, fingers hooked around your red panties. Tuesday, it reads, next to a small embroidered cherry. He chuckles, taking in the sight of you looking like a kitten with longing, hair fanned out over his pillowcase. He missed this, the sight of an angel on his bed.

“So wet for me,” he coos, rubbing your clit again before stepping out of his briefs and rolling the condom down his length. You’ve already discarded your top.

“Shut up,” you mumble against his mouth, and now you’re the one pinning his arms to the bed, lowering yourself onto him. “Fuck,” Tom groans against your shoulder, biting it to suppress his voice from getting any louder. “You’re so fucking pretty, y/n.”

His hands are tangled in your hair as you ride him. He can feel you smile against his neck. You love the way your name falls out of his mouth unconsciously during this whole thing while his fingers rake your shoulder blades down to your ass. Tom flips you over and enters you again, thrusting harder while you whimper at the pressure inside you. How heavenly he feels inside of you, reaching all the right places. You can’t believe this is happening. Especially after all these months of absolutely nothing, and here he is, fucking you like you’re the only person in his world.

Your face is screwed from the impact and Tom thinks this is probably one of the best nights of his semester. Year, even, considering he hadn’t seen you in so long. Not like this. “Feels so good, fuck, yes,” you moan. You gasp when his thrusts get harder and his finger settles back to your clit. “Oh… oh, god. Tommy!”

“You’re going to make me come if you keep saying my name like that,” Tom growls into your ear. He nibbles at it, licks you in the sensitive spot that you like right behind your ear, then cascades to your neck to leave marks.

“Tommy, please,” you whimper, slight tears falling from your eyes because of what he’s doing to you — making your entire body vibrate and light up like fireworks. He shuts you up with an aggressive kiss as his hand is wrapped around your throat tightly. His thrusts get sloppier as he covers your mouth with his hand. Your eyes are lulling, half closed from the bliss. When he pulls his hand away, your lips look bruised, though neither of you can tell if it’s from your smudged lipstick or a wine stain. “So pretty like this,” he whispers, tasting your gasps in his mouth. Neither of you can speak after he lifts your legs up high to hoist around his shoulders, giving him even deeper access to your core. His mouth moves to your tits, sucking your nipples in his mouth. With a vigorous thrust he groans loudly. You can tell he’s close by the way his face is scrunched up, distracted by the feeling of you and you only, because he can’t even form a sentence. The pressure inside your pussy grows again and heat takes over the whole of your body until you reach your peak. “Fuck! I’m gonna… I…” you trail off and gasp when the orgasm hits and suddenly Tom is moaning into your mouth again, legs going slack as he comes inside of you shortly after. His body falls on top of yours as you both breathe heavily in the dark. Drenched in sweat, he gets up to remove the condom and falls back into the bed next to you. Silence falls around the room besides your labored breaths.

For some reason, shame causes Tom’s face to flush, because although he was just inside you, he doesn’t want to look at you. No, he does, he thinks he could stare at you forever until the end of time, but not right now. All he knows is that he wants you, has always wanted you, and now that he’s had you, he feels as if he had broken something very delicate. Broken an unspoken rule between the two of you. You’re quiet next to him and he peeks at you from the corner of his eye. He can’t make out your facial expression — whether you’re calm or angry or neutral. You’re just staring at his ceiling and your chest is rising and falling just in time with his breaths.

He should probably apologize. But who the fuck says ‘sorry’ after sex?

“You don’t have to tell me it was a bad idea. I already know,” your voice sounds robotic and it makes me him want to cry.

“That’s really what you think?”

You turn to him now, your face cold. “I already knew that was what you were thinking.” You sit up and pull your underwear back on, protectively crossing your arms over your chest as you step over him to get your phone from the windowsill. Before you can get it, Tom grabs your arm and you turn around to see his pleading face.

“Please, y/n, not everything has to be a conflict,” he begs.

“But it’s already there. It’s… it’s really obvious,” you reply meekly, wiping your face. You curse your vulnerability once again because here you are, starting to cry while you’re naked in Tom’s room. Your ex-boyfriend’s room. “Um, we’re both really fucked up right now, huh? It was a mistake. People get horny really easily. We’re… dumb.”

“Baby, come here, please,” Tom looks at you sadly, cradling you into his arms. “I… I’m sorry for everything that happened. I just want you next to me right now.”

You’re cold and frozen like a statue, looking up at him with tears prickling your eyes. You don’t know what to say. Let me leave you. Let me be the one who fucking leaves this time.

“I don’t regret what just happened, y/n. I… I love you.” Before you can react to his words he kisses you, this time in a way that is much more desperate than before. This isn’t supposed to be happening. He’s supposed to kick you out.

You can’t help but kiss back. I love you is the only thing echoing in your mind right now. Sure, he’s said it to you countless of times, but it feels like it’s been ages since those three words held as much weight as it does right now. Tom stops kissing you once he can feel your warm tears against your face, the saltiness hitting his mouth. He grabs your face gently and your eyes are screwed closed. “Please look at me.”

You shake your head like he’s a nightmare you’re trying to wake up from. “Please, y/n.”

This is probably the most you’ve ever heard him say please and I’m sorry.

“I love you, too,” you whisper, but it sounds more like a small croak because of your tears. “I don’t want to leave.”

“So don’t. I promise I won’t, either,” he says.

Something inside Tom snaps. His heart aches at the sight of you and suddenly the memories of all your tears from months ago flood into his brain. He realizes he never wants to see you like that again. He takes his shirt and wipes your face with it. You blow your nose into it instead, which harbors a laugh from the both of you.

You move towards his dresser and pull out the first t-shirt you can find. It’s very large, comically large even for him, and it has the Captain America symbol on it. You turn around and sneer. “You are so fucking lame.” Tom giggles.

“With that attitude, I’ll make you sleep on the floor.”

“Yeah, right. I can sleep on the floor if you want.”

“No! I need you in good shape tomorrow. I’m gonna make the best post-hangover breakfast you’ve ever seen,” Tom replies, throwing on his discarded t-shirt and combing his fingers through his unruly hair. His eyes are lit up at the sight of you in his clothes. It’s been too long.

“Am I gonna die from it?” you grin, lacing your fingers with his as he ushers you back to the bed.

“…Maybe.”

Some things never change.

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland angst #tom holland smut #dom!tom holland #frat!tom #uni!tom #exes to lovers #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland imagine #tom holland oneshot #tom holland fic #tom holland au

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giving-eraser-head · 3 years ago

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todobakudeku x fem!reader | SMUT (18+)

WARNINGS: threesome, daddy kink, use of “good girl,” “slut,” and “whore,” voyerism, exhibitionism, threesome, double (triple?) pen, anal, vaginal, and oral (giving and receiving) sex, yelling, degradation, praise, getting caught during sex, inexperienced writer (this is like the first smut I’ve ever written 0.0)

Word count: 3k

x male(ftm pre srs)!reader

Katsuki ran his hands up and down your body, making your skin tingle with excitement.

“Please,” you whimpered, lifting your hips up to try and create even a little bit of friction.

“Please what, baby?” Katsuki said, pressing his warm palms lightly on your abdomen. “Use your words.”

“Please touch me,” you moaned, grabbing at his hands and trying to move them down to your clit.

“Mhm, since you asked so nicely,” he said. His index finger ran down your stomach and he slipped it inside of you. “Ah, you’re already so wet just from me touching you like that?”

He pulled his finger out to put it in his mouth and you grunted, desperate for him to be inside you again. “What a fucking slut.”

You started to whimper again incoherently.

“Mhm, you taste so good, baby. I think I need more.” Katsuki lay down on his back. “Come sit on my face.”

You nodded eagerly, bringing your knees to either side of his head. You held yourself up just above his face, waiting for him to start.

“Uh-uh. You’re not gonna be able to keep yourself up on those legs once I’m done with you.”

You began to lower yourself down nervously.

“Come on now. Daddy can take it. Yeah, just like that. Good girl. When I need to breathe I’ll lift you up, but after you come right back down, understand?” He put his large hands on your waist.

“Y-yes sir.” You’d never called him sir before, but something about the way he was talking to you made it seem right. And judging by the way he moaned from underneath you, he liked it too.

When you were genuinely sitting on his face, Katsuki began alternating between pushing his tongue in and out of you and drawing figure eights on your clit. You gripped the sheets and bucked your hips back and forth over Katsuki’s face, covering his skin with the hot slick he was getting you to release.

“Ah! Katsu! That feels so good!”

“Quieter, baby,” he said softly as he lifted your hips.

“I’m- I’m sorry Katsu, you’re just- agh- so good-” you cut yourself off with another whimper as you felt an orgasm building in your core.

“Please Katsu, I’m so close, please keep going.”

He picked up the pace a little, focusing only on your clit as he flicked it up and down and drew circles around it.

“Ah- yes, yes,” you cried out, pulling against the sheets even harder while your back arched and stiffened. You felt your orgasm tear through you, making you cry out Katsuki’s name. He lifted you off his face and sat up, pulling you onto his lap.

“Fuck, you taste so fucking amazing. You were so good for me,” he said, stroking your hair.

“But you haven’t…” you trailed off, reaching for the bulge in his boxers.

“Be patient, baby, I’m gonna fuck you soon.” He lifted you off his lap and moved to the edge of the bed. His calves dangled and his toes grazed the floor.

“C’mere,” Katsu said, dragging his boxers off. He kicked his legs and let them crumple onto the ground.

You crawled over to him, and he lifted you up by the waist again with your back facing his chest, slowly lowering you onto his cock. You felt it stretch out your entrance slightly and gripped Katsuki’s thigh, but as he went deeper, the discomfort faded. Finally, he lowered you all the way onto his lap. He paused to let you adjust, but you just wanted him to do something. You could feel his dick twitch inside of you, and you moaned his name, trying to move back and forth.

“I’ll do it, baby, don’t worry.” He pulled your body up and pushed it down again, making you bounce up and down on his lap. His cock slammed deep inside you with every thrust, and you felt your core tighten with the unrelenting sensation. You could feel the head of his cock brush against you, and each time it hit that sensitive spot inside you, you couldn’t help but press your back into his chest and whimper. After a minute or so, even his heavy breathing in your ear turned into moans. You were facing away from each other, but you desperately wished you could see Katsu’s face.

“Ah, fuck yes. You’re such a good girl, making daddy feel so good.”

“Katsu, you- you fill me up so well,” you managed to choke out. Katsu started going faster, and you couldn’t help but whine. His arms kept a sturdy grip on your abdomen; you could feel the callouses on his palms rubbing against your skin.

“God, you like that?”

“Yes! It feels so good, daddy!”

“I know, baby,” he cooed, nuzzling his face between your neck and shoulder.

Your moans increased in volume, completely drowning out his, and Katsuki made a shushing noise. “Not too loud, sweetheart. What did I say?”

“I’m sorry, daddy,” you said softly. Your breathing became heavy and labored.

“That’s it. Good girl.” There was a creaking sound from in front of you, and the door swung open.

“Hey, is everything-” Deku stopped speaking to stare at the two of you, his mouth gaping open. On his left, Todoroki’s eyes went wide. Neither of them made a move to leave. As you mumbled ashamedly and tried to cover your naked body, Katsuki kept fucking you in front of the two men.

“Fuck, if you’re gonna watch, at least close the door, assholes,” he said in between huffs.

For a few seconds, they continued to stay still, but Todoroki reached behind him to pull the door closed, keeping his eyes on you the whole time.

“Fuck, my girl’s so hot you can’t look away, Half-and-Half Bastard?”

Todoroki didn’t respond but you could see a bulge growing in his pants. Next to him, Midoriya was already palming his dick from over his pants.

“Katsuki,” you whimpered softly, “don’t you think we should stop?”

“Why? They wanna watch, they can watch. You want me to cum inside you, don’t you?”

“I do, Katsu, just… this is embarrassing.”

“You- you should stop, Bakugo. She doesn’t want to keep going,” Todoroki said.

