#I just don’t get it I know you think he’s hot and you don’t mind dating him but my god

[yuujiologyy]

thinking about collecting debt from gi-hun another way.

the mans hair was a mused sweaty mess with some stray pieces sticking to his forehead. gi-huns chest heaved, hungry for air hoping to clear his mind. it felt his senses went haywire, he was feeling all the wrong emotions!

and unmistakably there’s a tent in his pants, he’s hard.

“masochist bitch gi-hun likes it rough, huh?” you crowded cover him in the small bathroom. gi-hun attempted to scoot away but his back hit the wall with a thud.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about…” he looked away not daring to look in your eyes, he could practically see the lust spilling from them.

the air was thick around the both of you, making his head feel stuffed with cotton. that had to be why gi-hun didn’t feel scared, he felt aroused.

“then whats this guy doing awake, hmm?” you leaned into his personal space, giving his cock a hard squeeze. eliciting the most delectable mewl to slip from his lips.

“look at you… all hot n' bothered from getting a little roughed up. is this what you wanted gi-hun? to be put in your place like this?”

he whimpered and shook his head pathetically yet he couldn’t muster the words to deny your claims.

"it's alright, i know just what to do with sluts like you.”

---

"mmph-, you can't suddenly go that deep, sir, you’ll ruin me–!”

gi-huns face contorted into bliss as he came for the umpteenth time adding to the mess of bodily fluids coating both your bodies. your pace on his hole was unrelenting, obvious that you we're using him to chase your own release.

"y'know, the term 'punishment' isn't supposed to mean you enjoy it.' you sighed, rubbing a hand over your head. "what to do with a slut like you.."

"m' s-sorry, sorry sir!" gi-huns nails dug into your biceps, the only thing anchoring him from falling into a subspace even though it was probably too late to worry about that. from their perch on your shoulders, gi-huns legs shook vehemently.

you placed a hand on gi-huns stomach, almost cumming from the feeling of your cock bulging his stomach. "fuck baby, with such a slutty body like this you could make back the money you owe me in a few days."

"but do i really want to share you?" you faked contemplation before grabbing gi-huns face in your hand. his cheeks squished together, pursing his lips. "tell me gi-hun," you leaned in, barely an inch away from his lips. "do you want to be everyones slut?"

he made a broken gurgle sound in his throat in reply, eyes glazed over and unfocused. he was too fucked out to reply. how adorable.

"well good thing you have me to make the choice for you." you bit down on the junction between his neck and shoulder as a way to stake your claim on the man. "from this day onward, you're my bitch till you pay off what you owe me. it's a pleasure to be working with you, gi-hun."

-

[empress-ghoul]

You’ve gotten good at getting a sense for these sorts of things. A feeling in your chest, a twist in your gut, a sixth sense, if you will. You think you’d prefer your sixth sense to be seeing ghosts, rather than sensing when creepy men are going to approach you.

You just wanted a drink. It had been a long fucking day at work and you just wanted a drink without worrying about actually talking to people. That was why you sat at the end of the bar.

Maybe you should have just bought a bottle of wine on the way home. Your sixth sense had told you that going into the bar was a bad idea. At least then this guy wouldn’t be talking to you.

He was attractive at least, but you couldn’t be in less of a mood and he was practically sitting on top of you.

“Rough day?” he asked.

Your eye nearly twitched. “Something like that.”

“Yeah,” he scoffed. “I can tell.”

And he was rude. Cherry on top.

You rolled your eyes and shot him a glare, your lip curling slightly into a snarl. “Yeah,” you mimic. “You don’t look too hot either, asshole.”

Cash is handed to the bartender and you reach for your bag. He beats you to it, gripping the strap in an iron hold. Indignation rises. Part of you wants to wrestle it back, but the other part knows you’d just end up embarrassing yourself.

“We got off on the wrong foot,” he begins. “I’m Johnny—“

“I’m not interested. Bag. Now.”

You hold your hand out, but something tells you he’s not the type to listen.

That feeling is confirmed when he laughs. Yet another cherry on top.

“How about this; I buy you a drink and you get your bag back after?”

There’s a beat of silence where you nearly laugh. Was he serious? You’re about to ask him when he’s suddenly ordering for you and holding your bag in his lap.

You had to bargain with your tired mind, telling yourself that you were getting a free drink out of this. Frustrated, yet resigned, you sit back down.

He grins at you and your sixth sense prickles the back of your neck.

Johnny was good at talking and part of you almost felt bad. He seemed lonely. You were certain only a lonely, mildly insane person would steal a purse and buy the purse owner a drink just to have someone to talk to.

But you were lonely too. Only a lonely, mildly insane person would let him buy more drinks after getting their purse back.

You barely noticed the hand on your thigh. By the time you did, he was right in your face.

“Bonnie thing, aren’t you?” he purred.

That’s how you ended up getting tugged back to his apartment. He kept an arm around your waist and your bag in his hand the entire walk. Right outside the door, when his hand was on the doorknob, you realized how bad of an idea this was.

One night stands weren’t exactly your thing, especially not on a weeknight. You had a little bit of dignity, after all.

Plus, your sixth sense practically vibrated in your chest to tell you to turn and run. But suddenly the door was open and he was pushing you inside.

The door shut and locked behind you both, and suddenly you were standing in front of a wall of a man. Your throat tightened when you felt Johnny’s arms around your waist, trapping you in place.

“What’d you think, LT?” Johnny asked, squeezing you tighter.

He sounded so eager, so hopefully.

You stared up at the man in front of you. He looked…bored? Almost uninterested. Similar to a wolf who caught a meal too easily.

Despite being tipsy on the walk from the bar to here, you were suddenly stone cold sober and frozen in place.

A massive hand gripped your jaw, tilting your head up. A calloused thumb brushed over your bottom lip, yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to scream. Only tremble as Johnny rubbed a stubbly cheek against your soft one.

“This the one you told me ‘bout?” the enormous man asked.

Something hard pressed against the fat of your ass as Johnny smiled. “Yeah, the one from the train,” he preened, clearly proud of himself. “Can we keep her?”

Maybe you should have just bought a bottle of wine on the way home.

[plutosillywrites]

imagine plus size!reader going to the bar for a date— just to get to stood up.. but that’s okay, 141 is there for their night out, and could never say no to a pretty bird like you.

(i hope u like this nonsense :3)

you’ve never had much luck with dating, which you think for the most part you’re okay with, sometimes it just doesn’t work out when you think it will— but it does sting when all of your friends are snatched up and engaged or dating.

it leaves you asking if there’s something wrong with you— which you know is not true, but when you are so crushingly rejected every single time, you get sick of it.

and tonight, god you hope it’s different. you had been chatting up some pretty guy, and he was nice— attentive even, and you aren’t ugly by any means.your curves are to die for, the way your tummy is seen in dresses, and how your thighs and ass look in some good jeans— maybe you have a few more fat rolls than the average person, and your body held a plump look. but you looked damn fine with it too..

the cellulite— the hair, the skin. practically flawless, and as you slipped on your black dress with pearl accessories, and a beautiful vintage black bag. you were ready to go—

you slip your heels on, grab your keys and you’re out the door. locking your apartment door behind you (god forbid you forget again like that one time. you’ll always miss your good mixer that the thief stole.)

the walk there is quite nice, your date having asked you to meet up at a jazz club nearby, which was only a 10 minute walk.

you walk towards the front door of the place, bright LED letters adorned the top of the building. ‘THE JAZZ ROOM.’ it’s a nice, quaint place.

as you step inside the sound of the sax and sweet singing voice draws you in, you smile at the song being sung— and make way towards the bar, waiting patiently for your date.

what you don’t see however, is how 4 men sat back in their seats to get a better look at you as you walked in. johnny is the first to say something— “Fucking gorgeous ain’t she.” — the others hum in agreement.

you twiddle your thumbs, sipping on a fruity cocktail because— of course you can’t shoot whiskey, it’s been 25 minutes since you got here— you even showed up 5 minutes late.

you laugh, but not one filled with joy, one filled with disbelief. “i think im just gonna delete tinder. it doesn’t work— stupid apps never do.” youre mumbling as youre finishing off your drink, and fanning down the bartender.

johnny claps his hands, and goes to stand. “i think pretty bonnie over ‘er got stood up. blokes missing out— it’s alright though, i’ll go and swoop her up.” he shuffles out of the booth, the others make no move to disagree but simon chimes in by saying, “you better tell ‘er how fucking gorgeous she looks tonigh’. “

johnny then makes his way towards the empty seat beside you. the 3 men sit and watch— they trust johnny to woo you over, he’s just too good with words.

you ask the bartender for another cocktail, and as you go to take a sip you hear a gruff scottish voice from beside you. “what’s a pretty bonnie like you doing here alone?” you turn, and wow.

the man has a mohawk, and the most stunning blue eyes you have ever seen. he’s got a smile that has a warmth churning up inside— why is he staring at you like your the only girl in the world? and why does it feel so good??

“oh— uhm,, haha..” you trail off, “it’s a funny story, really.” you fiddle with the fruit on a toothpick in your drink, “i’m supposed to be on a date, but uhm.. he didn’t end up showing.” you grimace a bit, taking a large sip.

“well, he’s a bloody idiot.” the man says, he leans closer, resting his head on his hand. “my names johnny, you wouldn’t mind if i took his spot as your date, would’ya?”

a handsome, muscular man with a hot accent asking to be YOUR date? yeah, you’re not saying no to that! you smile, laughing so quiet johnny almost didn’t catch it under the music.

“no, i wouldn’t.. i’d prefer if you did.” you scoot your barstool closer, and tell him your name, your hand resting on the table dangerously close to his.

“you look stunning tonight, love.” he breathes out, he intertwines his fingers with yours, “fucking breathtaking— had my eyes glued to you since you walked in ‘ere.”

you look at him quickly, he’d watched you since you walked in? “you like what you saw that much?” you questioned with a frown, and his smile only grew. “fuck yes, and not just me—“ he leans you can see the rest of the group.

their eyes are hungry; with something else mixed in, and you can’t quite tell if its passion or lust. “—my whole team thinks you’re the prettiest girl in this whole place.”

your body goes slack just slightly, before letting a smile creep onto your face, resting your hand on johnny’s knee you leaned close to his ear.. “well, it’s rude to keep people waiting.. isn’t it?” you whispered.

“you’re right as rain, bonnie. why don’t we join them?” johnny mumbles back, already standing and tugging you near their table, his hand wrapped around your waist…

pt 2!! https://www.tumblr.com/plutosillywrites/775073803823890432/part-2-of-plus-sized-reader-who-gets-swooped-up

(an: johnny i love you. i love you and you just don’t know it.)

[lazysoulwriter]

My Man, My Rules - Rafe Cameron

There was a fight. Of course, there was a fight.

Because Rafe Cameron couldn’t go one week without being knee-deep in some rich-kid drama.

And as usual, it all started with some guy looking at him the wrong way. Or maybe breathing too close. Or—God forbid—standing within a five-foot radius of her.

So now, here he was, blood dripping from his nose, shirt torn at the collar, grinning like he just won a championship fight, while his friends stood around awkwardly, avoiding her gaze.

She, on the other hand, was livid.