“We have a safe word, you vanilla bitch. Anyway, you’re the one making her uncomfortable.” He leaned into your ear and you felt his hot breath brush against your skin. “You really wanna stop, you say it, okay? I know I give you shit but I don’t want you doing anything you don’t wanna do,” he said.

You nodded your head but didn’t say anything. Katsu chuckled.

“I knew you were a slut. You hear that, dumbass? She loves being humiliated in front of you.”

You moaned and averted your eyes from the men as your face got even hotter.

“Stop covering up, baby. Let them see how pretty your body is. Show them why daddy loves fucking you so much.”

You slowly lowered your arms and gripped Katsu’s thighs again. Both Todoroki and Midoriya were flushing a deep shade of red, but neither made a move to leave. In fact, the bulges in their pants had only gotten bigger.

“Hm, baby, I bet you want them to fuck you, don’t you?”

“Wh-what?”

“Yeah, I can tell. You can’t stop fucking staring at them, and you haven’t said my name like you did before.”

He stopped bouncing you up and down for a moment and brought his palm down on your ass. You hissed at the sting.

“Moan for me, baby,” he said sternly, putting both hands on your waist again. He began to thrust deeper than before, picking up the pace.

“Katsu,” you whimpered, bringing your hand down to play with your clit. “You fit so well inside of me!”

“Yeah I do,” he hissed, continuing the pace. You felt another orgasm build inside of you, and it poured out with a string of moans. You clenched your walls around Katsuki’s cock, and he groaned, biting down on your shoulder. You yelped, but he didn't let go until your walls loosened around him.

“Good fucking girl,” he said again, licking at the marks he left. “Now for them.”

“What do you mean?” you stuttered nervously.

“Say their names. Shoto, Izuku. Moan for them. I want you too.”

Taking a shaky breath, you brought your fingers to your clit again and began to rub it up and down. “Ugh,” you whimpered as Katsu continued to fuck you relentlessly. “Izuku… ah…” You began to go faster and moaned even louder than before. “Shoto, ugh that- that feels so good,”

At the sound of you saying their names like that, they could no longer refrain from touching themselves. Without saying a word, both unbuckled their belts and let their cocks spring free as their pants and underwear pooled at their feet.

“Yeah, you bastards liked that?” Katsu laughed, biting softly on your shoulder again. “Why don’t you come fuck her too? You okay with that, baby?”

“Mhm-hm,” you groaned, unable to form another response.

“Look at them, m’kay? Who do you want in your mouth? I’m keeping this pussy. The other one will get your ass.”

“Uh,” you quickly looked back and forth between the men, unsure of which to choose.

“Deku’s dick is thicker,” Katsuki pointed out. “So it might hurt less. Unless you’re into that,” he chuckled.

Both men looked down self-consciously.

“Uh, okay. Izuku,” you mumbled.

“M’kay. Fuck her mouth for me, Deku. And you- there’s lube in that drawer.”

Todoroki quickly stepped over to get the lube.

“Hey- and don’t get any ideas, you hear me? You may fuck her tonight, but she’s still mine.”

Izuku nodded rapidly. “Don’t worry, Kacchan! I wouldn’t even think… wouldn’t even dream about it! I mean you two are obviously together and you’ve already been so generous with this, and-”

“Fuck my mouth, Deku,” you moaned, trying to keep your teeth from chattering as Katsu bounced you up and down on his lap.

“Hold on, baby, we gotta switch positions first. Don’t want you chomping down on Deku’s fat dick.

“F-fat?” Izuku stammered.

Katsu ignored him and stopped moving your hips up and down. You groaned at the loss of friction.

“Don’t worry, baby, it’ll be even better soon. Get on the floor on your hands and knees for me.”

You did as you were told, waiting for the three men to come closer.

“You-” Katsuki said to Todoroki, “bend over her.”

“What?”

“You heard me, dumbass. Put your legs around her, bend over, and stick yourself in her asshole.”

You whimpered at the idea.

“And you. Stand in front and let her suck you,” he said to Izuku.

“Uh- okay.”

The two men approached you cautiously. Todoroki was the first to act.

“I’m gonna… put my finger…”

“Yeah, go ahead,” you murmured.

His lubed up finger slowly entered you from behind as you moaned softly and rocked your hips back and forth. He slowly added another finger, stretching you out more and more.

“Are you ready now?”

“Mhm” you hummed.

As Todoroki gently pushed himself inside of you, Izuku stroked your hair and let you take him in your mouth.

“Move, motherfucker,” Katsu said, pushing Todoroki’s torso forward. He kneeled behind you and resumed where he left off, with his cock inside of you.

“Mmhph,” you moaned on Deku’s dick, and he inhaled sharply in response. From behind you, Todoroki was going at a slow pace, while Katsu was ramming his hips into yours. It felt so overwhelming, but so good at the same time. You couldn’t stop whimpering onto Izuku’s cock, and the vibrations from the sounds were quickly going to send him over the edge. But before he even came close, Katsuki’s deft fingers began to toy with your clit, and you felt another orgasm rising inside of you.

“Yes, Katsu, please, I’m going to come,” you attempted to say around Izuku.

“I can’t quite understand you, but I think I got it,” Kastu said, starting to move his fingers faster. Pleasure erupted from your clit, spreading throughout your entire body as you moaned and whimpered under your boyfriend’s still-moving fingers. Deku grabbed your hair and began to thrust in and out of your mouth, making you gag repeatedly. From behind you, Todoroki began to pick up the pace as well, slamming himself into you. You felt his dick reach places that no one had ever touched before, and you threw yourself onto him in an attempt to get him to go even deeper. After another minute or two, Izuku and Todoroki both began groaning and swearing, grabbing onto your body even tighter than before.

“Ah- yes, yes, just like that,” Deku moaned, pulling lightly on your hair. “You’re gonna make me cum, fuck.”

“Ah- me too,” Todoroki said, punctuating each word with heavy breaths.

You felt both of them release into you at the same time, swearing profusely as they did. Hot ropes of cum spurted into your mouth and asshole, and you nearly choked trying to swallow it while Deku was still pushing himself into your mouth. After a few seconds, both of them pulled away from you, covered in sweat and panting.

For the first time, Katsuki seemed to notice what was going on and stopped moving.

“Katsu?” you asked meekly. “Is something-”

“You fucking came already?” Katsuki shouted, enraged. He began pulling you into his hips again. “Fuck! I let you join us to show my baby a good time, but you can’t even last five fucking minutes? You’re fucking pathetic.”

He began to go faster as Deku’s face turned an even deeper shade of red. “Sorry, Kacchan-”

“Don’t apologize to me, you bastard! Apologize to her! You couldn’t have even lasted a few more minutes? I’ve been fucking her for twenty. Assholes. She’s come three times today. There are three of us here. Wanna know how many times you two made her come?”

He paused angrily and huffed.

“Zero! Zero fucking times! You two used her like that and didn’t even make her come? You should be fucking ashamed of yourselves.”

You started to moan again. “Katsuki- daddy- please, you feel so good. I’m sorry you- haven’t even cum yet.”

“Mhm, don’t worry baby,” he said softly. “It’s gonna be soon, now.”

He paused for a moment. “Hey! Deku! Half-and-Half Bastard! Look at her! You see how she’s a whimpering mess for me? This-” he pinched your clit, making you cry out his name. “-is what you bastards can’t do. This-” he thrust into you particularly hard. “-is why I’m allowed to call her a slut and a whore, understand? I’m not some half-assed bitch who can’t even make a girl cum and only lasts a few minutes. This is what she wants, and I’m able to give it to her. She gets what he wants, and I get to tell her how much of a whore she is for wanting it. I thought you would be able to give her that, too! You’re supposed to be strong and tough and shit, and then you pull this?”

You were a moaning mess, barely even able to move. You felt a fourth orgasm clutch at your clit again. Even the pleasure was painful, in a way, and you felt your legs trembling.

“Katsu,” you whimpered.

“I know, baby, I’m so close.” He turned his attention to the men. “I thought I told you to fucking apologize!”

“I’m- I’m sorry,” both Deku and Todoroki said hurriedly.

“You two wanna watch a real man cum?”

They both stayed silent, and Katsuki took their lack of response as a yes.

He picked up the pace again, stroking your hair and face with one hand and gripping onto your hips with the other. “You take me so well, baby. You’re such a good girl. Do you want daddy to cum?”

“Yes please,” you murmured, unable to speak any louder.

“I’m so close, baby, just hold on a little longer, okay? You’ve been so good today.”

“O-okay,” you said.

Katsuki continued to moan and grunt from behind you, occasionally pausing to plant a kiss on your lower back.

“Fuck- fuck, I’m so close,” he moaned, grabbing a fistful of your hair. “Ah- fuck- baby, finish me in your mouth.”

You quickly turned around and began to suck on Katsu’s cock, bobbing your head up and down and he guided you.

“Ah yeah, that’s it. Just a little faster, baby.”

You obliged and pushed away the suffocating feeling you were getting from having him so deep in your mouth. He was close, you reminded yourself.

“Fuck yes, fuck!” Katsuki yelled as thick lines of his cum erupted from his dick. “Fuck yeah, swallow daddy’s load.”

You swallowed and eagerly opened your mouth to show him it was gone.

“Tastes that good, huh?” he laughed, stroking your hair. “You’re so pretty when I fuck you, baby. I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you said, feeling your face get hot with embarrassment again.

Todoroki cleared his throat from the other end of the room. You saw fury flash through Katsu’s eyes again as he pulled on his boxers and tossed you his shirt to cover up with.

“You bastards don’t know how to treat a girl, do you? You think I’m going to neglect my girlfriend after all of that to talk to you idiots? You can see yourselves out if you’re uncomfortable, unless you need daddy to do it for you?” he mocked, glowering at them.

Todoroki’s face went bright red. “I-I- uh-”

“Get the fuck out of my room.”

Deku and Todoroki stepped gingerly into the hallway, casting a scared glance back at Katsu before walking away to their respective rooms.

Kastuski kneeled down next to you and began to stroke your hair again. “I’m sorry I yelled like that,” he said quietly. “I really am, I just- those assholes-”

“It’s okay, babe,” you said, wrapping him in your arms. He kissed the top of your head softly. “Katsuki?”

“What is it, darling?”

“That was fun, but… I’m glad they’re gone.”

Katsu laughed and kissed you again, this time sloppily on the lips. “I agree, baby.”

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kimnjss · 4 years ago

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how sticky | kth

⇢ pairing: ot7 x reader // taehyung focus. ⇢ genre: smut. // pwp. ⇢ word count: 7.6K ⇢ theme: established relationships. ⇢ rating: explicit. ⇢ warnings: cursing, dirty talk, poly relationship, handjobs, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), public sex, outdoor sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up lovelies), all the boys wanna kiss yn, cum inside/stuffing, slight over stimulation if you squint. ⇢ A/N: literally this idea came to me while watching the first episode and seeing tae washes the dishes sooo, here you goo!! lmao x also if it seems messy or all over the place, that’s bc i wrote this while streaming dynamite and obvi got distracted .

Namjoon is the first to spot you, just as you're tugging your suitcase from the trunk of your car. The large grin that takes over his features as he makes his way over to you, brown hair flopping in the wind with each step he takes. A silver pot held in his hands that he must've forgotten the purpose of upon setting sights on you.

“You're here.” He says with a large smile, dimples showing while he leaning down to press a soft kiss to your waiting lips. “Did you eat?”

Just with one look around the backyard, you can tell that they just finished eating. Had hoped to arrive a bit earlier so you'd be able to eat with them. “Not yet,” He looked good, as usual, but oddly more attractive in this outdoor environment.

The blue two-piece outfit, which you had quickly realized was a favorite of his, hung loosely around his body. The muscles in his arms flexed as he kept his grip on the pot in his hand. Eyes turn to half-moons with the way he was smiling at you.

It had been a few weeks since you saw them last. What with their jam packed schedule and you keeping up with the things going on in your own life, there wasn't really time to be together the way you wanted. A constant long-distance relationship with the seven of them, even if they were only a few miles away.

Which was the biggest reason you were jumping on the chance to spend this week with them. Secluded with nothing to do but be together. It had been Jin who had suggested it, finding out that you had the same week free. What better way to spend it then with your boyfriends? Agreement coming from his younger members instantly and to your surprise, the staff was quick to agree as well.

Most times riddled a distraction, but it seemed that you being here sort of fit the relaxation, recharging theme of this entire trip. Zero complaints from you, of course, you were packing your bags the moment you got the green light.

“I'll make you a plate, wait.”

All of a sudden remembering he had been in the middle of doing something before seeing you. Quick steps are taken into the house with the pot in hand and you're right behind him, marveling at the huge land they had rented out for this. All of the greens of the mountains and grass was a pretty contrast to the bright blue sky, the sparkling lake that you couldn't wait to try out.

And there was so much stuff! Placed all over the place from where you can see, each item matching a different member's personality so well that you could guess who asked for what.

Joon is coming back, hands-free, but only to grab your suitcase, wheeling it into the house. He's gone talking to whoever is in the kitchen before he's returning, arm easily wrapping around your waist as he leads you down the hill.

“You came here looking refreshed,” He notes, finally saying out loud what he had been thinking since you were pulling the suitcase from the car.

Out of all of them, Namjoon seemed to pay a lot of attention to the way you looked. And no, not just the clothes you wore and how they fit – but like deeper. He paid a lot of attention to your facial expressions more than anything, reading your demeanor as if it was his latest page-turner.

A blessing and a curse, because although he knew when something was bothering you and tried his best to fix it without you saying a word. It was also really, extremely hard to hide things for him. Not that you tried to often.

“It was a nice drive and I'm excited to spend time with you guys,” The smile that takes over your features is causing a flutter in his heart, his large hand landing on your arm that you've wrapped around his torso – walking the rest of the way like that.

Jimin is whipping around at the sound of footsteps approaching, and you're eyes are widening at the sight of him. Unwrapping yourself from Joon's body, you're rushing the rest of your steps hands outstretched to touch the edge of the gat hanging from his neck.

“You actually wore it?” Speaking through a slight giggle and he's grinning, hands finding home on your torso as he playfully rolls his eyes. “Of course I wore it, so you better deliver,”

The result of a drunk game of Truth or Dare between the two of you. He spent the entire night choosing truth, but as soon as he was picking dare you were telling him to wear his new hanbok for the first day of shooting. He was agreeing with a roll of his eyes, boasting about how easy it was.

Then on your turn, he was hitting you with that sly grin of his. 'If I wear my hanbok for shooting, then you need to let me...' Words trailing off as he suggestively wiggled his eyebrows in your direction. You were quick to put two and two together of what he wanted. And you were agreeing because of course, you wanted it too.

With a distracted nod, your eyes are shifting to the moving figure behind him. “Of course, baby. Whatever you want.” Breaking from his grasp just as Namjoon is extending the full bowl in your direction.

You thank him with a wide smile, which he acknowledges with a short nod – going back to cleaning up while you take a seat at the table. Sat eating the food that you can tell was made by Jungkook as you watch your two men move around the yard until Joon is disappearing into the house again. Someone else exiting at the same time.

“I thought I heard your voice!” There's a smile in his voice that you can detect without having to listen very hard. And you're proven right as you lift your head, being met with Hoseok's bright smile. “When'd you get here?” He wonders once he's closer, taking the empty spot beside you.

“Not too long ago,” You speak through the mouthful of food in your mouth, the words you're speaking coming out a murmured mess.

The smile on Hoseok's face only grows, his hand lifting to push his hair back on his forehead. “I missed you.” A random confession that has heat rising in your cheeks. He always did this. Knew what a few simple words did to your mind and took pleasure in making you flustered whenever possible.

This time was no different. Just three words and you were forced to put extra focus on your noodles. He missed you. Obviously, you missed him – that's a given. But the fact that he, Jung Hoseok actually missed you and was just telling you about it casually. With that smile on his face. Yeah, he knew exactly what he was doing.

“I missed you too.” A delayed reply, but he's not faltering. Doesn't even think twice about what you could have been thinking about in the time it took you to answer. Instead, he's reaching his arm to wrap around your shoulders, pulling your body into his so he's able to press a dozen chaste kisses to the top of your head.

And then just like that, he's releasing you. Not even giving you a moment to react before he's standing from his spot beside you and moving to help Jimin clean up the outside area.

After the third time, you're asked to scoot over, you're standing feeling as though you're in the way of the cleaning. So, you go to find the others that you haven't seen yet. Thanks to a FaceTime call from Jungkook while they were going through the tour, you had a pretty good understanding of the layout of this place.

Heading over the hill to the Upper House, bowl in hand. And you're grinning when you spot Jin standing out front, staring at the line of delivered groceries in front of him. “Jinnie!” You're calling with a wave of your hand, and he's turning around.

“Yn!” He calls, just as loud – waving you over with one frantic hand.

Easily speeding up your footsteps, it's not long before you're standing in front of him. Arms wrapped around his torso in a tight hug. “What are you doing?” He's out of your hold now, bending to lift the bags off the ground.

“Putting groceries away.”

Following behind him, you shovel mouthfuls of noodles into your mouth while sinking down at the island. For a little while, you're able to enjoy your meal and engage in broken chatter was Jin moves in and out of the house.

He's filling you in on all the plans he has for this trip and the things he's excited about and you listen with a smile on your face. Loving the way he looks when he's completely in his element, eyes sparkling as he talks about being able to fish with Yoongi.

Speaking of Yoongi. Sauntering out from God knows where, white tee hanging loose – revealing a bit of his chest, baggy black jeans that you've now decided is the only thing you ever want to see him in. His hair is unkempt, laying messily over his forehead and only slightly covering his eyes.

There's a smirk on his face when he notices the blatant way you're gawking at him, sinking into the seat beside you – his cold hand not hesitating to reach for your thigh. “You're here?” He speaks in the bored uninterested drawl that you've become used to. Use to read too much into it before you were realizing that just the way he talked.

Now it had the ability to have heat rushing through your veins, especially if he was using that voice when telling you just exactly he wanted to do to you. Never failed to have you basically salivating, putty for him.

“I just came...” The patterns he draws on your inner thigh stills as he lifts his eyes to look at you, a chuckle falling from his lips. “Did you?” He asks teasingly and you're too dazed to pick up on the double meaning of your words.

His hand inches further up your thigh until the tips of his fingers are just inches from reaching the hem of your mesh shorts. Without a thought, your legs are opening for him – giving him as much room as he needs to do whatever he wants.

Yoongi's grinning at your compliance, his lips are just inches for yours. He takes a moment to study your features. Lips shiny with grease, cheeks slightly flushed, eyes staring unfocused. A slow grin lifts the corners of his lips moments before he's leaning in closer.

Yoongi kisses you once as if he's testing the waters before diving in. Grip tightening on your thigh, pulling your body closer to his while he slowly moves his mouth over yours. Soft tongue slowly tracing over your lower lip and you're instantly opening up for him.

The groan that leaves his lips from the feeling of your wet muscles meeting as arousal rushing through your veins and pooling between your legs, fingers reaching to grasp the rough material of his pants for some type of grounding.

And he grins, teeth gently tugging at your lower lip as his hand slides up your thigh toward your waist. So sure he's fingers are about to sneak underneath your shirt, so you giddily wait for the contact.

But it never comes. "Would you let the girl breathe, she just got here." Is what you hear.

Jimin, into the Upper House to change into something comfortable. And all too ready to scold his Hyung for trying something with you when it hasn't even been an hour. With a roll of those dark eyes of his, Yoongi is leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips – much different from what he had initially planned.

Moment ruined, he's standing from his spot beside you. “I'm gonna go help Jin,” He announces to no one in particular, cheeks darkened with pink from having been caught. Yoongi talked a big game, but he was the most private out of the boys. Wasn't one for an unwarranted audience and preferred to have you to himself rather than sharing you.

“Tae's washing dishes if you're done with that.” He's jutting his chin out to point at your empty bowl on the island. As he speaks, he undoes the tie of his top letting it sag at his shoulders before he's shrugging it off. And you watch his fingers carefully, allowing your mind to wander to just how skilled he was with those fingers.

Playing the same notes for the past eight years on the piano wasn't the only thing he was good at. It's a moment before you register his words enough to stand to your feet, plucking your plate up and exiting the Upper House to find Taehyung.

Back to you as he scrubs the inside of the bowl, you watch as his hips sway to whatever song he's got going in his head. No idea that you're entering the kitchen or that you've arrived – just in his own world.

Taehyung looks handsome even from the back.

His broad shoulders were still visible underneath the brown top that was just so him. He wore a pair of olive green shorts, giving you a perfect view of his strong legs and the way they flexed with the movement of his feet. Thoroughly riled up from Yoongi's interrupted touches from before, you're struck with a very mischievous thought.

Light steps are taken in Taehyung's direction, quickly setting your bowl in the sink before reaching your arms to wrap around his waist. Palms sneaking underneath the fabric of his shirt so you're able to touch his soft belly. You feel him still against you, taking a moment to put together that it's you back hugging him like this.

He's turning just enough so he can look down at you, a large smile spread across his lips as his eyes take in your face that looks brighter for some reason. “How long have you been there?” Tae tries to hug you back but gives up because of the awkward position.

“Not long,” You answer, nose pressed in the dip of his back after he's turned. Your lips place soft kisses against his covered back, the tips of his fingers brushing over the skin of his stomach. “I missed you.”

And you had. There was just something about Taehyung that drove you crazy with little to no effort. Had to be his aura. The way he carried himself. The unreadable expression that always decorated his features. How he was able to smile with his entire face, pulling large smiles on the lips of the people around him.

All of that and the simple fact of how well the boy could fuck. Of course, all of the guys knew how you make you feel good. All in their own ways, different and unique and still good. But Taehyung. Fuck, Kim Taehyung. A living Sex God, with a thick long cock that he knew how to use. Long fingers that could bring you to climax over and over again with very little time in between. And that mouth. God, that mouth.

Porn stars would blush at the dirty things that came out of that boy's mouth.

Taehyung's eyebrow is lifting at the mindless way your fingers are dipping lower down his body, flinching just slightly when the tips of your fingers are grazing his quickly hardening cock. “That type of missed me, huh?” He's grinning, you can tell without having to see his face.

Head nodding slightly, you continue placing gentle kisses against his back – fingers drawing teasing lines over his cock through the fabric of his shorts. “Don't be a tease,” He hisses.

His wet, glove covered hand is wrapping around your wrist – forcing more of his cock underneath your palm. A soft moan falls from your lips at the feeling of it twitching with the new friction. Tae's hips rock slowly with the movement of your hand, half of his attention still on the dishes he washes.

And you pout. Want to turn his mind to mush like he's done to you many times before. Until the only thing he can think about is you and how you're making him feel. Fuck the dishes.

Even on your tiptoes, you're only able to reach the nape of his neck. But it's the first bit of bare skin you're able to press your lips against so you settle for it. Leaving open mouth kisses on it while your fingers slowly make their way underneath the waistband of his shorts.

Pleased to find he had decided to forego underwear, you're instantly met with the warmth of his shaft. A low cruse falling from his lips when your cool palm is wrapping around him. And you hold it there. Waiting to hear the scoff that falls from his lips as he starts to rock his hips again – his cock sliding through your grip easily.

The sound of his breathy groans fills the kitchen, egging you on. You can feel him growing harder in your hand and the slow drag of his hips is quickly driving you crazy until you're giving in to the tiny game you were playing and moving your hand.

“Oh, fuck.” Tae hisses, the dish he had been holding crashing into the sink as his fists reach to grip the edge of the sink. Voice gruff and it's usual deep, it has a wash of arousal flooding your body and fueling your movements. Free hand lifting to grasp his hipbone, holding him steady as you bring your hand up toward his tip.

A simple swipe of your thumb over his bulbous has a shiver running down his spine and a grin pulling on your lips. Strokes on his shaft speeding up as the sound of his breathy groans tickled your ears. Hips stuttering underneath your grasp in an attempt to take more than what you were willing to give him.

Always so greedy.

“Does it feel good?” Voice hushed where he can just barely hear.