“Oh, great. Just fucking great,” she started, storming up to him. “Again, Rafe? You really have one brain cell, and you let Topper borrow it for the night, huh?”

“Baby—”

“No.” She raised a finger, effectively shutting him up. “I swear to God, Cameron, if you get into one more fight, I will personally beat your ass myself.”

The entire party went silent.

Kelce let out a low whistle. Topper looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole. Even the guy Rafe had just fought—some dude from Chapel Hill who probably just wanted a beer—was staring like he had just witnessed something far more terrifying than Rafe Cameron’s right hook.

Rafe, though? He just looked amused.

“You done?” he asked, licking his busted lip.

She stepped closer, grabbing his face with both hands. “Oh, I am not done. In fact, I’m just getting started. Because you know what, Rafe? You’re mine. My man. And that means I get to decide if you’re allowed to get your dumb ass into fights.”

He blinked. “I’m… not allowed?”

“That’s right,” she snapped. “Not. Allowed. What the fuck do you think this is? Some fight club for trust fund babies? No, sir. We are done with this. From now on, I make the rules. You got a problem with someone? You tell me. You feel like punching someone? You tell me. You wanna get your knuckles bloody? I will find you a punching bag, Rafe Cameron, but it will NOT be at a fucking country club party.”

Rafe looked at her for a long second. Then, he smirked. “Kinda hot when you boss me around like that.”

She groaned, letting go of his face only to smack the back of his head. “Are you hearing me? You are banned from fighting. BANNED.”

“Banned?”

“BANNED.”

“…Like, for life?”

“Oh my fucking God—”

She turned to the crowd, gesturing wildly. “Does ANYONE else want to tell this idiot what I’m saying before I lose my mind?”

Kelce coughed. “I think she means you’re not supposed to fight anymore, bro.”

Rafe scoffed. “Yeah, no shit, Kelce—”

She grabbed his chin again, forcing him to look at her. “Do. You. Understand. Me?”

His smirk softened just a little. “Yeah, baby. I understand.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Do you really?”

“I do.” He leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to her nose. “I promise.”

She squinted, trying to decide if she believed him. Finally, she sighed and wiped some blood off his cheek with her sleeve. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“I am cute,” he agreed. “And strong. And—”

“Do not make me take it back, Cameron.”

He grinned, wrapping an arm around her waist. “C’mon, let’s get outta here.”

She sighed dramatically but let him pull her away. “Fine. But if I ever catch you fighting again—”

“I know, I know. You’ll beat my ass.”

“Damn right, I will.”

Rafe smirked, tugging her even closer. “My scary little girlfriend.”

She rolled her eyes. “And don’t you forget it.”

[becausebuckley]

michelle's buddie fic recs: week 6!

and what a week it's been... idk about you all, but i'm very much looking forward to all the 8b spec fic after seeing That One Leak...

this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! some might also contain spoilers for season 8.

if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

a graveyard in blue | moonlightmornings/@moonlight-mornings | 12.9k | GA

After a call goes south because of limited resources and an equipment malfunction, Eddie's brave move to rescue a young girl takes a nasty turn. i love how this captures the energy and vibe of a rescue!! genuinely feels straight out of an episode <3

and i'd do it over and over again | playinginthunderstorms/@playinginthunderstorms | 4.4k | E

Buck and Eddie hook up at the end of "Confessions". oh when i tell you i savoured this one... such a wonderful fic that captures buddie's first time so so perfectly!! i love how their dynamic is written here <3

everything in between | simplyylupin | 2.1k | T

They’re quiet for a moment, mulling over the unsaid, and then Buck’s bringing his phone closer to his face, eyes squinting. “Are you naked?” the absolute codependency of these two <3 so good!!

hot ghost problems | ebjameston/@ebjameston | 40.9k | T

The ghost would prefer to go by Buck, if Eddie wouldn’t mind. this was a reread! i was reminded of the magic system here and revisited it - can confirm that magic and ghosts and all that are so very good here, and i love the diaz siblings!!

i'll tell them put me back in it (and i would do it again) | paleredheadinascifi | 4.8k| T

Eddie doesn't know how to make his listening history private. Buck doesn't know what to do with the words in front of his eyes. Chris cannot believe he has to deal with either of them. the sheer brilliance of this concept... such a lovely look at the buckley-diaz dynamics! i was smiling the whole way through <3

it's golden, like daylight | rarakiplin/@hoediaz | 8.7k | T

“Shut up,” fingers dig into his ribs, “I mean, would you want to? Be married again?” such wonderful firefam dynamics!! i read this last week, i think, and already reread it this past week as well. a new favourite for sure <3

lonely little love dog | littleghost/@ghostlandtoo | 24k | M

When the 118 is closed for reconstruction after an earthquake, Buck is a floater for different stations around the city. He tries not to let it get to him. Much. this is such a fascinating look at buck's character!! and i LOVED the mara scene <3

parabola | semperama/@semperama | 4.6k | T

“Hey, uh. By the way.” Buck’s been thinking about this, and he has to say it now, or it’ll explode out of him at a much worse time, in a much worse way. “Make sure you don’t forget to change your will again.” truly no fic captures the angst with a happy ending tag like this. also this fic is how i learned that there's a special ao3 tag for eddie's will, which sounds about right. anyway, point is, this is wonderful!!

the last shred of truth in the lost myth of true love | lemonzestywrites/@lemonzestywrites | 25.7k | E

After the events of 6x13, Buck is worried he's lost his charm in bed. Eddie eagerly offers his services to prove otherwise. a reread of one of my favourite fics <3 there's something about the intersection of smut and feelings realisation and introspection in this fic that just hits so very hard, it's lovely <3

the whale fall principle | fastcardotmp3/@fastcardotmp3 | 95.5k | M

Daniel Buckley lives, but he’s still deciding what that means. Maddie is having a baby, but it isn’t her husband’s. And Evan knows his purpose. Until he doesn’t anymore. okay so definitely heed the creator chose not to use archive warnings tag here (there are specific warnings in the chapter notes) but holy shit, this fic. genuinely the best buckley sibling dynamics i have read, like, maybe ever. such a wonderful eddie and chimney and everyone, and such gorgeous writing!! if this one sounds up your alley, you're in for a treat <3

to ebb and flow | akapeterman/@akapeterman | 5.1k | GA

buck is sick, eddie is worried, and christopher is an angel. they'll be okay. i've really been vibing with sickfics lately, can you tell? this is another lovely lovely fic, such great hurt/comfort/domestic fluff!!

wait for me to come home | written_promises | 1.9k | GA

Eddie comes back home to LA from Texas to find Buck waiting for him… in his bed. Because he’s been living in Eddie’s home. and eddie's bed is exactly where buck should be<3 so soft and sweet and beautiful!!

we return to each other in waves | cozycatwriter/@leon-trans-kennedy | 3.1k | GA

“Yes I do. Of course I do. You saved Chris and looked after him the best you could during a tsunami-and you’re still recovering from an embolism from having your leg crushed on the job. The least I could do is look after you and let you stay the night. Besides, Chris would want you to stay.” post-tsunami fics my beloveds <3 it genuinely makes me so happy to see new ones pop up, and this is truly an excellent one!! i love the bed-sharing especially!

you need a friendly hand (and i need action) | AmZamReads | 13.1k | E

Eddie picks up pottery as a hobby and accidentally blows up on Instagram for "accidentally" posting thirst traps of him throwing on the wheel. Buck stumbles across the account and immediately becomes obsessed with Eddie's hands, and horny shenanigans ensues. this fic makes me wish i could make pottery. i love eddie's pottery friends!! and a lovely buddie dynamic too <3

[altacctforastarion]

I think Astarion gets too excited while kissing you, so happy to be with someone that cares for him, that he cares for in return, that he leans in too much, let’s passion overcome him, and accidentally grazes your lip with his fang. I think he pulls away immediately, awkward laughing and apologizing, eyes full of worry. I think if you tell him you’re fine, he worries anyways because you’re important and he hurt you and it doesn’t matter how much blood he takes from you, this blood wasn’t given with consent. I don’t think he licks the blood away, I think he wipes it away instead, and I think he’s resistant to kiss you again, making jokes about how he wouldn’t want to bleed you dry through kisses, deflecting.

I think when you tell him it’s fine he stares at you for too long, considering you. I think when you convince him you’re fine, that it’s just a little cut, nothing compared to the injuries you’ve sustained previously, he’ll agree, but internally this injury is worse because he did it.

I think when he kisses you again it’s gentle, and when he finally tell you how he feels, when he finally admits how guilty it’s made him, and you talk it through with him and comfort him, and then kiss him with passion, trying to prove you aren’t hurt, that you aren’t afraid, he pulls away and it’s not until later that night or the next day that he can handle kisses being more than a peck, or gentle with unopened mouths.

I think he poked at his fangs when no one is around, trying to see how much skin can handle before it breaks so he’s prepared for when it inevitably happens again, so that in the back of his mind he’ll know when to pull away to avoid hurting you again.

I read and write fics where he’s confident, where fang sustained injuries are hot and fun in bed, but I think if he hurt you unintentionally outside of bed, without all the kinks, it would matter, and he’d care a whole hell of a lot.

[nilla03]

“𝘽𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣' 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙨“

𝑃𝑙𝑜𝑡： 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑢𝑐𝑘 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑏𝑎𝑏𝑦 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡𝑜𝑥𝑖𝑐 𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑖𝑛！

𝐶𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠： 𝑎𝑐𝑢𝑠𝑠𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔，𝑠𝑚𝑢𝑡， 𝑙𝑎𝑢𝑛𝑔𝑎𝑔𝑒，𝑜𝑙𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑖𝑛，ℎ𝑒𝑠 𝑠𝑜 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛

The baby monitor cast a dim glow on your nightstand, the soft static filling the silence of your empty bed. You had just put your daughter down for the night, her tiny body finally relaxing after hours of fussing. Your body ached, exhaustion creeping into every limb, but sleep was the last thing on your mind.

Not when Armin still wasn’t home.

You sat at the edge of the bed, fingers curled around your phone, staring at the unanswered texts. Where are you? Are you coming home? Armin, answer me.

Nothing. Just like the last few nights.

Your stomach twisted as the familiar wave of resentment crawled up your spine. This wasn’t new—him disappearing for hours, showing up in the middle of the night with vague excuses. You used to believe him when he said it was work. Used to tell yourself that being the provider, the one out handling things, put pressure on him.

But you weren’t stupid. You knew what a man smelled like when he’d been around another woman.

The sound of the front door opening downstairs made you stand, heart pounding. Heavy footsteps echoed through the quiet house, his movements unhurried, like he had no reason to hide anything.

That only pissed you off more.

By the time he reached the top of the stairs, you were already there, standing in his path with your arms crossed. His blue eyes met yours, and for a split second, something flashed across his face—guilt? Annoyance? He covered it quickly, running a hand through his messy blond hair.

“You’re up?” His voice was calm, like you weren’t standing there ready to rip him apart．

You scoffed. “Yeah, I’m up. Because unlike you, I’ve been home taking care of our daughter all fucking day.”

Armin exhaled, rolling his shoulders like he was already tired of the conversation. “（ఌ）don’t start with this right now. I told you, I had things to—”

“Things to handle?” You took a step closer, fists clenched. “You mean someone to handle?”

His jaw tightened. “Watch yourself.”

You ignored the warning. “No, you watch yourself,” you snapped. “You come home smelling like another bitch, after leaving me here alone again—”

Armin’s eyes darkened. “I told you, it’s work.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Your chest heaved, your breath sharp, but Armin just stared at you, his expression unreadable. He wasn’t even trying to deny it anymore, and that shattered something inside you.

Your vision blurred with tears as rage bubbled up, making your hands shake. Without thinking, you grabbed the first thing in reach—a picture frame from the hallway table—and hurled it at him.

“Fuck you, Armin!”

He dodged it easily, the glass shattering against the wall. His lips pressed into a tight line, but he still wasn’t raising his voice.

That only made you angrier.

“You think you can just do whatever you want?” Your voice cracked, frustration choking you. “Leave me here to raise our baby alone while you go fuck around? Do you even give a shit about us?”

Armin’s calm façade snapped.

In a flash, he had you pinned against the wall, his hands gripping your wrists. His breath was hot against your face

“Say that shit again,” he growled.

You struggled against him, but he didn’t budge. “Let me go.”

Armin let out a low, humorless laugh. "You know nothing," he muttered, shaking his head."You sit in this house and assume shit about me, but you have no fucking clue what I do when I'm out."

His eyes were dark, tired, but there was that usual mocking glint behind them, like he found this whole thing entertaining.

Your jaw clenched so tight it hurt. "You-"

"Lower your fucking voice," he hissed.

His free hand pointed toward the nursery door down the hall. "She is sleeping."

Before you could get another word in, he picked you up completely, his veiny arms manhandling you so quickly made you wince before he dropped you onto the couch, your body bouncing against the cushions as he ripped his shirt over his head. The glow from the streetlights outside cast harsh shadows over his toned chest, the dark ink of his tattoos.

You didn't get a chance to admire him before he was on you again, his hands yanking your thighs apart, his weight pressing you down into the couch.

Your hips rolled up into his, your nails digging into his biceps as you dared to push back.

"You think you can just come home smelling like another bitch and I'll just-"

Armin cut you off with a bruising kiss, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, swallowing your words, stealing your air. His hands tangled in your hair, pulling hard enough to make your scalp burn.

"You think I touched her like this?" he taunted, lips brushing against yours, his hands roaming, gripping, possessive. "Think I let her talk back to me the way you do?"

His rough hands spread your thighs, gripping the tan inner skin so hard you could cry before rubbing his fingers beneath the soft fabric. He moved your panties to the side

Feeling how soaked you already were, how easy it was for his fingers to slip through your folds, teasing, taunting.

shoving two fingers inside you without warning, making you cry out. "You were just screaming at me, now you're dripping down my fucking hand?"

Your head turned to the side refusing to look at how pathetic you really were

"That's my girl," he murmured, his lips ghosting over yours. "Always talking shit, but always taking everything I fucking give you."

You didn't even have time to respond before he was ripping your panties off, shoving his jeans down just enough to free his cock, his tip red and angry already leaking, aching to be inside you.

He spread your folds, fucking into you, his hips snapped into yours. He was so mean, one hand gripping your throat while the other pinned your wrists above your head.

"This what you wanted?" he taunted, his hips snapping against yours, knocking the breath from your lungs. "Wanted me to come home and put you in your fucking place?"

You whined, back arching, your body overwhelmed by the way he was owning you.

"Look at you," Armin sneered

“F-fuuck you armin!” You could cry at how good this felt, you let out a choked out whine while his grip was tightening around your throat, forcing you to meet his eyes.

the way your legs twitched with every deep thrust. "All you do is bitch and whine, but look at you now-taking this dick"

You glared up at him, tears burning in your eyes, but your body betrayed you. Your walls clenched around him, your thighs tightening as if to keep him from pulling away.

Armin chuckled, shaking his head. his free hand grabbing your jaw, squeezing your cheeks. "You were just throwing shit at me ten minutes ago, now you can't even think straight, can you?"

he sneered, picking up his pace again, slamming into you now, dragging a scream from your lips. "Think you get to tell me what the fuck to do? You don't run a fucking thing"

Your head was spinning, your hands twisting in his grip. "I hate you," you choked out, voice shaking.

"Yeah?" He pulled out completely before slamming back inside, knocking the breath from your lungs. "Then why's this pussy sucking me in, huh?"

You sobbed, nails digging into his arms, body shaking with every brutal thrust.

"You don't get to hate me," he murmured, voice dark, low. "You belong to me, baby. This pussy?" He grabbed your thigh, spreading you wider, fucking deeper. "Mine. That little attitude?" He dragged his lips against your ear, his breath hot. "Mine. You can scream, throw shit, slap me all you want, but at the end of the day?"

His hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your vision blur.

"You're still gonna let me fuck you like this."

Your body was on fire, your pride crumbling with every rough snap of his hips, with every filthy word he spat down at you.

"You gonna cry, baby?" Armin taunted, watching the way your lashes fluttered, the way your thighs trembled. "Go on. Cry for me”

Your lips parted, a choked, desperate moan escaping before you could stop it.

Your breath came in ragged gasps, your body still trembling from the force of everything. His body was still pressed against yours, his chest rising and falling with every breath.

Armin stayed there for a moment, his hands lightly gripping your waist as if to keep you in place, as if he needed to keep you there.

But then, his voice cut through the tension, low and a little rough, like he'd been holding something back the entire time.

“I didn’t sleep with anyone else”

You froze, your chest still heaving as you slowly turned your head to look at him, unsure if you'd heard him correctly.

His eyes met yours, unwavering, dark with an intensity that matched the rawness of the moment.

"You think l'd do that to you?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper, but the question hung in the air like an accusation.

"I've been working late," he continued, his tone softer now, almost coaxing, as if trying to ease the tension between you. "But it's been work. Nothing else. I swear."

"You sure?" you murmured, still unsure, your voice shaky.

"Yeah, baby, I'm sure."

𝑈𝑔ℎ 𝑖 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑟𝑡𝑏𝑎𝑔 𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑖𝑛 <3

[sirhamburrger]

you’ve always been good in english without needing to try too hard - after all, you have spoken it for many years. the grammar and vocabulary taught in japanese high schools is frankly much too easy for you, and you get perfect scores more often than not.

but along comes rin itoshi, and suddenly you don’t feel all that confident in yourself anymore. pop quiz on the latest literature text? he’s writing just a little more on his answer sheet than you, and you’re fairly certain his answers are better, too.

it makes you grow to hate him. you’re not proud of it, but you can’t help the way jealousy rears its ugly head and says bad things about his bangs when you pass him in the hallway. or the way he sounds when he scoffs at any minor inconvenience. or the way the midday sunlight reflects off his side profile and makes it look like he’s glowing. or the way his infuriatingly long lower lashes are all too obvious when he glances at you.

but it all comes to a head when the teacher pairs the two of you up for a class project, and he’s stepping into your bedroom and sitting in your swivel chair.

“what are you looking at me like that for?” he says rather stiffly in perfect english.

“what’re you looking at me like that for?” you fire back. you shift uncomfortably under his piercing gaze, crossing your legs as you settle onto your bed.

“you should know i’d rather not be here,” he says, not even having the decency to look you in the eye. you fight the urge to roll your eyes at him, then realise you have free will and do it anyway. he simply maintains eye contact with you, apathetic as ever.

you clench your jaw. “you’re just an insipid little asshole, aren't you?"

he turns and just stares.

"what did you say to me?"

“forget it,” you sigh, rubbing your temples. “let’s just get started already -”

“no, i’m serious.” now it’s your turn to stare at him, utterly baffled as you frown at his strangely… serious expression. “could you repeat what you said?”

“i, uh, called you an asshole. an insipid asshole, to be exact.”

“and that means?”

”lacking in interest or flavour, i guess. just - boring, to put it simply.”

he’s scribbling away in his notebook now - from where he procured it, you’ll never know - and you watch on in silence, mildly curious.

“i’ve kept notebooks like this since i was twelve,” he says, deadpan, having predicted the question you were about to ask. “we can’t all naturally have large vocabularies like you.”

and this makes you start to think that maybe, just maybe, the high-and-mighty rin itoshi isn’t really as arrogant as you thought after all.

every meeting after that is less tense, and you find yourself opening up to him more and more. talking about teachers, classmates, other school things. sometimes even about his soccer and your own interests. and every time you see him, you’ve got a new word for him to learn. (some of them are rather unflattering, but he doesn’t seem to mind his expanding vocabulary.)

and when you see him on national television playing in some neo egoist league, you feel like a proud mother hearing him use the very english insults you’ve taught him on his opponents.

(it’s also kind of hot, but you’re not going to admit that to his face.)

[meadowfics]

no mercy

yandere!cho sang-woo x f!reader

one of the players grows obsessed with you since you were similar to him

warnings: yandere!sangwoo, reader/you have questionable morals since you commit a huge betrayal due to a strong sense of survival. mentions of death. age gap relationship, since reader is intended to be between 20-23 while sang woo is 46. changed plot from season one. the original character who is not reader is player 102.

you never thought you'd end up here.

your eyes tired, wearing a green tracksuit, number 111 stitched onto your chest like a mark of your desperation.

the scent in the room was thick with fear, tension, and unspoken threats.

everyone here had something in common: debt, misery, nothing much left to lose.

you? your debt wasn’t from reckless gambling or bad business deals like most of these other people here.

yours was from surviving.

years of hospital stays, surgeries, medications.

your childhood was spent in the hospitals, making sure that your body could grow healthily.

there were bills that kept stacking up even after you were finally healthy.

they said you were lucky to have made it out alive, but now you owed more money than you could ever pay back.

so when the salesman offered you a chance, you took it.

you didn’t suffer through years of hospitals, pain, and fear just to come here and die in some twisted game.

you were going to survive. no matter what it took.

the first night in the dormitory, you kept to yourself.

somehow, she found you..

player 102.

hot pink hair, too bright for this place, too carefree for someone stuck in a death game.

"hey, you look miserable,"

she plopped down beside you, stretching her legs out.

you didn’t respond.

just kept your arms crossed, watching the others.

"so, we’re both young. everyone else here is nearly middle aged, I think we should stick together,"

she continued, ignoring your silence.

"not a fan of getting stabbed in my sleep."

you eyed her for a moment before shrugging.

"fine."

you didn’t trust her, not yet.

she was right...it was better to have someone.

however, there was another player keeping a lookout on you.

player 218. sang-woo.

the man who kept his expression unreadable but watched everything.

at first, you didn’t notice him.

however, he noticed you. immediately.

you weren’t like the others.

you weren’t crying, begging, or making desperate alliances.

you were calculating. quiet. smart.

and he liked that.

before the second game is when you knew that 218 existed.

you overheard player 067 whispering to 218, the words

"melting sugar" slipping through the cracks.

your brain clicked instantly.

dalgona.

so when the masked men led you into a room filled with symbols

circle, star, umbrella, triangle.

you didn’t hesitate.

you immediately walked toward the triangle line, yanking 102 with you.

"what the hell? why so confident?"

she asked, letting you drag her along.