Taehyung is quick to nod his head, though. “Your hand feels so good on me, Yn. Faster,” He whines, something that you're not quite used to hearing from him. Especially over a simple handjob.

He must've missed you a lot more than he was willing to admit.

And because your soul purpose is to give Taehyung any and everything he asks for, you're rubbing down on him quicker, squeezing him a bit harder. His cock twitches and jumps in your hold and you're fastened by the effect you have on him that your grip on his hip is loosening – allowing him to freely roll his hips upward.

A strong arm is reaching back while his body twists, large glove covered hand tangled in your hair to hold your head steady. For the first time, you're getting a good look at his face. Eyes blown and unfocused, his cheeks flushed and lips bitten. He looks so sexy staring at you as if it's taking all his restraint not to devour you.

The way he leans in, crashing his lips into yours for a sloppy hungry kiss only validates your thoughts. Grip tightening in your hair to hold your head still while his tongue tickles the roof of your mouth.

You try, desperately, to keep your focus on the movement of your hand. Letting him lick into your mouth and kissing him just as much as you can without completely losing your mind. Taehyung, like his six other teammates, worked really well with his mouth. In all ways.

He's nibbling on your lower lip, harsh breaths exiting his nostrils as your thumb runs over the underside of his cock. So close and you can tell from the now frantic roll of his hips. And you're more than ready to bring him there, loved watching him fall apart for you, because of you.

More than ready to have him explode in your palm so you can like it up when the sharp knock on the glass behind you is stilling your movements. Head turning to peak behind you, but Taehyung does stop his head tilting so he's able to suck wet hickeys into your warm skin.

Hoseok stands on the other side of the door, looking extremely impatient. You move to pull your hand from his pants, but Taehyung is quick to grasp your wrist. “Yn, I swear to God.” He speaks through gritted teeth and you're flashing a bright smile up at him.

“It's Hobi,” There's another knock on the glass, “He can't just stand out there,” Laughing, you manage to wiggle yourself out of Taehyung's grasp. He watches you with squinted eyes as you pull the door open for his Hyung.

Cued in on what had been keeping you, a teasing smirk plays on his lips. “What? You're just in here giving Taehyungie all the attention?” Both hands knit into your hair from underneath, slowly closing the space between you two.

“He's working hard in here,” You defend with a slight pout. Upon realizing he wasn't going to be getting off any time soon, Tae turns his attention back to the dishes. Scrubbing the gunk off with much for strength than needed, quiet grumbles leaving his lips.

“I worked hard too, cleaned up outside all by myself. What do I get?” Lips a mere inches from yours, all you'd have to do was lift up onto your tiptoes to feel their softness. “I saw Jiminie helping you.”

Hoseok is rolling his eyes at the slight detail. You're teasing him, he can tell from the way you're gripping his shirt in your fists. Like you're desperate to feel him but at the same time seeing how much you can hold back.

What you failed to realize was, he was much better at teasing than you. Without a second thought, he's leaning down to press his lips against yours. Kiss much different from Taehyung's. More controlled. More intense. Strong hands reach for your thighs, easily lifting your body off of the floor and setting you to sit on the countertop.

He's taking up space between your legs, large hands set on your thighs while he sucks your lower lip into his mouth. You can feel the smirk that plays on his lips from the sound of your moan.

Hoseok responds by reaching back to give your ass a firm squeeze, pulling your body toward his. He's hard. You can feel it through the fabric of his neon shorts, but the moment you're angling your hips to feel more of him – he's pulling back.

“Jimin should finish up, hm?” Recalling your earlier comment with a teasing glint in his eye. Planting a soft kiss to your lips, he backs away attention now on Namjoon who had entered with a bag of groceries. As if nothing had happened.

Body buzzing and senses fogged, you're left to wonder just how many times you'd be denied the release you craved.

The two men chatted amongst each other mindlessly, surveying the contents of the fully stalked fridge in front of them. Joon is pulling a bottle of coffee from the bunch, handing it over to you with a soft smile before twisting the cap on his own. You watch as he wraps his plump lips around the edge, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows the liquid down.

Plopping down on the soft red cushion, you watch as Joon moves to offer Tae a sip of his drink. Which he's denying with a pout of his lips. From where you're sitting, you can see that his bulge has gone down a bit – but the foggy need for sexual release stays. You know the feeling. Had half the mind to get on your knees for him right then and there, not like either of them would complain.

They did share you, at times. And those were the times that you secretly hoped for each time you were being interrupted with one of them. But, all of them were so different from their interests and really liked the idea of being alone with you – it didn't happen as often as you'd like.

You could simply suggest it and no doubt they'd agree to the idea. Ready to do whatever you asked to fill your desire. But you liked the surprise of not knowing just when you'd be taking two cocks, or three, or maybe even four. All seven if the weather was right. The suspense had a great effect on you.

Jimin is entering the main house just as halfway through drinking your chilled coffee. Fully changed out of his hanbok, standing in a pair of loose-fitting black shorts and a white SAINT LAURENT tee. Dark hair floppy messily at the top of his head, evident that he's been running his fingers through it.

He looked good enough to eat and if he kept looking at you with those bedroom eyes, you were about to do just that. Beeline made in your direction, settling in the spot beside you. An innocent hand lands on your thigh and your brain short circuits, registering it as anything but.

Without a word, he's reaching for your bottle, taking a long sip from it before licking the drip from his lips. “Where's Kookie?” You ask, forcing your thoughts not to wander too much. And realizing you had yet to see that bunny smile of his, hear the cute way he say's 'Noona' as he wobbles in your direction.

The same age as Namjoon which made you older than Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook – yet Jungkook was the only one out of the three that actually referred to you as Noona. No matter how many times you'd tell him to speak comfortably with you, he'd refuse with blushed and a shake of his head.

The others believed he got off on it, the subtle reminder that you were older than him but he was still able to turn you to make you fall apart with the simple flex of his thigh. “You haven't seen him?” Hoseok speaks with his head inches deep in the fridge and you shake your head despite the fact he cannot see you.

“He’ll come running the moment he hears you're here,” Deciding that your drink is his now, Jimin stands from his spot beside you heading further into the house. Steps cut off by Jungkook turning the corner, as if on cue.

“What!?” A large grin on his lips as his sparkling eyes land on you. Soft hair bouncing as he skips over to you, leaning over the counter so you're face to face. Tattooed hand reaching forward to enclose the back of your neck, gently pulling you forward until your foreheads are touching. “You didn't tell me you were here, Noona.” Eyebrow arched and head tilted to the side.

You can barely see his face with how close you are to it, but there's no doubt that he looks attractive as hell right now in his attempt to be intimidating. Lower lip poking out in a slight plea, “I'm sorry, baby. I was asking about you, though.”

Jungkook only half listens to your words. Some space put between you and he takes advantage of that by allowing his eyes to take in your appearance greedily. Aware of the warmer temperature, you had decided a simple v-neck crop top would suffice. From this angle, he could see straight down your top. And he was doing very little to hide the fact that he was looking, respectfully.

“I'm sure you can think of some ways to make it up to me. Right, Noona?” Hand slipping from the back of your neck, the tips of his fingers brushing over the collar of your shirt. Lips suddenly dry, your tongue is jutting out to wet them. Thighs squeeze together instinctively at the promise his words held.

A contrast to his demeanor, Jungkook is placing a sweet kiss on your lips. One that lingers for a second shorter than you want, but the small smile on his lips upon pulling away is enough to make your heart melt.

All at once, he's releasing you and moving on to follow Jimin out of the kitchen. Taehyung is finishing up he dishes at the same moment, shaking his hands of the water droplets before wiping the excess onto his shorts.

Alone in the room with him again and you feel the atmosphere shift as soon as his eyes settle on you. Finally able to get a good look at you and taking in just how short your shorts are and how thin the material of your top is. But Taehyung is a gentleman when he wants to be.

His hand rests on your back, the tips of his fingers brushing against the bare skin your shirt leaves exposed. “Want to go for a walk?” Teeth biting into his plump lower lip. Instantly, you're sliding from your seat head nodding at his words.

Taehyung's arms wrap around your waist, pulling your body into his chest and you just faintly see the grin on his face before you're being enveloped in his sweet scent. Guided steps are taken into the game room where Namjoon sits, a laugh leaving his lips at the weird way the two of you are walking.

“What are you making?”

“A boat,” Joon says with a wide smile, lifting the plastic boat to show you. Cutie. Impatient, Taehyung is pushing his hips forward into yours. Even through the layers and with the small fact that he's not exactly hard at the moment – you can still feel his bulge against your ass cheek.

But he doesn't stop there, slowly dragging his hips up so you can feel his entire length. A strangled gasp is leaving your lips that has Taehyung smirking, Namjoon too focused on whether or not he just broke his model, doesn't notice.

Arms tightening around your waist, Taehyung takes a step forward – urging you to do the same.

When Tae said he wanted to take you on a walk, he wasn't speaking in sexual innuendos. You had actually gone for a walk around the land. Hand in hand making comfortable chatter as you soaked in the nice weather.

Somehow, you managed to convince yourself that he hadn't been itching to get you alone to fuck you – but really just wanted to spend some time alone with you. It's sweet when you think about it. The gentle way he's talking to you about the nervousness that surrounds working on his new mixtape. His soft thumb brushing over your knuckles as you assure him that everything will turn out alright.

It's not until you're reaching the picnic table just a few feet from the water, is he wrapping his arm around your hips. Lifting you from the ground as if you weighed nothing and setting you down on the table.

Blunt nails lightly dragging over the back of your knees as he gently spreads your legs so he's able to stand in the middle of them. He's easily hooking your legs around his waist, ankles instantly locking to pull him closer to you. “You know what I want to do right now?”

“What?” You humor him, even though you could probably guess. Arms lifting to wrap around his neck, head tilting to the side as a slight smirk plays on your lips. His mouth hovers over your ear, wet brushing over the shell of it as he speaks.

“Wanna taste that sweet little cunt. Bet you're already soaked from all the attention you've been getting.” To prove his point, Tae's fingers trail up between your thighs. Your body shudders as he drags a single digit over your slit through the fabric.

He wasn't wrong, had started to feel the heat pool between your legs when Yoongi first kissed you. Mind driving you insane with being able to be with them for this entire week. All of them. It was safe to say it had gotten to you in a very obvious way.

Not one to tease, Taehyung is using his long fingers to push both your shorts and panties to the side so his fingers can press against your bare skin. A surprised gasp leaving your lips with the nudge on your clit, hips bowing toward him. He grins.

“Gonna be a good girl for me?” He's a little breathless, but his fingers never falter. A single digit slipping past your folds and pushing through your walls. “Shit.” He chuckles at the enthusiastic way you nod your hand, tongue rolling over his lips before biting down. “Yeah? Gonna cum all sloppy on my tongue, baby? Let me hear you.”

At the end of his words, his thumb is pressing into your clit, rolling it around lazily as his finger moves slowly inside of you. “Y-yes-” Words breaking on a loud whine, he slows his fingers – waiting. “Wanna cum on your tongue, Tae... p-please.” Hips lifting to rock into his hand but he's pulling back, leaving you feeling empty.

It doesn't last long because he's quick with lifting your leg. Fingers wet with your arousal and wrapped around your thigh, bringing it up to his shoulder. Tae lowers himself to his knees in front of you, at the same time pushing the useless material aside before diving in.

Taehyung watches you through his long eyelashes while dragging his tongue along your folds. Always loved the way you looked when he was between your legs. The way you tried to keep your eyes open to watch him, biting your lip in an attempt to keep quiet, fingers tangling in his hair – holding him close. Hot.

Tongue dragging up to flick against your clit, Taehyung reaches for your other ankle. Lifting your leg over his shoulder so he's completely enclosed by your legs. Plush lips wrap around your bundle of nerves, sucking gently while he's pushing two fingers past your walls.

“Oh! Tae, fuck...” Panting at this point, grip in his hair used to pull him tighter against you. His free hand reaching around to sneak underneath the hem of your shorts, palming your ass while pulling you closer. Fingers angled to brush against the sweet spot inside of you, loving the way you squirm underneath him.