"just trust me."

sang-woo saw you move first.

his lips twitched.

you knew.

not a second of hesitation.

not a moment of doubt.

you had figured it out just like him.

he almost smirked when he saw you pull your ally along without question.

good girl, he thought.

you know how to survive.

he didn’t take his eyes off you as you worked on your honeycomb.

you handled the needle too well.

precise. careful. controlled.

when your triangle popped out perfectly, you even gave 102 a little smirk.

"told you,"

you murmured to her.

sang-woo clenched his jaw, barely paying attention to his own work.

you were dangerous.

smart.

capable.

and he wanted you.

he watched the way your fingers moved, steady despite the sweat on your skin.

the way your lashes lowered when you focused.

the way your lips parted slightly as you concentrated.

you had no idea he was studying you like prey.

"don’t worry, y/n," he thought.

"i’ll protect you."

"i’ll make sure you survive. you don’t even need to know."

because in sang-woo’s mind, you were already his.

back in the dorms, you and 102, who turns out to be named anya, sat on a shared bed, splitting the bland, dry rice and kimchi they gave you.

it wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep you alive.

"so, what brought you here?"

you asked, poking at your food with the tiny spoon they handed out.

anya stretched her legs out, sighing dramatically.

"oh, you know. influencers, shopping sprees, lavish trips. that kind of stupidity."

you raised an eyebrow.

"influencer?"

she scoffed.

"was. past tense. brand deals, sponsorships, all that shit. i thought i was rich when i really wasn’t. I got "cancelled" for some stupid shit and now I am here!"

she rambled for nearly thirty minutes, talking about her reckless spending, the money she blew through, the fake friends who ditched her when she went broke.

you let her talk, not minding the conversation.

she was easy to listen to, and at least she had a sense of humor about her downfall.

she turned the question on you.

"what about you, y/n?"

you took a small bite of rice, hesitating for a second before answering.

"hospital bills."

anya paused mid-chew, glancing at you. then, she nodded.

"ohhh okay."

something inside you twisted. maybe you should have kept that to yourself.

maybe that was something she didn’t need to know.

did she see it as a weakness?

did she think you were fragile?

you didn’t know her true intentions yet.

from across the room, sang-woo was wondering the same thing.

he leaned against the metal bunk, arms crossed, eyes sharp as he studied you and anya.

he didn’t trust her, not when she was getting that close to you.

she seemed harmless, but so did a lot of people before they revealed their true colors.

the girl had bright pink hair.

she didn’t exactly scream dangerous.

still, he didn’t like how easily you opened up to her.

as gi-hun talked to play 001 beside him, he looked ahead at you.

anya was the first to notice him watching.

she smirked, leaning in slightly.

"don’t freak out, but that player has been staring you down since we got back from dalgona."

you frowned, confused.

"who?"

anya subtly tilted her head toward player 218.

you followed her gaze and met his eyes.

sang-woo was staring right at you.

the first thing that crossed your mind?

he's sexy.

it wasn’t just that.

he wasn’t like other people who got caught staring and looked away quickly.

he held eye contact, unbothered, as if he was waiting to see what you would do.

only when player 456 called his name did he finally turn away.

anya snorted.

"oh no. you’ve got that look in your eye."

you blinked.

"what look?"

"the ‘i think he’s hot’ look."

she grinned, wiggling her eyebrows.

"don’t fall for it, y/n. he might stab you in your sleep."

you giggled, nudging her.

"shut up!"

even as you joked, you could still feel the heat in your face.

from across the room, sang-woo nearly smirked.

he had seen the way you looked at him.

he was going to make sure you kept looking at him.

when it was lights out, you lay there, staring at the dark ceiling, listening to the slow, steady breaths of the other players.

the dorm was eerily quiet, except for the occasional rustle of someone shifting in their sleep.

beside you, anya was curled up, her pink hair spilling over the pillow.

the girl's breathing was soft and even.

peaceful.

untouched by the paranoia that clawed at your mind.

you waited, making sure she was truly asleep before you carefully pushed yourself up from the bed.

this was stupid.

you knew it.

you didn’t care.

moving quickly and quietly, you weaved through the rows of bunk beds, walking across the open floor and walking through bunks until you reached the other side of the dormitory.

you knelt down in front of player 218’s bed.

sang-woo’s eyes were closed, but the moment you got close, you could feel it...he was awake.

sangwoo's breathing was too steady, his posture too tense, as if he had been expecting something.

his eyes flickered open.

and the second he saw you, he sat up.

"sorry if i woke you up,"

you whispered.

he stared at you, his face unreadable.

then, his lips twitched just slightly.

"no, you’re not."

you swallowed, caught off guard by how easily he read you.

"i just… i just wanted to talk to you."

"can’t sleep?"

his voice was low, smooth.

you shook your head.

he studied you for a second, then shifted, making space beside him.

without thinking, you scooted closer, sitting down next to him on the bed.

both of you sat in silence, eyes scanning the dark dormitory, watching the scattered bodies of sleeping players.

"what brings you here?"

he asked, his tone casual, but his eyes sharp.

you hesitated, already regretting your answer before it even left your mouth.

"hospital bills."

as soon as you said it, you cringed.

you had made the same mistake again.

telling people things they didn’t need to know.

you had no idea what sang-woo’s intentions were, no idea what kind of person he really was.

when you glanced at him, there was nothing threatening in his expression.

he nodded, and his voice was calm when he said,

"debt."

you nodded in return. most people were here for that.

suddenly, a wave of exhaustion hit you, making your body feel heavier.

you let out a soft yawn, rubbing your arm.

sang-woo noticed immediately.

"you should get some sleep,"

he said.

you sighed, not wanting to go back just yet.

"i don’t know if i can."

he thought for a moment, then said,

"i’ll walk you back."

you looked at him, surprised.

the idea of him walking with you made you feel… safe.

some kind of invisible shield was around you just by being near him.

you nodded, and together, you slipped back through the darkness.

when you reached your bed, you laid down beside anya, adjusting under the thin blanket.

sang-woo crouched beside you, his presence lingering.

you blinked up at him sleepily.

"you don’t have to stay."

but he did.

he stayed for another half hour, sitting silently by your bed, watching.

making sure no one tried anything stupid.

making sure no one touched his girl.

later on after the tug of war game, something inside you shifted.

the feeling of your body being pulled toward death, the sheer force it took to survive, the way you had to trust complete strangers just to stay alive

it made you realize something.

trust was temporary.

survival was everything.

you could feel some of your morals slipping, piece by piece.

it was only a matter of time before trust meant nothing.

anya didn’t seem to take the same lesson from it.

she was freaking out.

you noticed how she started muttering under her breath, shaking more often, picking at her nails until they bled.

she wasn’t built for this.

sang-woo? he was the opposite.

cold. calculating. calm.

you found yourself sticking closer to him, not entirely sure why, but knowing he was the safest option to be around.

when it was time for the glass bridge game, all hell broke loose.

you were in front of sang-woo, anya was in front of you, and some random man was in front of anya.

the tension was suffocating.

one by one, players were screaming, falling to their deaths, bodies smacking against the floor below like insects against a windshield.

the only ones left were 456, 067, sang-woo, you, anya, and the man at the front.

the man was trying to inspect the glass, claiming he could tell which one was weak, taking his sweet time.

the clock was running out.

three minutes left.

anya snapped, her voice sharp, full of panic.

"can you take any fucking longer?"

the man turned back, offended, but didn’t say anything.

two minutes, thirty seconds.

finally, he made his move.

he chose wrong.

the man's scream echoed, his body disappeared into the void below, glass shards flying.

"all of that for nothing,"

player 067 muttered.

you nodded, feeling your heart hammer against your ribs.

now, it was anya’s turn.

she froze.

the slavic's hands were shaking, her breath coming out in sharp, uneven gasps.

you tried to keep her calm.

"anya, it’s okay, you’ll pick the right one."

she didn’t move.

sang-woo suddenly stepped onto your glass tile.

your breath caught in your throat.

for a split second, you thought.. was he going to push me off?

no.

instead, he pressed himself right behind you, his body warm, solid, steady.

the man's big hand found your arm, gripping it gently, keeping you in place as you both watched anya.

"anya, come on!"

your patience was wearing thin.

anya sucked in a shaky breath, eyes darting between the two tiles in front of her.

"i’m sorry, i’m trying to guess."

two minutes.

finally, she jumped.

the right one.

everyone let out a breath of relief as they followed onto the next safe glass ahead.

except sang-woo.

he stayed right behind you onto the next glass.

you smirked slightly at the way his body heat pressed into yours.

one row left.

you looked at anya.

"okay, you got it right last time, now do it again."

you hear player 456 from the far back yell.

she was trembling, sweat dripping down her forehead.

"i don’t—i don’t know."

one minute, thirty seconds.

"anya, pick one, goddammit!"

your voice cracked, frustration leaking through.

"i’m sorry,"

she whispered, eyes darting between the last two panels.

one minute.

something inside you snapped.

you couldn’t wait anymore.

sang-woo shifted slightly, sensing it.

you turned, moving him off your back slightly.

then, you did something terrible.

you jumped onto the same glass tile as anya.

the russian's breath hitched, her whole body going rigid as you stood right behind her.

"anya, i’m sorry. forgive me."

she barely had time to turn her head before you shoved her forward.

she hit the glass.

it shattered.

anya's scream pierced through the air, her arms flailing as she plunged onto the ground below.

the pink hair was the last thing you saw before she disappeared.

you didn’t even breathe before hopping onto the correct glass, your heart hammering against your ribs.

twenty seconds left.

everyone else followed...sang-woo, 067, 456.

all of you had survived.

when you turned back, searching for any sign of anya’s body, it was too far down.

you couldn’t process it before—

the entire bridge exploded.

glass shards flew in every direction, slicing through your skin like razor blades.

you shielded your face, feeling the sting of cuts across your body, blood trickling down your arms.

everything blurred.

you felt yourself stumble, someone’s hand grabbing your waist, holding you upright.

sang-woo.

his grip was firm, keeping you from falling.

when 456 and 067 walked ahead, sangwoo stayed beside you.

the man's lips were close to your ear, his breath steady while yours was ragged.

"you did what you had to do."

your hands were shaking.

anya was gone.

the girl who had slept beside you.

the girl who had joked with you.

you pushed her to her death.

the worst part?

you didn’t regret it.

by the end of the last game.. the dorms were empty now.

just you and sang-woo.

no more screams.

no more bloodstained floors.

no more players, just two survivors standing in the aftermath of hell.

you had won.

you both had.

the massive room that once held hundreds of people was now eerily silent.

the beds, the sheets, the steel walls.. it all looked the same, but it felt different.

everyone else was dead.

you turned, facing sang-woo.

the man's expression was unreadable, always was.

the man's eyes locked on you like he was memorizing this moment.

"so," you exhaled, voice hoarse.

"we made it."

he nodded.

"we did."

"and we split the money."

the words left your lips, but something about them felt off.

sang-woo agreed.

he had said it himself.

you would split the money, go your separate ways, start over.

the way he looked at you now...

you knew that was never his plan.

"right,"

sang-woo murmured, stepping closer.

"we split the money."

sangwoo's tone was smooth, but there was a finality to it.

you understood exactly what that meant.

he wasn’t letting you go.

he had killed for you.