Just faintly, you can see the outline of his hard cock through his shorts. Straining against the fabric begging for some attention. Having you spread out for him, hearing those pretty moans fall from your lips is enough to drive anyone mad. And it doesn't help that Tae's been waiting for this for weeks.

Sharp teeth nip at your clit just as he's pushing another finger inside of you. “Taehyung!” You're crying out, in half pleasure – but also a warning. If he continued like this you'd be cumming before even getting to feel him inside of you.

“Close, baby?” His words are delivered into your throbbing cunt, sending vibrations through your body that has your back arching. Fingers tightening in his hair as you grind your hips desperately into him.

So close you can practically taste it, no longer able to worry about not being able to feel him. Just chasing your release. A breathy chant of 'keep going' falling from your lips as you hold his head in place.

Heat spreads throughout your body, a dull ache starting in your core and spreading throughout your body. Walls clenched so tight around his fingers that it's almost hard for him to pull back, so he doesn't, instead pushes deeper – pressing all three fingers against your sweet spot. In that exact moment, his lips are wrapping around your clit, sucking harshly and you feel the band snap.

Body tightening and legs shaking as incoherent curses fall from your lips. Taehyung watches your pretty eyes roll back, head tipping too. And once he's sure you're at the peak of your climax, he's pulling his fingers from inside of you and standing to his feet. Quick with fishing his cock from inside his shorts, you just barely notice the absence before you're being filled again.

A drawn-out whine falls from your lips at the new stretch, a thick groan from his from the tight squeeze. The wetness from your release makes it easy for him to move, though and he's thankful – too eager to wait longer than a few seconds to have you.

Your fingers struggle to find something to grasp as he ruts against you in an almost brutal pace. Each snap of his hips pushing your body further up on the table, only for him to drag you back down toward him. Loud cries and incoherent sentences fall from your lips that you're sure anyone in a 50-mile radius could put together what the two of you are doing.

Taehyung loves it, though. It's like fuel to his ever-growing ego. Chants of his name falling from your pretty lips, nails clutching at the fabric of his shirt as you beg for him. Just the knowledge he's able to make someone like you, like this. Yeah, he loves it.

“Fuck. This greedy little cunt,” He nearly grunts, eyes flashing up to take in your fucked out expression. His thumb is easily finding your clit through the wet mess between your legs, rubbing it slowly. “You wanna cum again? All over my cock this time?”

A frantic bob of your head and a whiny 'please' is prompting him to reach for your hips. Easily, he's lifting your body from the table, securing your legs around his waist. His hips rut against yours with much more fervor in this standing position. And you attempt to meet his thrusts but you're so delirious that all you can manage is a lazy bounce.

Arms wrapped around his neck and face buried in the crook of his neck, your walls squeeze around him as you feel the pressure build in your stomach again. Sloppy, wet kisses sucked into his skin. Teeth scraping against the tanned flesh before you're crying out your orgasm, body shaking in his arms.

You're positive if it weren't for the rough grip he has on your ass, you'd be sprawled out on the floor from the power of it. Taehyung fucks you through the entire thing, not slowing down until he feels his own release approaching, just second after yours. Thighs tightening and thrust becoming sloppy while he pulls your body down tighter against his.

The feeling of his thick ropes of cum coating your insides has your senses waking up, that paired with the slow drag of his cock inside of you has your legs stiffening again. Hips rocking slowly against his as another tiny orgasm washes over you. So small Taehyung wouldn't have noticed it if he hadn't been paying attention – but of course, he was.

“Did you just cum again?” He says with a laugh, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Lips sucked into your mouth to hide the sheepish grin that fought to take over your features. “It felt good... you cumming, inside.”

A triumphant grin takes over his features and he's leaning down to press a lingering kiss to your lips. “Let's keep it in then,” He's mumbling against your mouth and you're not sure what he means until he's pulling out – fingers quick to meet your entrance, pushing his cum back inside of you.

Body twitching with overstimulation, but you let him stuff you with his cum, not able to deny how hot it was. Especially the look of concentration on his face, careful not to miss a drop. Once he's satisfied, he's secured your shorts back in place patting his hand over your crotch playfully.

“You better keep it in there, too. Gonna fuck it out of you later,” He promises with a large grin, head tilting up to nibble at your jaw. He's got one hand resting on the curve of your ass, the other gripping your thigh. Zero plans to put you down any time soon, loving the way you're wrapped around him.

He'd stay like this with you forever if he wasn't for the distance shout he's hearing from the main house. Trying to ignore it and praying that you don't hear it, but as it grows louder your ears are perking up.

“Taehyung-ah!” It's Namjoon's voice and you're immediately pulling back when you register it. “Think Joon is looking for us,” You say through a giggle, the kisses he's leaving on your skin starting to tickle.

“He'll give up.” Tae murmurs, trailing a wet line of kisses down the length of your neck. And you almost agree with him, but you hear Namjoon call again and figure it would be best to just go see what he wants. So, despite Taehyung's reluctance, you're unwrapping your legs from around him.

“Or we can go see what's up.” Taehyung's changing his tune once he's realizing you weren't going to change yours.

His arm is easily sliding around your waist, pulling your body into his as the two of you make your way back into the main house. It's a little weird walking with his cum stuffed inside of you. Like a subtle heaviness between your legs that you just barely go without noticing. And if you moved too fast you could feel a bit of it start to trickle out, forcing you to pay much more attention to your movements than usual.

When the two of you are reaching the sliding door, it's locked. Your other six men are sat in the room, snickers falling from their lips with one look at your frazzled state and the fact that you're locked out.

“Ooh, what were you guys doing out there?” You can hear Hoseok's teasing tone through the glass. As if it weren't obvious. As if they didn't hear what you guys were doing out there.

Taehyung doesn't miss a beat, hand dropping down to grasp your ass. “Stuffed her full of my cum.” He says with a wide grin that has hollers of amusement falling from their lips. “Tae!” You're gasping, face heating up as you lift your arm to punch at his shoulder.

“What it's true?” Sparkling eyes turned to you, lips shaped in a soft pout that you'd lean up and kiss if you weren't sure it'd have a glob of his cum rolling down your leg.

Namjoon, your perfect little angel, is the one to pull the door open. And you're thanking him as you walk past, carefully taking the vacant spot beside Jungkook. “Do you really have cum in you, Noona?” He wonders. Eyes dark while a curious hand reaches to brush over the waistband of your shorts.

“Only a little bit,” Fingers lifting to just barely pinch your fingers together to show him. “Prove it,” He says with a tad bit of playfulness in his tone, tugging at your shorts just slightly.

You have half the mind to do just that. The thought lingering in your mind long enough for both Hoseok and Yoongi to notice. Intrigued, Hobi waits to see if you'll actually do it – but Yoongi speaks up before the tension can grow any thicker.

“We're choosing rooms,” Changing the subject completely acting as if an eight-way orgy wasn't just on the table. “Oh, right!” Joon, who had been subtly watching to see if you take Kook's dare is all of a sudden the reason he had gathered everyone.

A few moments are granted for conversation to bounce around the room, choosing where they'll sleep for the next seven days. And once they've settled their arrangements, attention is back on you – but for an entirely different reason now.

“Noona can share the floating house with me,” Jungkook is saying with a wide grin, keying you in on the fact that this conversation had been going on a bit longer than you had been paying attention.

With a quick nod of your head, you're assuring the young boy that you'll share the room with him. “I figured I'd just bounce around? If you guys don't care.” Much easier that way, whoever wanted you to spend the night in the room – you would. But to keep things tidy, you'd keep your stuff in the floating house with Jungkook.

“Of course we don't care-” Jin starts, but his words are being cut off by Taehyung's haste. “My room first!” Hand raised in a cute schoolboy raised, the look that he pins you with washes all remnants of the word cute out of your mind, though.

With a thick roll of his eyes, Namjoon's standing. “If she wants to. You choose, baby.” His attention now on you and the pet name has shivers running down your spine. There was just something about the way Joon called you 'baby' that had you keening.

He doesn't act on it, though. Not right now. And neither do you. One by one, they each break off to do their own thing until dinner time. You find yourself following Jin out to the dock after hearing he was going to fish for a little bit. You had gone on quite a few fishing trips with him, never did it but liked to keep him company when he went.

It's hard to ignore how at ease you feel here, with them. Not a single worry in mind in this secluded spot with your favorite guys. Where they're able to be themselves and be with you and be happy. Thankful that you were able to join them. And so ready to be apart of the memories this next week holds.

No matter how sticky.

- seven days in the forest spent with your seven boyfriends while they film their upcoming reality tv show. there’s no telling what the eight of you will get into when the cameras are off.

masterlist ⤐

⇝ taglist: @randomkoalablog @smoljams @dee-ehn @jaiuneamesolitaiire @hehehehahahohohuhu @sw33tnight @butterflylion @withlovestudyblr @soulstaes @bangtansonyeondayyyum @samros95 @korkanswers @houseofarmanto @marifujioka @tae165 @uxwi @jinhitwhore @preciouschimine @yeontanie21 @aa-ronpa @taefect94 @lee-karliah @codeinebelle @mochibabycakes @diminieshoe @fuddyize @soloikeadates @0xmysticx0 @bbyjoonies @amoreguk @tricethecharm @diminieshoe @jayyayyy17 @softlyjins @bangtan-noona @fan-ati--c @fuck-expectations-people @paradisetaemin @nyamjinnie @lilacdreams-00 @vsugakookie0104 @koostime @la-evforia @betysotelo18 @chocobetterknot @simplysanha @delicategukkie @kookieswithtaeq @jeon-ggukkie @angjeon @bangtansbun @flamboyant-louie @elliemeetsevil @angiexyoung @stonyiscanon @strawberryforever25 @mipetronella @rageyoudamnednerd @hellotherehoneybee @joonies-babyy @mypurplelamp @jikooksgirl19 @sushi-date-ghost @bigimpression @kookiesjoonies @amour-quinn @diamonddia-mond @alterlovess @gemad08 @daydreambrliever @acc3ssdenied @silentlyimpractical @bella-victoria002 @ashleyjoyx @yoooonie @diamonddia-mond @btsbed @sungieshines @thia-aep @taeshuworld @hopiebabie @trynavibewhileicry @illwritetomorrow @kookoo-kachoo @prettxyliies @triviasjms @ratking101 @elephantdoors @feel-like-gold @kelitt @itsponybeaches @alpaca1612 @jeonkookiebangtan @rather-not-sayy @kimsouthjoon @beeeb05 @dreamcatcherjiah @yoongiverse

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wri0thesley · 4 years ago

Note

nat something about toji drives me absolutely feral, can i have a scenario or something where he meets reader at a bar and they have a steamy one night stand i don’t know i just want this beeg beefy dilf to absolutely ruin my puthy (fem reader please!)

anon, i really hope you have a corruption kink

Favourite (So Far) - Toji x Fem!Reader (5k)

Toji sees you sitting alone at a bar; all quiet and soft and unsure, and absolutely begging to be ruined - and he decides he can help with that.

warnings: afab reader, fem pronouns. not sfw, mentions of murder. corruption kink, virgin reader, dacryphilia, fingering, coming inside, dirty talk.

Toji normally doesn’t bother lingering after he’s held up his end of the bargain, but the money is burning a hole in his pocket and the minute he’d left the body of the man he’d been hired to kill locked in the back office of the bar, he’d remembered you.

He estimates he’s got a good half an hour before anyone realises the man is dead. If they’d wanted him to clear up after himself, they should have written it in the contract – still, with how awkward you’d looked and how your eyes kept darting about the place, Toji is pretty sure he’ll have you away from the bar and with his arm around your waist in . . . ooh, ten minutes? Fifteen, at a push.

He knows your type.

You’re uncomfortable, watching your friends go off and flirt and dance – pulling at your skirt (you’re uncomfortable in that, too), tugging your thin shirt up to cover your chest, ordering something non-alcoholic and looking morosely at it. Your eyes avoiding when men try and catch your gaze, your posture tensing – he’s pretty certain that you do not want to be here, and Toji is going to offer you an alternative that he thinks you might prefer.