067. 456. gone.

you weren’t stupid.

he and 456 had some sort of a connection, something deeper than just the games.

maybe they were friends? you had no clue since he did not tell you.

shoot, he did not even tell you 456 and 067's real names.

you had seen the way they looked at each other before it all came crashing down.

however, sang-woo chose you.

he had to.

there was no hesitation when he ended 456.

no second thoughts when 067 bled out.

he did it all for you.

the 45.6 billion wasn’t just his money.

it wasn’t even just your money.

it was yours together.

blood money. tainted, filthy, but yours.

"i hope you understand,"

sang-woo said, his fingers brushing against your wrist, his touch deceptively gentle.

"i didn’t do all of this just to watch you walk away."

sangwoo's grip tightened slightly, firm enough to send a clear message.

you were his.

the man's breath was warm as he leaned in, eyes dark with something unreadable.

"you're coming with me."

you didn’t argue.

you didn’t fight it.

deep down, you had already accepted it.

you didn’t mind at all.

masterlist

[persicipen]

𑑛 “IN HIS HANDS” ﾉ ALHAITHAM. GENSHIN IMPACT

gn reader ﾉ words 1.4k ✘ you’re a mess (affectionately). needy making out. sweet bantering. also fingering. he gives you the best orgasm of your life ✘ ADULT CONTENT ﾉ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Whatever has happened between you two — an exchange of sorts, that’s for sure, filled with misunderstood sentences and apologies and laughter — now dawns on you in the form of his handsome body closing the distance between you two. Alhaitham grins at that, such a smug smile of victory painting his face because he’s well aware that your initial reluctance was because of your bashfulness.

Still, he’d appreciate it a lot if you weren’t so quick to call him a blockhead when denying what you truthfully want. He knows you don’t mean anything bad by it; just some harmless teasing to get back at him when he makes jokes about the time when he couldn’t speak right with a hint of self-derision.

“I’m starting to think you’re too scared to admit I will make you feel a tad too good, hmm.” His lips find yours once again, but this time they have no hurry — the kiss is deep and passionate and every inch of his body comes to meet with yours, trapping your frame underneath.

“You t-think of yourself too highly!” You bite back with a giggle before a low moan of contentment escapes your mouth.

For someone so inscrutable around the edges he sure knows how to work that tongue, tasting every part of you with utmost care. In between kisses, you realise how silly all this is. Why can’t you just let go of any formality and give in to such a splendid idea? If not for you, then at least for him; he seems to have much better plans and an even absurder mind than you ever dared to explore. Surprisingly, as stiff as he appears at first glance because no way anyone would assume a scribe has such lewd thoughts running wild behind those turquoise eyes.

Well, you aren’t so dull-witted either. A bold move of your fingers against his pants makes him hum a wee louder, which encourages you to act with a bit more urgency and tug at the buttons to get them loose. Albeit it takes but one swift movement from his hand to stop you from doing so — he grabs your wrist midway and pulls away just enough to look down at you with mischief gleaming in his red irises. The kind of gleeful expression only a man who knows what’s coming next would show.

“Tch, how impatient can you be…”

You should’ve counted his remark as a threat given the treatment that follows. You should’ve known that the greatest weapon of the scribe is his fingers. And so, with touching and pressing and tapping and massaging, he moulds your body into that pliant self. His name leaves your lips as a quiet sigh, all previous complaints forgotten thanks to such attentive and tender ministrations.

No matter how heavenly it feels already, being touched and taken care of like this, your gut churns with frustration and dissatisfaction since his actions are purposely geared towards getting you riled up instead of helping you reach any sort of release. Though you aren’t about to ask for that with words, not yet anyway. If he needs more incentive to keep going further, though…

You attempt to untangle your trapped arm once again, fumbling a little while holding onto his shoulder. He arches an eyebrow with curiosity when his own light gasp breaks through the facade of such an adept liar. Still, the twitch and swelling of his cock in his pants confirm how much it took out of him to keep silent thus far.

“Why won’t you let yourself go, too?” You breathe out once your wrist is freed. The pads of your fingers tease his jawline, ghosting over his skin until they dip below his chin to lift his head slightly. He is confused by your inquiry, but not discouraged, per se, especially now that you look quite motivated to get him hot as well. “You think the only one enjoying this should be me… What happened with ‘I also deserve some of it’, huh?”

Your free hand slides downwards to grasp his crotch. Through the thick fabric, you notice how hard he is; that must’ve been painful indeed. It’s enough evidence for you to rub and squeeze a little, which prompts a satisfied growl from him, a sign that you’re right on track.

“Later. It is about you, after all.” His response comes in the shape of kisses along your neck and collarbones, though never enough to bruise — merely a tiny amount of pressure for you to remember it’s he who left them there.

At times, it almost tickles how delicate his lips are upon your skin, like feathers falling down a flock of birds flying high in the skies. The warmth that emanates from them, however, reminds you of where else you’d like to feel those lips. Alas, he works on you with his thumb and his other digits instead, stroking in circular motions that cause goosebumps to run up and down your whole figure.

It isn’t long until you arch your back ever so slightly, trying to escape what’s beginning to drive you insane; or at least crave something more than that. Every nerve under your sensitive spots is alight, yearning for more stimulation than his meek actions, even when that palm of his brushes against every sensitive area that turns your vision blurry.

You beg him to slow down, to give you some time to relax after barely reaching your high; he is merciless, dragging the pads of his fingers against the spongy spot deep inside of you, trying to force out of you another cry of pleasure. It crashes upon you like thunder during a heavy storm. Alhaitham’s touch makes you clench and curl into yourself without an ounce of shame. All of your attention lays solely on those fingertips dancing so flawlessly through your throbbing body, driving you mad.

His eyes, burning with a prideful need to prove his knowledge, are focused on your glowing face. Absolutely mesmerised by the moans escaping your mouth, Alhaitham finds a great passion in making you a mess — it feels so good knowing he can reduce you to such a state, mewling his name with tears gathering under your lashes.

He takes you into his muscular arms, tongue licking your tender skin, leaving behind wet trails. A shudder runs through you as he pulls back, your body falling limply on the plush mattress below you. His breath is heavy and ragged, looking at you like this — with lust. Once he is satisfied, he lets go of the last drops of moisture that managed to make it to your thighs. He draws himself closer to you, resting his forehead against yours as he whispers sweet praise into your ear.

“You were doing so well…” Spoken in his breathy, shuddering voice, it echoes through your heart, down to your core clenching on nothing but the remaining wetness.

It only makes you feel even more sensitive than before, and you cannot help but let out an audible moan again. You can almost hear the sound vibrating throughout his body as well, and he knows he will not have the strength to stop now, especially after what just happened between you. He kisses your neck once more, his hand reaching underneath your blouse, running his rough fingertips along your skin.

You whine again, sensing goosebumps rise all over your figure at his touch. He begins kissing all of your face, leaving you gasping for air. You close your eyes tightly and try to keep your breathing steady, but his hands roam through your chest, teasing you in a way that seems to know your weakest spots — driving you crazy.

After a while, when his lips leave your skin, the scribe rests his chin on your shoulder, both of you staring at each other without saying a word.

“Are you still okay?” he asks softly, a gentle smile playing around his mouth and his fingers trailing gently up your stomach.

“I am. I’m sorry I ruined the bedsheets though,” you say apologetically, feeling the embarrassment creeping up your spine.

You have never done anything like this before. Never experienced anything of such intensity.

“It’s fine,” he replies, a small laugh breaking past his lips as he caresses your cheek with his thumb. “I wouldn’t mind if you did it again…” he whispers seductively, his gaze fixated on yours.

Your cheeks burn, and you nod slowly, biting your lip as you turn your head away from him, trying so hard not to show how affected you are. It isn’t easy, seeing Alhaitham looking at you in that kind of manner. How could you refuse this man?

[more-mara]

NO WAIT please talk more about WAG!Carlos because I actually REALLY LOVE WAG!Carlos and it's been on my mind for a long time and I felt like I'm alone in this. I really like the established relationship idea of Oscar looking mighty walking alone in the paddock, but once Carlos is there, walking alongside Oscar and holding his hand, everyone can see who's the dom and who's the babygirl 😂 not that dom dom but like who tops and bottoms.

In my mind Carlos is a man in finance or consulting. Because, damn, everytime I picture him in fitted shirts and dark coloured slacks my mind goes brrr. They share an apartment in London and Oscar always goes back home after races to him. Carlos visits Oscar for races everytime he can (but he always makes time for Silverstone), and everytime he visits, the journalists and social media literally go very crazy about "Piastri's very hot, sculpted by the God himself, Spanish boyfriend". Oh and Oscar claiming the Spain GP as his home race because "my partner is Spanish and he lives and breathes Real Madrid and I'm very sure I'll marry him so".

I can't picture of the announcement of Oscar coming out, but I think I like the idea of soft launching first through his instagram or maybe Estrella Galicia makes Oscar and Lando talk Spanish slangs and Oscar aces all the questions and be like "My boyfriend is Spanish and he likes to teach me Spanish terms" something like that. Then boom Carlos coming to a race with him.

Eventhough Carlos is the one who tops and is very good in bed, but him also being soft and fluffy and calls Oscar with pet names in Spanish (tesoro, cariño, mi amor, etc) and cooks for him everytime Oscar's back home.

I can picture Oscar on break, dumping holiday pictures on his instagram and everyone goes crazy of Carlos shirtless and flaunting his abs and his super fit body in one (or many) of the pictures. Carlos having his instagram private and everyone will be asking Oscar to let his boyfriend open his instagram for public lol.

I'm going to stop because if I continue, I'll literally dump my thoughts (including the NSFW ones) and this ask will be very long lol thank you for reading my rants!

Oh, you’ve been THINKING about this lol. Anon I love this please continue. Side note, I had written an entire response to this once already but tumblr deleted it 🤡 I can’t remember half the shit I originally said but here we go lmao

I 100% see the man in finance vibes I just wanted to go against the grain and say something else lol but I absolutely imagine him in some white collar job. He constantly wears tailored suits, even in hot weather which Oscar will complain to no end about but ultimately it won’t change Carlos’ mind because it’s his brand.

Oscar gets a little irked by it because he’s supposed to be the celebrity, yet he give off so much just a guy energy when he’s walking hand in hand with Carlos. Oscar highkey loves the attention which is why it bothers him so much when Carlos steals it from him.

In comes the Spanish gp and Carlos is in yet another equivalent price of a mortgage suit. Osc saying it’s “basically my home gp now, I guess,” with a giggle as he eyes the screen where Carlos is clapping and smirking when he notices the attention on him- sending a little wink towards the camera that has Oscar stumbling over his words.

The media always goads Oscar for being “the girlfriend” in the relationship (let’s be real, media love to heteroify queer relationships and would 100% do it to them) but it’s always water off Oscar’s back as he redirects the conversation to how sexy and successful his boyfie is, “He’s just bought a new property in New York 🙂,”

Regarding coming out, Oscar is absolutely of the “I don’t need to come out, I’m just gonna live my life,” stance. He probably drops a “my partner is opening a new business back in London, he’d definitely know better than me if that’s a good idea,” when an interviewer asks about whether he’d buy a house in Monaco. Twitter goes crazy “DID OSCAR JUST SAY HE???!!” and that’s that, now Carlos shows up everywhere he can to show off who Oscar managed to pull.