You don’t notice him until he’s right beside you (people never do), leaning in against your ear, one of his arms slapping on the bar beside you, caging you in on your barstool. You start, moving back, blinking your pretty eyes at him in clear surprise, your mouth a soft ‘o’ – ah. Toji can tell you’re the kind of girl who isn’t used to male attention, who doesn’t think that you’re anything special. Shy. Probably untouched-- he’s grinning at you, and he doesn’t miss the little swallow, the flash of interest in your eyes (girls like you always like the idea of getting involved in something a little dangerous)--

“Can I buy you a drink, sweetheart?”

The voice is rough and low and dark, startling you from your reverie. Your friends have all, indeed, long gone – after sighing at you that you’re no fun, that they shouldn’t have asked you to come out with them anyway – you’re surprised by the man it belongs to, all raven hair and piercing green eyes and a scar on his lip that your eyes can’t help but trace the line of – how does somebody end up with a scar like that?

“Oh,” you bluster, feeling embarrassed and unsure by the way he’s looking at you, the easy way he throws out the pet name, the casual authority he’s emanating by how you’ve been caged. “I’m-- I don’t really--”

He chuckles.

“Me neither,” he says. “Lemme get you somethin’ soft, then--”

It would be easier, he thinks, if you had agreed – if you’d been softened a little bit by the buzz of alcohol. Still, he knows that what he gives off is heady enough that you’ll come with him anyway – he doesn’t drink himself, so he’s not exactly going to blame you for wanting to keep your wits about you. Smart thing, for all of how vulnerable you look in a short skirt and high heels and a low-cut top. He’s ordered something for you before you can refute – you can’t deny to yourself that it’s nice. It’s nice to have someone be interested in you. It’s nice, too, that said someone is rugged and six foot something with corded veins and muscle in thick biceps and forearms.

You’re staring at him, and Toji allows it, letting his own gaze crawl across your pretty face, your body, the way the cheap lights of this dive are picking out the shine in your eyes and the gloss of your lipstick.

“What’s a cute little thing like you doin’ on her own somewhere like this?” He asks you, lifting the glass to his lips. You try not to stare at them, though your stomach is twisting. You shrug, awkwardly.

“I got dragged here by some friends,” you say, inclining your head towards the dance-floor, where your friends are very much living up to their earlier assertion that they were going to have a wild time and if you weren’t going to join in, then you could just wallow in your misery.

“Ah,” he raises his eyebrows, eyes briefly brushing over where you’d indicated before returning to you. Something about the way that those eyes are pinning you like a butterfly to a cork board makes you squirm, heat curling in your lower belly. Nobody has ever looked at you like that before. This man is staring at you like he wants to take you apart, and it’s exhilarating. “You not the dancin’ sort, huh?” Another swallow. The bob in his throat is mesmerising. “Can’t blame ya. Pretty thing like you’s probably inundated with attention the minute y’get out there--”

You laugh, softly, heat rising to your cheeks. Toji can’t help but think how cute that is – you’re so obviously unaware of yourself. When he gets you on your back, he knows you’ll have that certain kind of naivety that never fails to get him hard and aching in his pants; wide eyes and bitten lips and breath dying in your throat at the touch of his teeth and hands and cock.

“Nothing like that,” you say, “I just--”

Your eyes catch something. Toji looks too, as you’re interrupted by a pretty girl tottering up to you both in an even shorter skirt and even higher heels. Her eyes linger on Toji, a fraction too long, before she turns to you and pouts and says your name, making you wince. There’s a whining tone to her voice.

She’s complaining that someone’s spilt a drink over her, and Toji sees now that her expensive-looking shirt is stained dark brown. He hadn’t noticed the scent of beer wafting from her because of the overall air of the bar is absolutely saturated in it, but now that she’s right there . . . he wrinkles his nose.

“You have to come home with me, nobody else will,” she tugs on your arm. “And you said you weren’t having fun anyway, so you can always stay there, but I need to change out of this--”

There’s a world-weary quality in your eyes. Something that suggests to Toji that you’re used to being the designated person to take care of your friends, to dropping things to clean up after them – those big eyes and the downturn of your mouth and the softness of your voice all suggest to him that maybe part of the reason you’re so demure, so . . . innocent . . . is because you haven’t had a chance to explore anything else.

Toji drapes a thick arm around your shoulders. You jump at the contact – but almost as if it’s against your will, you nestle into him. Closer to him. A prey animal knows when it’s being protected, after all – even if it doesn’t know, yet, that he’s the predator.

“We’re a bit busy here,” he says, keeping his tone affable with a knife-sharp edge. The girl opens her mouth, as if she’s going to protest – but Toji grins, his eyes darkening, his mouth tilting to show just a little bit too much teeth. He lets himself draw himself up a little taller, so that his breadth and his height and the taut muscles beneath his tight shirt are unarguable. Your friend falters, shoots you a look, and then shrugs.

“F-fine,” she says, “I’ll go on my own--”

She walks away, pouting, storm clouds rising off of her. You’re trembling imperceptibly (adorable) – he thinks this might be the first time you’ve ignored one of your friends. Eager to please little thing, he supposes – the kind of person who wants to be liked and will do almost anything to keep it that way, with big doe eyes and a trembling lip and your chest thrust out unconsciously.

Oh, he will ruin you, and you’ll thank him for it afterwards.

“Sorry if I’m oversteppin’ my boundaries there,” he says to you, and you look at him with your eyes big and wide and wet your lips, his cock giving an answering throb. You breathe very softly;

“N-no, thank you, it’s . . . it’s nice to not have to deal with them, for once--”

Toji leans further into you, his arm not leaving your shoulders – close enough that his breath tickles the shell of your ear, and your brain short-circuits at a handsome older man leaning so close and intimately to you.

“You don’t wanna stay here, though, do ya?” His other hand is suddenly on your leg, calloused fingertips brushing the soft skin of your thigh. Your heart skips a beat, your body reacting – threads of heat sewing themselves into knots between your thighs. “You wanna split?”

His eyes do not stray to the clock behind the bar, but he estimates it’s been about eleven minutes. Longer than he was expecting, but – as you bite your lip and stand up, letting his fingertips drag dangerously close to the part of you between your legs, Toji decides it’s worth it.

His place is nothing special. For a man as well-paid as he is, you’d expect something a little classier, maybe – but for a man with the kind of profession Toji Fushiguro has, he doesn’t spend much time in it. He’s too busy travelling to care about it beyond anything other than a place to crash, eat, and bring home his conquests. And you don’t seem disgusted by it as he pushes you roughly into the room, arm locking around your waist, mouth dipping to taste you – so Toji doesn’t worry about it too much.

You’re still trembling against him, your entire body thrumming with energy that you’re not used to – but that all works to his advantage. It works to the advantage of directing you into his room, until your back hits the bed with a soft ‘whoomph’ of air and Toji is kneeling over you, your eyes big and wide and blown as they look up at him.

You’d been so easy to convince back here. You’d made a couple of quiet whispers about how you shouldn’t, the way that good girls like you do – but his fingers had cupped your cheek and his body had pressed against yours and he’d smiled that dangerous knife-edge smile and you’d been putty in his hands, trembling kneed and so very adaptable as you’d walked beside him with your breath unsteady in your chest at your own daring.

Now, though, with a man’s bed behind you and a man’s cock digging into your stomach where he has you caged underneath him, things are beginning to feel far more real. You take another shuddering breath, not meeting his eyes as you whisper;

“I—I haven’t--”

Oh, fuck. If you knew what those little words did to him – if you could have heard the monster roaring in his chest at how excited he was that he’d not only get to utterly ruin you, but to get to be the first one to do it . . . He’d let himself hope, based on your way of holding yourself all demure and prim, that you’d be a virgin, but to hear it from your own lips with your skin rapidly heating up under the confession.

“That’s alright, sweetheart,” Toji practically coos at you, as his big fingers go to your shirt, tugging it off with expert precision. “I ain’t gonna break you—”

(Well. Not in any way you aren’t going to beg for.)

Breath caught in your throat as your bra is unclipped, the lacy garment dropped onto the floor. His own shirt follows – you can barely stop yourself ogling him, the firm abdominal muscles, the scars across his pectorals. You can tell, based on how many scars he’s bearing, just how dangerous the man above you must be.

The one like a starburst is a bullet scar, you’re pretty sure. The one wrapping around his side is too big to be anything but a knife or a sword – this is a man involved in something dangerous, something shady – and even that isn’t enough to get you to ask him to stop.

Staring down at your newly exposed breasts, Toji can’t resist leaning in; sucking one of your nipples into his mouth, dragging his teeth across the sensitive bud, lapping at it until your back arches and you whimper so prettily that it goes straight through him and straight to his cock. The wet kisses trail back up to your neck, blunt teeth tugging at your skin, sucking quickly stinging bruise marks into the skin so that everybody will know what this cute little virgin was up to last night--

A rough tug to your earlobe makes you moan. A nip to your lower lip makes you practically mewl. And his rough fingertips pushing up your skirt to your waist, letting his fingers dig into your plush thighs so hard that there’s no way you won’t be marked with fingerprints tomorrow – that makes you whine.

“You like bein’ pushed around a little bit, cutie?” The pet name, again, has blood rushing to your face and heat rushing to between your legs. You’re suddenly so very aware of how slick you are, how your underwear is clinging to the folds of your sex. How much of that is his fingers and how much of it is his voice and how much of it is how exposed you are in front of him, you don’t know – but you bite your lip and avert your gaze, and this just seems to spur him on. Both of you know the answer: yes. Yes, you do like being pushed around a little bit--

“These are soaking wet,” he tells you, as the matching lacy underwear to your bra is peeled off of you. He readjusts himself, grabbing your thigh and pressing your knee against your chest so that he can move his hips between your two legs as well as get a proper look at what you’ve been hiding beneath the tiny skirt – he lets out a low whistle, those green eyes greedily drinking you in like you’re a painting hung in an art gallery. “Well, look at you. Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

He sees how the compliment makes you squirm at the same time as it makes your cute little hole, exposed thanks to the stretch of your leg, flutter around nothing. He might break you if he doesn’t prepare you properly; you’re so small, and it’s been a real long time since he bedded a virgin--

One of his fingers drags through your slick with no preamble, brushing your fluttering hole, and the noise catches in your throat – halfway between a whimper and a soft sigh, a noise that does not serve to do anything but make him repeat the motion, gathering your glimmering arousal on the same thick digit. He brings it to his mouth, tongue darting out to taste you.

“Mm, you should taste yourself,” he says to you, eyes glinting. “You’re like honey, sweetheart--” Toji doesn’t wait for you to say yes or no. His finger pushes past your lips, so you’re forced to taste yourself on his fingertips, brushing over your tongue. His eyes focus very deeply on you, like you’re the only thing in his orbit worth paying attention to. “Why don’t you give my finger a suck, darlin’? You’ll want it as wet as you can get it--”

Not that you’re not plenty wet enough. But there’s something so endearing about the feel of your tongue hesitantly licking at him, the shine of your eyes. If he wasn’t hard enough to cut diamonds, he would have you suck his cock first, if only to see those pretty lips wrapped around his shaft and to hear you choke a little bit, to see your makeup go runny and messy and ruined--

“Atta girl,” he says, roughly, pulling his finger out (the trail of drool sends another of those throbs of heat through him). The finger drags over your slit again, parting the plump lips – and then, he’s pushing his finger inside you, your walls pulsing around him. You’re so fucking tight. He knows you weren’t lying about being a virgin – the gasp that dies in your throat, the hand that tangles in his bedsheets, the little lift of your hips to help him along – all of those are things that are entirely sensation responses, not in the least calculated, and Toji loves that.

The finger pumps in and out of you, helped along by your slick, until he can press another alongside it and scissor them gently, stretching out your channel in preparation for what you’re going to take in a matter of minutes. Your teeth keep digging into your bottom lip, as if you’re afraid to make too much of a noise – he chuckles as he brushes your swollen clit with his thumb.