Oscar loves the pet names but can’t stand it when Carlos uses them in public- goes beet red when Carlos calls him ‘mi amor’ when speaking with a journalist.

NSFW because I can’t help myself- Carlos always refuses to fuck Oscar on a race weekend because “I cannot affect your performance,” and Oscar fucking hates it. Oscar is lowkey needy in bed and can be a little insatiable at times, especially during a stressful week (e.g. a race week) so he goes out of his way to tease Carlos every chance he gets- even in public to see how long it will take for Carlos to snap. Except Carlos never does and remains firm in his stance which Oscar whines and complains about constantly until Sunday night when Carlos finally touches him and fucks the weeks brattiness out of him

Side note, Carlos is good in bed, like- really good, to the point where Oscar can’t even think about anything except for Carlos’ insane dick game. Carlos is experienced in so many ways that Oscar gets insanely jealous every time he thinks about it- getting angry at the thought of Carlos fucking anyone besides him. It’s a funny contrast because Oscar was basically celibate when he and Carlos first met and their first time in bed had Oscar experiencing pleasures he never though possible.

And yeah, Oscar just fully posting thirst traps of Carlos to make everyone jealous that only he gets to see it on a daily basis.

[morgana-larkin]

Alright, here's part 5 of 'Just Tired'. I have to say that I was very happy and surprised that someone asked me when this was coming out and it made my entire week so I want to thank whoever sent that! I just have to that in this part, shit gets real. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: I seem to have reached my limit of amount of links I can add to a post so I'm splitting up my Melissa fics. I'm splitting up the one shots and the series fics.

Just Tired - Part 5

Warnings: Manipulative relationship, swearing, two small masturbation parts

Words: 2.6k

You look down between your legs and see a mess of red hair as she eats you out. You feel all the sensations she’s giving you and you can’t help but moan out her name.

“Melissa, right there.” You say breathlessly and she looks up at you and you both lock eyes. You feel as you get closer and closer to an orgasm, you’re right at the edge. Melissa goes to do one more suck on your clit and then your eyes snap open. 

You look around, breathing hard and realise that you’re in your room. Once you regain your senses you notice that it was your alarm that awoke you from your very pleasant sex dream of you and Melissa. You honestly didn’t know that you’d be having sex dreams about her but she’s just that captivating to you, who knew you’d like stubborn fiery women but it honestly doesn’t surprise you. You shut off your alarm and then you feel wetness between your legs and sigh. You get up and hop in the shower. You bring back memories of the dream and give yourself an orgasm in the shower.

“Second orgasm I’ve had to give myself because of this woman.” You mutter to yourself as you try to control your breathing. You then quickly get ready, grab your things as well as your helmet and head out the door.

Melissa is lying awake in bed, she didn’t get much sleep last night as she realises that she might be developing a crush on you. She hears her alarm go off and she quickly goes to turn it off and then goes back to staring at her ceiling for a couple minutes. She then gets up and goes in the shower. She lets the hot water pour over her and she takes a few deep breaths. Even though she might be developing a crush, she can never act on it as she’s married to Joe, even if she’s slightly tempted to act on it.

She then starts trailing her hand down in between her legs and finds her clit. She starts circling it and she lets out a moan at it feeling so good, better than if Joe was doing it. Melissa closes her eyes and feels how good it feels, how she feels her orgasm building quickly. She leans on the shower wall and keeps feeling the pleasure build until she’s right at her peak. Suddenly you flash in her mind and then her orgasm rushes through her. She takes a few seconds to catch her breath and then she realises what happened and she covers her mouth.

“No no no. I can’t have feelings for someone else.” She mutters and grabs her hair. Then a few tears stream down her face and she covers her eyes with her hands as she cries for a good minute “It’s just all the compliments, it’s just nice to hear them, that’s all. I love Joe and I’m his wife, and that’s the way it is.” She mutters and then a thought comes to her. “The damn bastard who hasn’t given me a compliment since I married him.” She says and throws the bar of soap at the wall out of anger. “If you won’t give them to me then I’ll get them somewhere else.” She says as she calms down. She then finishes her shower, gets ready and gathers her things before she hears a knock at the door.

“Hey Mel-” You start to say before you see her outfit. She’s wearing her iconic black leather pants and a green shirt that may be too inappropriate for school.

“Cat got your tongue?” Melissa says with a smirk. 

“Don’t you think that shirt might be too low for school?” You ask her and she shrugs.

“I’ve worn it to school before.” She tells you and then she winks at you before she walks to her car. “Come on, let’s go.” She says and gets in her car.

“It might be too low for school but it looks really good on you.” You tell her after getting in and she smiles at you. 

“Thanks hon.” She says and then drives you both to work. “So what have you got planned with your kiddos today?” She asks as starts driving to school.

“Oh so much fun. They’re gonna do a family portrait, whatever that looks like to them and they’re gonna present it to the class.” You say excitedly.

“That does sound like fun, and what would your family portrait look like?” She asks and you look at her.

“Oh, I’m not doing it, I’m not a great artist.” You tell her and she can tell there’s something more.

“Not all the kids are either but they’ll still have fun doing it, so can you.” She says and you look down and Melissa glances at you. “You don’t have to tell me about your family but if you want then I’m all ears and maybe I’ll even throw in one question that I’ll have to answer.” She says and you look at her.

“What question?”

“Whatever question you want to ask me.” She says and you look at her.

“You said maybe, so that’s not a certainty.” You say and cross your arms.

“Alright, you can ask one question that I have to answer if you tell me about your family.” She tells you and you think about it.

“Ok deal.” You say and hold your hand out. She quickly shakes it when it’s safe to do so. “My family wasn’t great.” You start with. “They’re religious and they didn’t support me when I came out. They tried to get me to be straight, to be normal, but I kept fighting with them everytime. The day I turned 18 I moved in with a friend and went to school to be a teacher. I was able to make enough money to move here with that roommate and I never heard from my parents after I left them.” You tell her and she quirks an eyebrow.

“And after all that you’re still…sane?” She asks and you chuckle.

“I’m able to be myself, that’s what keeps me sane. If I’m not able to be myself then what’s the point of being me?” You say and Melissa looks everywhere but at you for a good 30 seconds as she thinks about what you just said. 

“That’s a good point.” She finally says and you hum.

“Ok, now I get to ask my question and I know exactly what I want to ask.” You say and turn to her. “You might not like it though.” You add and she gives you a weird look.

“Alright, what is it?”

“You said you married Joe because you love him, but why are you still married to him when he doesn’t treat you as he should?” You ask her and she furrows her eyebrows and her jaw drops.

“What?” She asks.

“Do you really not see it?” You ask her and she stops at a red light and looks at you. 

“See what?”

“Out of everything you’ve told me and what I saw on Saturday, he’s not nice to you.” You tell her bluntly and she looks away as the light turns green.

“You’re wrong, he loves me.” She says and she gulps.

“Is that what you keep telling yourself?” You ask, really pushing it as she turns into the parking lot of the school.

“What are you really asking me?” She tells you angrily.

“Why are you married to someone who doesn’t treat you like a queen?” You ask plainly and her eyes widen in shock. “You’ve told me he doesn’t touch you, apologise when he should, or even compliment you.” You add and you see her continue to just stare at you in shock. “You never told me he doesn’t compliment you but with the way you take compliments when I give them, I figured that part out myself.” 

“I don’t need all that stuff to have a happy marriage.” She simply says and then gets out of the car and you follow her.

“Melissa, I might be overstepping… a lot, but what I saw on saturday, it looks like…well, like manipulation.” You say to her face and she looks in your eyes and sees no lies.

“What? I’m not being manipulated.” She says and looks taken back.

“That friend I mentioned who I moved in with when I turned 18, she was in a manipulative relationship without knowing it but another friend of hers found out and helped her and she told me all about it.” You say and she sighs. “It’s easy not to see it because manipulators are good at making the victim think they’re in a loving relationship.” You tell her and she walks away from you and into the school.

“I don’t want to hear another word from you for the rest of the day.” She tells you as you catch up with her. “Got it?” She asks and points a finger at your chest.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped but I’m worried about you.” You tell her.

“Worrying about me and having some sort of crush on me are two very different things.” She tells you and continues walking to the break room.

“What makes you think I have a crush on you?” You ask her and she looks at you, rolls her eyes and scoffs.

“You’re very obvious, kid.” She says and then enters the break room.

Everyone else is able to sense some sort of tension between you and Melissa as soon as you both enter but everyone is smart enough not to bring it up, due to two of them fearing Melissa and the other one thinks it’s too early to be solving anything right now. Barb ends up stopping you in the hallway after you bring your kids to the caf and she drags you to her classroom.

“Barbra, what is it?” You ask her as soon as she closes her door.

“What is going on between you and Melissa?” She says, straight to the point.

“Nothing.” You tell her and she gives you a look that says ‘really?’ “Ok, I may have said some things to her on the way to school that maybe I shouldn’t have.” You say and don’t look her in the eye the entire time.

“What did you say to her?”

“May have mentioned she might be in a…manipulative relationship.” You tell her and look down. “I saw her and Joe on Saturday and it was so clear that she’s in one.” You defend yourself and you hear Barb sigh.

“She is in one.” She confirms and you look at her.

“What?”

“I’ve known her since the very start of her marriage with him.” She says and sits in her chair. “I tried to get her to see it but she’s stubborn and she kept defending him.” She tells you.

“How do we help someone who’s in one, especially when they don’t know it?” You ask her and she looks at you.

“From what I read, drop hints and hope they’ll figure it out.”

“I just dropped the biggest hint of all by telling her plainly and she still can’t see it.”

“Give her time, Melissa is smart but incredibly stubborn and I know it’ll be on her mind. You planted a seed in her mind.” She says.

“I planted a seed but she doesn’t want to speak to me.”

“People in these relationships get defensive as they don’t want to see the truth. She’ll forgive you one day.” She tells you and you sigh. You then get up and open the door and see Melissa there about to knock.

“Melissa!” You say in shock and her jaw drops and just stares at you. Barb looks at the door and sees the two of you just staring at each other for a few seconds.

“I came to see Barb.” Melissa tells you softly and you nod before you walk around her and go to the break room.

“I guess it’s advice day today.” Barb mutters as Melissa watches you walk away. “What is it, Melissa?” She asks her and Melissa snaps out of her trance and goes into Barb’s classroom.

“I saw you weren’t in the break room so I brought your lunch and I want to talk to you anyway.” Melissa tells her and hands Barb her lunch. 

“What did you want to talk about?”

“Y/n said the craziest thing to me this morning. She said I was in a manipulative relationship with Joe.” Melissa says and scoffs before looking at Barb.

“And what’s the issue?”

“Well it’s crazy, I think I would know if I was being manipulated, much less my husband.” Melissa says and paces around the room.

“Do you even know the signs of manipulation?”

“No, what for?”

“How would you know you were being manipulated if you don’t know the signs?” Barb asks her and Melissa freezes.

“Hang on, it sounds as if you’re on Y/n’s side in this.” Melissa tells her.