“C’mon,” he growls, “don’t hold out on me. Lemme hear you--”

Oh, you’re so embarrassed – but you’re also, he can tell, the kind of girl who can’t resist an order. You let your mouth relax, drop open – and next time his thumb rubs firmly across your clit, the noise is caught only by the ceiling above you both. He makes some little noise of praise that you can’t fully discern, because now he’s started pulling forth your pleasure he doesn’t want to stop. Three fingers. His thumb, toying with your clit, rubbing firm circles with it as he feels your channel clench and quiver around his fingers. He rubs at the textured spot on your inner walls and you groan, your other hand gripping his forearm, your brow forming sweat. Your hips are circling, needy, in search of more stimulation.

“You gonna come for me, sweetheart?” Toji asks you, his voice like cigarettes and leather. “C’mon. Let me see-- let me feel your pretty cunt clench--”

Something about the dirty words pushes you over the edge and you tumble down a dark hole, fireworks exploding inside of you, stars bursting into being behind your eyelids as pleasure washes over you in great waves. You soak Toji’s fingers, your walls sucking him in deeper and deeper.

Your breath comes in great pants, the aftershocks of your orgasm still gently rippling through you even as Toji pulls his fingers out of you. You look up at the man as he adjusts himself with his other hand, as if in a haze – and as if in a haze, when he roughly pushes those three fingers back into your mouth, you suckle on them with your mind and thoughts all misty. All you can think about is him. That’s what he wanted, anyway – cute little demure virgin, cock drunk even without him fucking you properly – he breaks girls like you on the regular, but you might be one of his favourites.

He tugs down his pants enough to reveal his flushed cock, curving to lay against his stomach, hard and leaking precome from a reddened tip. Your eyes widen (he always loves that moment), as you realise why he took pains to prepare you with his fingers.

“Whaddya think?” He asks you, teasing, wrapping his fist around the shaft. Even his big hands around it do nothing to make it look smaller, and you barely realise that you’re staring until he slaps your thighs with it, streaking his own wetness all over you. “You’ll give a man a complex, sweetheart--”

“I-I don’t have much to compare it to,” you say, desperately, heated and needy even though you literally just came. You want him inside you. You never thought you’d be so easily broken down into wanting to be fucked, but here you are – something primal inside of you is awoken by the size of his cock and the glitter in his eyes and the sculpted muscle, and you want to be desecrated. “Y-you look big--”

He laughs at that. Yeah, you definitely don’t have much to compare it to if that’s your take-away. Still. It’s cute, how you’ve spread your legs a little wider, how you’re not hiding the fact you’re looking at him like he’s some kind of angel who’s finally granted you a taste of the celestial city.

“I feel big too,” he tells you, with a smirk that rattles you to your core. “Wanna find out?”

When you nod, he grins – those big hands take a hold of your thighs, pressing both of your knees to your chest this time. He takes a moment to enjoy you in this position – those wide eyes, the lewd splay of your legs revealing the glimpse of your cunt still tantalisingly shining with the remnants of your orgasm. You squirm under his hungry gaze, exposed – and that does nothing to quell the hunger that seems to be thrumming through Toji, with every clench and wriggle.

“Good,” he tells you, rubbing his cock through the mess you’ve made of yourself, making sure the head nudges your clit and he can see the way you shiver. “You’re bein’ such a good girl for me--”

He catches on your entrance and you let out a keen. With your knees pressed to your chest, you’re unable to get a grip on Toji’s shoulders, and you have to console yourself with fisting the bedsheets beneath you (rumpled even before you’d ended up there).

The position he’s got you in means that you feel every ridge of his cock, every vein, every throb – inch by inch, as he sheaths himself slowly inside you. He can’t help but watch as your jaw goes slack, as your eyes cloud with the feeling of him entering you – as tears bead in the corner of your eyes at the burn and stretch--

Oh, fuck, the tears. He wonders if you feel the way that his cock seems to harden at that, at how pretty you look all glassy-eyed and helpless and trying to take him. He’s maybe two thirds in and almost at the limit of forward motion, but you whimper, letting your head fall back--

“P-please,” you say, “I—I can take it--”

He laughs, low and dangerous. He leans in, brushes his lips over your sweat slicked forehead. His tone is syrupy sweet when he speaks, as he angles his hips just so that he sinks another aching inch into the sweet kiss of your tight cunt.

“Oh, I know you will, sweetheart,” he murmurs, sounding almost like a threat. His eyes flash downwards, to see how tightly you’re clinging to him – how big his cock looks, disappearing into your slick sex. How the glistening ring of your need coats him. Just a bit further – watching himself claim you is almost hypnotic.

He wants to see you on your hands and knees, watch his cock stretch you out that way. He wants to see you gag and choke and drool around his cock, wants to see your small hands wrap around him, wants to have you in every position until you’re so fucked silly you can barely move--

But for now, he hilts inside of you, his balls slapping against your slick skin. His face splits into a smile as his eyes travel back up, to the bulge in your stomach that he knows is from just how big his cock is, to your thighs trembling even with him keeping them prone against you. You’re so cute. The tears have spilled past the rim of your eyelids now, wetting your cheeks – they’re so maddeningly sexy, on your pretty face. He’s not going to last half as long as he wants to, he doesn’t think – not when you’ve been driving him to distraction since the moment he laid eyes on you.

He can barely remember he killed a man less than an hour ago.

That’s old news, unimportant compared to how your walls flutter around him as he pulls out. Unimportant compared to the arch of your back, the rock of your breasts, the great gasps of air.

He’s not a kind man, but he doesn’t go out of his way to be an asshole to his conquests – so he lets you get used to the rolling rhythm of his hips, slowly. He doesn’t piston his hips in and out of you, not at first. He lets the slow drag of his cock on your sensitive inner walls make you shiver, make you gasp and moan and whimper. And only after he’s earned the light hump of your hips against his, searching for the sensation yourself, does he let himself fuck you the way he wants to.

He wants to record the moan-squeak-whimper of surprise as he begins to pump his hips in earnest. It’s a noise he’s heard before, but coming from your pretty mouth it seems all the more potent. His hips jerk into you and out of you, the noise of skin slapping against skin very loud in the bedroom. The slick noises of his cock driving in and out of your tight cunt would be shaming if it didn’t feel so good, if you didn’t get a shock of want every time his body ground against your clit on the inner thrust.

You lose track of time, with the dangerous man you met at the bar bent over you. He mouths greedily at your lips, seeming to treasure every noise you make and swallow it down his throat like a sweet candy – he bites at your neck, at your throat, the grip on your thighs never faltering for a moment. You can do nothing but let yourself be folded in half, and let him fuck you like an animal.

That seems right. He’s rutting into you deep and hungrily, almost feral in his enjoyment of your body. He drops one of your legs suddenly, letting it hit the mattress, readjusting his hips so that one of his hands can dive between you and--

He’s playing with your clit again. The pads of his fingers are rough, and you wonder if he handles a gun like the one that gave him that starburst scar. You wonder how dangerous these fingers are, the ones that were buried inside you and are now coaxing your poor, swollen clit to another orgasm.

“Come on, baby girl,” he growls, pressing harder, making your thighs jump with tension. “Wanna feel you come with my cock buried in that pretty little cunt--”

You whimper, throwing your head to the side and letting a cry out into the pillow like a mewl. Toji would be mad that you’d stifled the cute little noise, if the sight of you submissively showing him your neck (one of your softest parts) hadn’t scratched an itch for dominance inside of him – and if the feel of your body clenching and pulsating around his cock wasn’t currently finally pushing him over the edge, making him judder his hips against you as he shoots rope after rope of his come directly inside of you.

Your shoulders are heaving with the effort of the orgasm that’s still ricocheting through you, your toes curling, your body clenching and soaking Toji’s cock with your orgasm. You don’t even realise he’s come inside of you until he pulls out slightly and you wince at the feel of that same come, his load far too thick and full to not have a bit of it trickling out of your stretched hole. Toji admires the look of it; darkened from his persistent thrusts, your syrupy slick mixing with the thick pearly white of his seed.

“Y-you came inside me,” you say, your voice half-clogged with the tears that are still glistening on your cheeks (a low pulse of heat in his groin. His refractory period has always been short – and with a cute little thing like you in his bed, who can blame him for wanting to fuck you again almost immediately?). “I—I don’t even know your name--”

Oh, shit. He’d quite forgotten. He knows yours from the girl in the bar (that already feels like a lifetime ago). He can hear the uncertainty in your voice, the kind of confusion that seems to say ‘good girls don’t do this, I would never do this, who is this stranger wearing my skin with a man’s come making their thighs sticky?’. It’s part of the process of breaking that Toji loves so much.)

“Sure did, darlin’,” he says, absent-mindedly scooping some of the come that’s oozed out of you and pressing it back inside. He wins a whimper for that, one that’s definitely not ‘stop’. “You’re still so sensitive.”

If you notice he doesn’t give you his name in response to your question, you don’t say anything. As his fingers gently circle your entrance again, as his hand brushes your thigh and you shiver, he sees that you unconsciously spread your legs even further apart for his explorations. Oh, you’re so cute.

One lone finger, gently grazing your clit, makes your hips jerk, your voice break in a way that’s all needy. You look at Toji through those tear-darkened eyes, your lips bitten to puffiness, your lipstick and mascara and eyeliner all messed up on your face from crying and biting your lip and drooling. Adorable. Girls like you always look best like this, their polish scuffed when Toji’s taken them to bed and stripped away all of their defences.

Girls like you, Toji always manages to get to move their hips against his ministrations. He always manages to have them gasp, whimper, break--

You’re not the first one in his bed, and you probably won’t be the last. But as he grins at you and asks;

“Well, sweetheart. I’ll give you a choice. Y’wanna take a shower and I’ll call you a cab or somethin’ and you can head off home? Or,” he drops his voice low, drags his eyes over your prone form, brushes his lips over your stomach. They flutter against the soft skin, his breath a hot wash that makes goose flesh prickle all over you. “Y’wanna spend the night?”

And you bite your lip before nodding, nervously running your hand through his hair, your body near trembling with need--

Well. As he asks that and you answer, he really does think you might be his favourite one ever.

#toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #toji x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji smut #not sfw #writing #jjk writing #jjk posting #Anonymous

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subspencer · 4 years ago

Text

the to-do list

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: Reader is worried that she’s not adventurous enough in bed. So, she makes a secret checklist of things to try with Spencer. Based on this request.

Category: Smut, 18+ ONLY, minors dni

Warnings/Includes: switch!Spencer, (sort of?) corruption kink, exhibitionism, mile high club, brief description of oral, unprotected sex, creampie, brief mentions of other stuff but no descriptions

Word Count: 3k

Spencer’s girlfriend has a secret checklist. It could be called a bucket list, of some sort, but really all of the items on it pertain to sexual acts to perform with Spencer, on Spencer, or in front of Spencer. So checklist is a more appropriate term.

The list came into existence after a girl’s night game of Never Have I Ever, in which she discovered there was an embarrassing number of things she’d never done. Some of them seemed nearly impossible to have gone twenty-something years without doing, especially when in a committed relationship. That was made abundantly clear to her when the girls pointed it out, teasing her — and by association, Spencer — for being more than vanilla.

There was no real reason she hadn’t tried those certain things — she wasn’t adverse to the idea of most of them at all. Really, it was just that she never bothered to dip her toes beyond what was familiar.

When Emily, Penelope, and Tara had nearly all ten of their fingers down after a couple rounds, she finally realized she might’ve been coming up short in the sex department. She figured it was about time to find out what she’s missing, so she made a list of everything she needed to try. And one by one, she and Spencer checked the items off.

One of the more simple things on the list, and perhaps her favorite, was giving her first blowjob. It wasn’t something she felt compelled to try with any of the guys she’s been with before, and Spencer, though he was very curious about it, was too much of a gentleman to ask for one.

So when she asked him to sit on the edge of his bed and dropped to her knees in front of him, he didn’t stop to ask questions. His mind went blank the second her fingers undid his zipper. It was Spencer’s first, too, and his fingers knotted in her hair as she took him in as deep as she could, hollowing her cheeks around his cock and swirling her tongue as her head bobbed up and down. Spencer always made pretty sounds in bed, but in this instance she envied his memory because she wished she could replay his moans and gasps from that first blowjob all over again in her mind.