“Melissa, there’s no sides here, we’re just looking out for you to make sure you’re happy.” Barb tells her carefully.

“Well I am happy so there’s no need to look out for me, unless you're so unhappy in your marriage and you’re looking to take down a happy marriage to make yourself feel better.” Melissa snaps and then storms out while cursing in italian. 

Melissa ends up not speaking to anyone for the rest of the day and blatantly ignores you while she drives you to her place. Whenever you try to talk, she turns up the music and sings, you just gave up after a few attempts and looked out the window.

“Get your damn bike and you can bring yourself to work tomorrow.” She tells you while not looking at you and then enters her house while slamming the door.

You let out a sigh before you go get your bike from the backyard. You roll it out, put on your helmet and then ride home. Melissa watches you from the window as you take off on your bike and she lets out a breath before she throws her sunglasses across the room in anger.

“For fuck sake!” She yells out before she just collapses on the couch. She was starting to open herself out to someone and they’re just trying to tell her what to do. She then thinks that you never told her to do anything, simply stating a worry, Barb too. Why would they both be worried she’s in a manipulative relationship when she’s not? Then she remembers what Barb says about signs and she gets her phone out. She then googles what the signs are in a manipulative relationship. “This will definitely prove I’m not in one and it’ll show them.” Melissa mutters as she clicks on a site and reads them out loud. “Gaslighting, passive aggression, silent treatment, love bombing, guilt tripping, isolation, threats, with…withholding affection, triggering insecurities, confusion, lying and blaming, blame shifting, frequent apologies to the manipulator.” She reads outloud and then she looks into each of them. 20 minutes later she looks up from her phone with a few tears running down her cheeks. She then stand up, grabs a pillow and begins to hit the couch with it over and over again. “SON A FUCKING BITCH!”

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Let me know if you want to be added!

[sleepychenle]

wc: 722. genre: fluff, enemies to ???. tags: haechan's friend!chenle, uni au, mentions of alcohol, kinda mean!chenle. [a/n]: yn is me. i sip on my drink everytime i feel awkward and end up drunk. it’s like a reflex istg. i still struggle w tags btw... lmk if these are not it lmao.

you have no idea why you decided to accept haechan’s invitation.

you’re not the type to party, but somehow it felt like you should go. as if you were going to witness some crazy drama or someone’s entertaining canon event tonight. if you only knew…

as you make your way to the entrance, it hits you. you don’t know anyone here besides haechan, who will be hosting the party and, of course, won’t be with you all night.

“oh hi, yn!” you blink as haechan makes you snap out of your thoughts. “come with me, i’ll introduce you to my friends so you’re not bored while you’re without me” can he read minds? you follow him with no response other than a nervous smile and a small nod.

and it wasn’t that bad! even, you thought you could get along with them… specially with renjun. just for the fact that neither of you wanted to be there. they were all pretty chill guys. all except chenle. the guy that you got paired with to do some calculus homework a couple days before.

he was so stubborn and full of himself… he wouldn’t wait for you to finish and he would lose it whenever you made a mistake. you couldn’t stand each other so you both agreed to work on it separatedly.

you’re not sure when it happened, but now you have a glass of who-knows-what in your hand, sipping every time you felt like chenle was staring at you, probably hating at a distance… and that was, pretty much all the time. that’s how you started to feel tipsy. what a good idea yn! drink every time you feel awkward… what were you thinking? you think to yourself as you sigh.

you decide to go to the bathroom to freshen up a bit. so you excuse yourself and try to make your way there. you are currently in a state where you can’t fully control your body, often bumping into people. but at least you could still think straight… right?

suddenly, you bump into another person. causing you to trip and fall to the floor. or that’s what you thought would happen. you open your eyes and see chenle. you never fell. you can feel his arm wrapped around your waist, and something else… his whole body pressed against yours.

“watch out, yn” he says, with a hint of worry in his tone, but you wouldn't notice anyways. his gaze intense on your features. why isn’t he cursing? why is he looking at me like that? he doesn’t look too bad... not at all.

“you’re kinda hot when you’re not grumpy…” you murmur your thoughts out, gripping his shirt as though you’d fall if you didn’t. he hums. “am i now?” “…can’t say it happens often, though” you press your eyes closed, regretting what you just said. it looks like it’s the only body part you have control of now.

he helps you stand on your feet again, finally (and reluctantly) letting go of you. he bows slightly, as if signaling he is about to go. but then, you call him almost… desperately? “wait!” you don’t even know why you stopped him, and now you have to make an excuse for it. “uhh… did you finish the exercises?”

he turns around “i did… why? you need help with yours?” chenle says with that smug expression he always seems to save just for you. “no… i didn’t want that” your voice get quieter. he raises an eyebrow and gets closer again… incredibly close “oh? what did you want then, yn?”

oh how i love when he calls me by my name… why am i even thinking about this? there is no use in hiding it anymore, right? no, wait yn. think for a moment- “a kiss” you manage to say, so low that only him could hear it… as if it was forbidden.

his smirk widens. and his face is a mixture between amusement and surprise. he leans down and you close your eyes, preparing for the so-wanted kiss. but instead, his mouth hovers right next to your ear and he whispers “ask me again when you’re sober, will you?” he pulls away with a smile and walks away. leaving you there, stunned, flustered and cursing at yourself for not being sober enough.

[cire-things]

My bed seems more comfortable than normal today, warmer. Even if the alarm from my phone blares, I aim to stay in this warm hug of comfort. Yet, instead, I’m reminded by the low groan behind me that I gained a companion from last night's biweekly trip to the dive bar my friends forced me to go to. 

I reach over to my phone, stopping the alarm, not just snoozing it as I normally do, but as I move to begin my day, a strong, warm set of arms keep me in place, “I need to get up, ya dope.” I get a noncommittal groan as a response, along with a kiss placed on the juncture of my neck and shoulder, as well as his arms tightening their grip onto my waist. 

“Let me go ya’ fucker, I gotta get ready for my shift.” I say as I try to wiggle my way free from his calloused hands. 

“S’not what ya called me last night, birdie,” the man responds, leaving a beat of silence before continuing, “Or did I fuck you too stupid for you to remember my name?” his deep voice rumbles out, a light chuckle accompanying his words as I freeze up in realization. “Stay and cuddle, love, you got time.” 

“You pointing out that I might not know your name like you haven't referred to me as two different nicknames, I feel like you don’t know my name!”  I state, returning to me trying to get out of his grip, and as I think I finally am about to get free, he let me go only after whispering out my name. Due to me having moved against his grip and him letting me go, on top of him whispering out my name, I ended up sprawled on the floor.

“C’mon y/n, you think that lowly of me?” his deep voice sings out my name like the call of a siren, he sits up in bed, still in shadow due to my blackout curtains keeping the sun’s rays from view. All I see is his bulking silhouette, I can feel his hot gaze staring down at me, messy hair, naked body, blushing face and all, even in the darkness of my room. 

I jolt myself up from my position, and rush into my bathroom, lightly slamming the door behind me. I hear from my room a genuine belly laugh from the man. I hold my face in my hands for a moment as I stand there in the darkness of my bathroom, contemplating how I ended up in this embarrassing situation. Thinking over the previous night's moments, I flick on the overhead lights and turn on my shower. 

I look over my body in the mirror, hickeys, love bites, and bruises cover many parts of my body. Hips have his handprints ingrained into them, neck has a few bitemarks and hickeys covering them, as does my chest. As the room begins to fill with steam, more of the night's activities come to mind as I look over his markings. 

I mindlessly step into the shower, giving my body respite for the coldness I gained leaving his grip. The heat streams down my body, and my autopilot kicks in as I lose myself in remembering the order of events.

Soft brown eyes stealing glances from across the bar.

Face covered in a mask, momentarily moved for a sip from his dark amber colored glass.

Laughs around me, friends asking the same questions yet he keeps my attention.

A drink appears in front of me, mirroring his own. I look at him again, a nod from him, a nod from me.

We ended up in the bathroom at first. Lips clashing like a hate-fucking-ex-couple. Patrons filing in to do their business, ignoring our two sets of feet in the stall we nabbed. “This is a bit dingy, innit love?” He says to me between stealing my breath away. 

“I live close by, with a large bed, and no roommates.” I responded back as I continued our addictive motions. 

Pushed up against the not so clean stall wall, held up with ease. His lips feel slightly rough, but still plush, moving against mine as if we have done it before. As he finally lets go, his chocolate eyes bore into me with heated intensity. A string of our mixed saliva connects us. He gives me a toothy grin, lips curled upwards, the scars around them, mixed with his patchy stubble makes me want to just lean back in and continue our semi silent conversation.

I am broken from my recollection as the bathroom door opens, the shampoo was just being rinsed from my hair. A slight hesitation comes from him, as if he is worried he is about to overstep, but still is hoping for something. “S’alright for me to join you?” his voice almost whispers out, just barely heard above the rushing water of the shower. 

“Yes love, c’mere.” I say, the last of my shampoo finally running free from my locks. 

“Now who’s using nicknames?” I feel him step in behind me as I face the showerhead. His warm and bulking figure moves close to me, warming my back up the way it had while we were entangled this morning. 

I turned to face him, looking into those brown eyes that first caught my attention last night. “S’only fair… ain’t that right Simon.” As the warm water streams down our bodies together. That same toothy grin from last night paints his face. It’s almost lopsided, almost like his face isn’t used to doing it. But my god if I can’t keep making him smile, I might kneel over and pass on.

“I guess you needed a minute, knew I fucked myself too far into your brain, love” His large hands reach up to cup my cheeks, pulling me into another sickly sweet kiss. I don’t think I can let this end, not when he holds me like glass and his lips feel like the sun is finally shining. 

[worstscholar]

Need to overstimulate Shanks til he's whining and crying and trying to pull away saying its too much but I just pull him back bc he hasn't said the safeword yet no matter how blank his mind is bc he's a whore

my shayla >~<

⋆｡° ໑ Shanks lives for this kind of treatment, he’s in love with how small he feels under your hands, and just surrendering to him, and letting him take what he wants instead of the other way around seems so unappealing to him.

Hot tears roll down Shanks’ cheeks as your hand loosens around his cock. You’ve been teasing him for the better part of an hour without giving him any sort of relief. Every time he so much as twitches up into your hand, you slow down and loosen your grip, and it’s driving him insane. His balls ache, his throat is sore, and his head is spinning from the pressure of your palm on his throat. Your hand tightens around his cock again, and at the same time, you loosen the grip on his throat. Shanks’ cock twitches, and he lets out a ragged gasp for breath, but you don’t let him breathe properly, jerking him off before he gets the chance to exhale.

Shanks’ breathing stutters, and his balls tighten— it’s too much: The head rush, the pleasure, you— “Fuck!” Shanks’ voice cracks as he cums hot and sticky all over his belly and your hand. It’s a lot, the longest streak nearly reaching his jaw. He faintly hears you complain, but he's too busy trying to keep his eyes open and not pass out from the intensity of his orgasm.

“Messy boy,” you tut, a sly smirk spreading across your lips as you get the most devious idea you think you’ve ever had. Shanks makes an unintelligible noise, something soft and pitiful that gets your blood pumping.