Another favorite was allowing the favor to be reciprocated until completion. She figured she might just be someone who couldn’t get off from oral, because though she always welcomed Spencer to go down, she got impatient every time and pulled his head up by his hair, demanding him to fuck her already. Spencer was one to oblige every request, but he couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t overjoyed when one time she never stopped him short.

There were no interruptions, no hands shoving his face away from its rightful place against her, just increasing moans and shaking legs as Spencer was encouraged to give more. She can still remember the half-moon shapes his nails left on her thighs from where he had to grip them so tightly as she rode out her high. And she definitely remembers the almost feral look in his eyes after, because since that first time he insists on doing it again nearly every day.

There were more or less a dozen other items that slowly but surely got ticked off the list.

Handcuffs in the bedroom — fun, but perhaps better saved for special occasions. Or if Spencer was being extra good and deserved a treat.

Various new positions — a reminder to stretch more. And that sixty-nine is not as easy as it sounds on paper.

She let Spencer put a blindfold on her — it was decided they both prefer it more when the blindfold is on him. It keeps him guessing.

Spanking — both of them like this one, either giving or receiving. Surprisingly, she thinks she might like receiving it a little more, and Spencer is always excited to give.

Shower sex — a bit of a logistical nightmare, yet still a weekly staple. It’s slippery, yes, but it’s also relaxing and intimate. And Spencer just enjoys putting his hands on her wet, soapy body.

Sending dirty texts — great, but Spencer prefers taking nude polaroids of her instead. He keeps a few in his wallet for easy access. And because he knows Garcia can’t hack his wallet and find them.

And there were more items that went in the same tune until there was just one left. The one she was most nervous to attempt.

She wondered if joining the mile high club was better or worse if it was on the BAU jet. They’d have ample opportunities to do it, but they’d also be surrounded by their colleagues, and there is no coming back from getting caught.

But the main challenge was convincing Spencer to do it in the first place.

The initial plan of attack was to drop some “subtle” hints. She brought it up for the first time one night in their shared hotel room, right after Spencer fucked her against the bathroom counter, her legs wrapped around his waist.

“We could totally do that in the jet bathroom.”

“Yeah, I guess the basics are the same. Cramped space and a ledge to lean on.” Spencer was completely aloof as he picked up the scattered articles of clothing from the floor, rattling off about the size and dimensions of the airplane bathroom and missing the entire point of the comment.

She mentioned it again a little later, hoping the repetition may help him catch the drift.

“What’s the craziest place you’ve had sex?” she asked, completely catching him off guard as he ate a breakfast of frosted flakes in his kitchen.

“Um.. I don’t know? You tell me,” he shrugged, knowing that whatever the craziest place was, it was definitely with her.

“What about doing it on the jet?” It couldn’t get more obvious.

“We haven’t done that, silly. OH! I’m gonna say it was in my car,” he nodded with a wide grin, confident in his answer that unfortunately brushed past the proposition far too quickly.

It was time to change methods.

The new plan was to see if she could get him turned on enough on the jet to motivate him to do something about it right then and there. It seemed easy enough.

She sat next to him on the small couch, as she always did, and cuddled up to his side as he read his book.

Once everyone was distracted, she snaked a hand onto his thigh, allowing it to rest there long enough for Spencer to get over his initial shock and relax into her touch. As soon as he let his guard down, she moved her hand up another inch or two, watching him squirm again as he fought his mind from wandering. She repeated that cycle every five minutes until it drove him insane, his willpower diminishing in tandem with the proximity of her hand.

When everyone finally fell asleep, she craned her head to press small kisses on his neck, alternating between quick pecks and lingering ones, sucking warm and wet little flecks onto his skin that drew soft sighs without fail.

“What are you doing?” his breath was raspy and low as he muttered into her ear.

“Nothing.” She kept her tone innocent and sweet as she continued to sprinkle the teasing kisses across the column of his throat.

Her hand finally found its way directly on top of the bulge straining against his slacks and gave it a gentle squeeze. Spencer grinded himself into her palm, desperate to feel some friction, his jaw slacked and pupils wide. She dragged a thumb across his length, stopping to rub slow circles over the sensitive tip, drawing out a wet spot at the front of his trousers.

But even with his skin flushed red and his cock leaking and half-near orgasm, Spencer still found the restraint to stop her from jerking him off right on the jet and ripped her hand away, placing it in her lap as if the action could permanently force her to keep her hands to herself.

“I can’t go to the crime scene with cum in my pants,” he hissed, squeezing her wrist tighter.

She smirked at the opportunity, wrapping her warm lips around his ear lobe and tugging with her teeth before whispering with hot breath. “Then put it in me.”

For a second she saw him consider it. His eyes had a dark cast, gaze flickering between her eyes and lips as he swallowed the thick lump in his throat. But then Emily woke up and it was yet another failed attempt.

She resigned to the fact that it just wouldn’t happen, and that the item might remain unchecked on the secret list. So she cleared the idea from her mind, not wanting to keep pushing Spencer toward something he clearly didn’t have an interest in, or to keep embarrassing herself by trying.

And then a couple weeks later, as the team wrapped another case up, she came back to their hotel room to find Spencer sitting on the bed, facing away from the door.

“Hey, baby,” she greeted. When Spencer didn’t respond, she crawled onto the bed behind him, placing both hands on his shoulders and attacking the side of his face with kisses, giggling into his messy curls. “I said hey.”

Still nothing. Her eyes followed his line of sight down to his hands and went wide with realization.

“Spencer, where did you get that!?” She tried to snatch the crumpled piece of paper from him, but he was too quick to pull it away.

“I was looking for gum in your purse,” he explained, reading the sheet over again in complete amusement, “but I found something better.”

Spencer was much too excited about it, bordering on smug, and she rolled off the bed away from him in annoyance.

“Is this what I think it is?” She remained silent, suddenly feeling very insecure about the note. “Did you... did you make a list of things to do in bed?”

“You weren’t supposed to see that, it’s so stupid.”

“Hey, who said it’s stupid?” He tugged on her fingers, pulling her back onto the bed next to him. “I just wanna know where it came from.”

“Well... when I went out with the girls, we started talking about all the things we’ve done…” she paused to see if Spencer could guess where this was going, and of course he didn’t, “... in bed. And I hadn’t even done half of what they have, so I wrote some of them down. I — I wanted to try them with you.”

“So you… you’ve never done these with anyone else?” Spencer’s eyes widened as he pieced the puzzle together. He looked down again at the discarded sheet laying on pillows, his pride swelling at how long the list was. “I’m the first?”

She nodded in assent and no sooner was Spencer pushing her back flat against the mattress, settling his body on top of hers.

“God, that’s so hot,” he spoke into her neck as he sucked purple bruises into it, allowing his hands to roam freely under her shirt. His nimble fingers made quick work of her bra clasp, pulling the hem of the top up to attach his lips to her exposed nipple. He rolled the other in his fingers, tugging gently as she arched into his touch, rolling her hips up to grind against his. He groaned and pushed back, nestling himself perfectly between her legs.

Suddenly his motions halted and he popped his head up, looking at her with wide eyes and freshly ruffled hair. “We haven’t finished the list yet!”

“I — I didn’t think you were interested in the last one.”

“If my girlfriend makes a list of ways she wants to fuck me, I’m interested.”

A devilish grin took over her face. “Well, we fly home tomorrow.”

And true to the plan, they arrived on the jet the next day with at least a vague sense of strategy: wait until everyone is asleep then go at it in the bathroom. It wasn’t the most elaborate of plans, but there wasn’t much else to think of.

Except for the possibility that the others might not go to sleep.

The flight was already halfway through its journey and everyone was still wide awake, and Spencer was growing incredibly impatient. Perhaps even more than his girlfriend, now that he knew this would be part of a long list of things he got to be her first for.

That fact seemed to encourage him, the thrill of forever being her first at something. Never mind that she’d be his firsts, too.

Spencer’s not stupid, he knows that bending her over the bathroom counter while everyone is awake to hear it is a horrible idea. But his willpower doesn’t extend far enough to stop him from dropping his hand to her exposed knee, rubbing it softly just to be able to touch her. It seemed innocent enough in case anyone might see.

He kept his eyes on the open book he was pretending to read as his fingers traced the inside of her thigh, pushing up the hem of her skirt ever so slightly.

He inched his hand up and slowly spread his long fingers apart until they covered the length of her inner thigh. The tips stopping just below her cunt, delicately tracing lines back and forth parallel to the seam of her underwear.

And she quickly discovers there’s no taste worse than your own medicine. There was gentle brushes and concealed touches, all the things that she did to him. But where Spencer would’ve stopped her teasing before it got too far, she wouldn’t have done the same.

She covered up his hands by bringing her own down to her lap, silently encouraging him to continue unseen.

Spencer looked down at her through his thick lashes, bottom lip stuck between his teeth. Looking for more confirmation that she wanted this. The answer came in the form of her shifting subtly down the seat, pressing her clothed pussy firmly against his hand.

His cock twitched against the confines of his slacks when he felt the damp patch on the fabric. His knuckles brushed against her clit and her knees clamped shut, holding him in place as she brought her lips close to his ear to let him hear her soft whines.

He has to put his book over his lap to cover how hard he is, and it almost makes him regret starting this game. Almost.

Because just as she starts desperately grinding against his hand, squirming for more friction, he notices that everyone’s asleep. And then it’s a race to the bathroom, Spencer positioning her directly in front of him to cover his bulge as they stand up.

Their mouths are on each other before the door even closes, her hands wasting little time in going for his zipper. Both desperate to have each other after all the anticipation. She immediately perched herself on the countertop, spreading her legs wide so Spencer could fit in between them, just like in that hotel room. A confused whine fell from her mouth when he lifted her off from the ledge, interrupting her plan.

“No. Like this,” he growled, turning her around and pushing her hips against the edge of the counter, bending her over it. She muttered a “Fuck,” under her breath as he pressed his cock against her backside, knowing he preferred this angle because he could get deeper.

His lips trailed down her neck as he tugged the skirt up to her hips and pulled her panties to the side, running his cock along her folds to gather the wetness that had been pooling there.

“Shit, you’re so fucking wet.”

He quickly inserted his thumb into her mouth to stop any sounds from escaping before lining himself up. Her moans vibrated against the digit as he slowly pushed in, stretching her out and letting her adjust before starting to move. Slowly and deliberately, at first, then quickly gaining speed.

She pushed her hips back to meet his thrusts until he pinned them against the ledge with his own, holding them still so he could set his pace faster.

The hand that was resting on her waist came up to her chest, groping at the flesh over her blouse. Her spine arched into his palm, bending forward to give him more leverage to get deeper to that spot inside her repeatedly.

He alternated between a few quick thrusts followed by a deep one, holding himself there for a moment before repeating.

Her cunt tightened around him as he held still against her, applying firm pressure to her spot with the head of his cock.

“Fuck, do that again, please,” he grunted against her neck, pushing his hips into her ass with bruising force to get impossibly closer. A loud whine nearly escaped her lips as he did so, the motion sending her over the edge.

She sucked harder around his thumb, using it to keep her cries at bay as she reached her climax. Her walls fluttered around him as she did, giving him exactly what he needed.

“Remember what you said before, baby?” he hummed in her ear, “Do you still want me to cum inside you?”

“Please.”

Immediately his thrusts became erratic, hips snapping forward a handful of times before he spilled into her in hot spurts, biting down on her shoulder to stifle his moan as he came.

Still heaving from the comedown, he pulled her panties back on, using the fabric to keep his cum from spilling out.

She turned to feverishly attach her lips to his, panting into the open mouthed kiss. When they finally broke apart, both looked completely wrecked with swollen lips, flushed skin, bruised necks. Still, they tried their best to fix themselves, straightening out their rustled clothes and smoothing knotted hair.

Before Spencer turned the door handle, he pulled her side into him, pressing a kiss onto her forehead. “We should make another list.”

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