You barely register how hard your own cock is, throbbing against the confines of your underwear as you watch your lover shudder under you. Before Shanks’ breathing can relax too much, you swipe your thumb over his messy slit, smirk turning into a grin when his thighs tense and he groans.

“What’s the matter sunshine?” you mock playfully, giving his cock one long stroke from the root, back up to his tip. Shanks squirms, more pitiful noises falling from his lips, “Thought you wanted to cum?” you tease before rubbing insistent circles into his glans.

Shanks yelps and whines, his hand flying to your wrist to try and pry you off as he attempts to squirm from your grasp. His hold on you is weak, and you take that as him not wanting you to stop, so you keep going— rubbing unrelenting circles into the most sensitive part of his cock, relishing in the noises he makes, and the absolutely pathetic expression on his face.

Shanks feels like he might explode; you’re unrelenting, not letting him catch his breath— and it hurts, but it feels so good. He grits his teeth and tightens his grip on your wrist, not letting you do anything more than mess with his tip. He doesn't know if he can handle anymore, but he doesn't have to wonder any longer as your other hand falls from his neck, and trails down between his thighs to stroke his balls. Shanks flinches, an embarrassing squeak catching in his chest as his thighs spasm.“Fuck— Y/N- no—” Shanks whines in between pants, he’s out of breath and half-aware of how pathetic he— Red-Haired Shanks, a Yonko— must look being turned into a complete mess by you, a cabin boy, of all people. You grin mischievously for a split second, before hiding it behind a mockingly concerned expression.

“No?” you ask with a fake pout. Contrary to your innocent facade, your hands continue their sadistic torture. Shanks opens his mouth again, about to whine some more, but you swipe your nail through the slit in his tip, and the only thing that comes out of his mouth is a desperate moan. His head falls back onto his pillow as he shudders, hips bucking up into your hand.

“Doesn't look like you want me to stop.” you muse, using the moment to your advantage. While he’s distracted, you shake off his hand and start stroking his cock in full. Shanks lets out an indecipherable whine and shakes his head, but you ignore him. “Look how much you’re leaking…” you tease, letting go of his balls to swipe up his pre-cum. “You’ve already cum once, but your cock looks so eager to do it again.” You smile, sucking his pre off your thumb.

Shanks’ eyes roll back into his head and he groans, “You’re the worst.”

Big round of applause to my new beta reader @snailpaste bro had to dredge the depths of my unedited brain funk on their very first day. Seriously, they were a big help and they write for One Piece too so go show them some support.

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[uracutieraka]

JJK and the obnoxiously nice new girl!

Introduction

10:23 A.M.

You skin is sticky with sweat from the sweltering summer heat in Tokyo. You slightly regret your decision to wear your new school uniform, but how else was your new teacher supposed to spot you in the busy crowded market?

You wonder around to different stalls, chatting with the workers at each one.

"Y/n L/n?" a deep voice says from behind you. You jump with a small squeal at the mans sudden presence. Turning you’re met with a tall man with white hair.

"You must be Gojo! I've heard so much about you!" You have a wide smile on your face, voice sweet and excited.

"Oh? Have you now? Good things I hope!" He has a smug grin on his face as he puffs his chest out and puts his hands on his hips.

"Stop showing off to our new classmate you idiot." A girls voice tears through the small interaction.

You turn and reach your hand out to her.

"You must be Kugisaki!" Your smile is still wide and toothy, it makes her slightly cringe for a moment but then she takes your hand.

"You know my name?"

You now sport a small pout as she drops the handshake and gives you a questioning look.

"Well, yeah, I learned all your names before coming here." Your eyes drift from her as two boys walk up behind her, one of them slinging his arm over her shoulder and leaning against her.

"You must be Fushiguro?" You now extend your arm out to the other boy, who remained stoic. He nods and shakes your hand.

Finally you turn to the other boy who's now fighting with Kugisaki.

"And you're Itadori!" He now turns to you with a smile wider than yours.

"The one and only!" He takes your hand and shakes it vigorously.

"Woah!" You say with a giggle at his excitement. Arm being pulled up and down quickly.

"Itadori!," The short haired girl grabs at his arm to make him stop, sending you an apologetic look. "Sorry, he's, uhm, for lack of better words special."

You laugh as they go back to arguing.

"So, what'dya think of Japan so far?" The teacher now slings his arm over your shoulder and leans down so his face is next to yours.

"Hmm, it's hot. Not hotter than summers back home, and the language barrier is kind of difficult." A small frown settles on your face. He leans back up and his hand gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze, his lips drawn tightly together.

"Yeah, but don't worry, it'll get easier over time."

You beam up at him and nod in agreeance.

12:17 P.M.

The walk to the school was long and you seriously regretted your shoe choice. Finally you approach the large gate and stare in awe.

The pink haired boy runs in front of you and grabs your wrist.

"Come on! We'll show you around!" His voice is loud and his grip is tight, but you don’t mind.

He starts pulling you behind him and it’s only then you start to care. He’s fast, like really extremely fast.

The other two first years are following behind the two of you and yelling for him to slow down, it’s only when Itadori hears his name being said by a deep voice that he stops.

You trip over your own foot trying to not run into him and it causes you to fall. Skirt flying up in the process. Kugisaki is quick to rush over and pull it back down for you, but you just stay laying face first on the hard ground. Too embarrassed to look up at the group of people now surrounding you. “Yuji! What the hell dude!” The brown haired girl yells up at him, he’s already profusely apologizing for the mistake. It’s only when you feel yourself get lifted off the ground that you force your eyes open to asses the situation.

“Are you okay?” You turn around to be met with a panda bear. Then look behind him to see a white haired boy and a girl with glasses. Heat has now completely settled across your body. Embarrassed for showing your intimates to this new group of people.

“L/n, I am so genuinely sorry! Please let me make it up to you!” You make eye contact with him and his eyes are wide and face is beet red. You sigh and dust yourself off, letting a small smile settle on your face.

"It's okay, accidents happen!," His face relaxes a bit but it's short lived as the girl with glasses flicks his forehead. You cringe but decide to further lighten the mood. "Now that everyones seen my underwear, I guess I have no reason to be nervous!" You chuckle a bit at the thought.

Kugaski pouts before turning back to the boy who started this whole mess and scowls.

"Y'know Itadori, you're lucky L/n's so nice. Otherwise I'd beat your ass."

The two of them yet again begin fighting, you watch with a small smile before a large paw rests on your shoulder. Heat crawls back up your face when you remember what just happened that led to them arguing to begin with.

"So," a deep voice rumbles, you shiver and turn around slowly. "You must be the new first year!" His voice is cheerful and it makes you feel a sense of relief. The same wide smile fills your face again as you formally introduce yourself.

The panda introduces himself then the two second years behind him. You shake their hands and shake your head as he explains that Inumaki can only communicate using cooking terms, due to the nature of his curse. You take a mental note to start paying attention when he talks, so you can learn how to effectively communicate with him. Eventually after chatting a bit and Panda asking where you were originally from because 'frankly your accent sucks!' Kugasaki pulls you away, ready to actually show you around.

She guides you around the large campus, showing you every nook and cranny. Allowing you to chat with the people you come across. After a while of walking she finally leads you to the dorms.

3:45 P.M.

"So I figured you'd want your own room, and there's plenty of space for one, but if you wanted we could always share one." You smile at her and agree that having your own is appealing.

"I've practically lived on my own my whole life, but it'd be nice to not for once." You watch as she processes your words and her face grows wide with a smile.

"Awesome! I'll have the guys bring your stuff over, let me show you to your room then!" You watch as she quickly types on her phone, presumably texting Itadori and Fushiguro to bring your stuff to her dorm.

4:33 P.M.

Eventually they arrive, Panda following them, with all your belongings.

"Damn woman! Could you have literally anymore stuff?" Itadori huffs out as he sets the boxes he was carrying down.

You giggle and thank him for helping, turning around you thank the other two as well.

"I hope it wasn't too much of a burden!" You say and Fushiguro says it wasn't, though Itadori mumbles about how it was.

"Oh! By the way!," You say, leaning down to dig in your backpack, stopping the boys before they left. "I made everyone cookies! I made them two days ago before I left to come here, and I planned on giving them to you guys tomorrow but since y'all are here, why not now?"

You pull out 3 large ziplock bags and hold them up.

"Wow. That's a lot of cookies!" Panda says. You smile shyly and explain you might have gone a bit overboard, but you didn't know how many people there would be exactly.

"Here's for us first years," You say setting a bag down on the table "And this is for the second years!" You shove another bag into Panda's arms.

"Who's the last bag for?" Kugisaki asks.

"The teachers of course! I heard the third years aren't really ever around so I didn't bother making them any," You begin mumbling to yourself about how you probably should make them some anyways.

"Well, I'm sure there's already plenty here that we could share some around!" Panda declares, you look up at him and agree.

"Oh my godddddd! These are so good!" You turn around to see Itadori with his mouth stuffed full, a half eaten cookie in his hand.

"Really? Im glad! I figured they wouldn't be as good because they're a little old..."

"Hey! You guys having a party in here of what?" Everyone turns towards the door to see Gojo leaning against the frame.

"Gojo! Dude! Try these cookies!" Itadori shoves the bag outwards towards the tall man, who steps forward to take one.

He take a bite and through his blindfold you can see his eyebrows raise up.

"Oh my god! These are delicious!"

"L/n made them!"

The white haired man turns towards you and points between you and the cookie in his hand.

"No words. These are amazing!"

You laugh and thank him.

"Alright guys! Get out now! L/n needs to unpack and i'm sure she wants to shower and rest."

Gojo and Itadori start mumbling about how she's a buzzkill but the other two thank you for the cookies and quickly leave.

Gojo is the last to walk out the door but before he does he turns to face you.

"Oh, by the way Y/n, the principal wants to see you first thing in the morning, something about your parents."

You hum and thank him as he closes the door.

"Your parents?" You now turn to face the girl who's leaned against the small countertop in the common room of your new shared dorm.

You sigh and lazily fall back into the chair at the small table, allowing your head to fall forward onto the cold wood. You now turn your neck, cheek flat against the hard surface, and look at her.

"Yeah. It's some bull shit. Honestly," you sigh and sit back up, a small, tired smile tugs at your lips. "I'm just glad to be here!"

You watch as her face contorts into a type of concern, but you mentally sigh as she smiles back and asks you if you want help unpacking.

"Itadori is dramatic, you don't have that much stuff. I'm sure we could get you fully unpacked by tonight."

Though your body is screaming for sleep, your mind is telling you it's better if you just get it over with, so you agree.

12:26 A.M.

Wet hair is soaking your pillow but you're too exhausted to even care. Your eyes are heavy as you scroll through your phone, it had been long forgotten since you arrived in Tokyo this morning.

You respond to a few messages from people back home, then sigh as you click the power button and shove the device off to the side of your bed.

You look around your new room, proud of you and Kugisaki for getting it set up in one night. You'd have to get her lunch tomorrow to thank her for helping you. You smile softly as you finally allow your eyes to close.

Your body reacts quickly to you finally relaxing, within five minutes you're in a deep sleep.

Kugisaki softly knocks on your door before peeking in to check on you, she smiles and quietly shuts it, excited to finally have a roommate.

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