#I’m sorry. I’m just not feeling very okay at the moment.

[gpcwsl]

Caitlin Foord x Reader

- Stay -

MasterList

Warnings: very short (sorry), a kiss?

It had taken weeks—months, even—of stolen glances, lingering touches, and moments that left your heart pounding, but here you were. Sitting on Caitlin Foord’s couch, a blanket draped over both of you, a movie playing softly in the background. The smell of the dinner you had just shared still lingered in the air, a mix of garlic and herbs from the pasta she had made entirely from scratch.

Caitlin sat close—closer than usual—and though your eyes were on the screen, you were hyper-aware of her arm brushing against yours every time she adjusted her position. You felt her presence like a magnet, pulling you in with every small movement.

“You’re not even watching, are you?” Caitlin teased, her Australian accent warm and full of amusement.

You blinked, caught red-handed. “What makes you think that?”

She raised an eyebrow, the corner of her lips quirking into a smirk. “Because you’ve been staring at the same spot on the screen for, like, ten minutes. I think you’ve missed half the plot.”

Your face heated up as you stammered, “I’m just… processing.”

“Processing, huh?” Caitlin laughed, leaning back against the sofa cushions. “Sure, sure. You know, if you’re bored, you can just say so.”

“I’m not bored,” you said quickly, the words rushing out before you could stop them. “I’m enjoying this. Being here. With you.”

Her teasing expression softened instantly, and she turned to fully face you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you said, quieter this time, meeting her gaze.

For a moment, the air felt heavier, charged with something unspoken. Caitlin’s eyes flicked down to your lips for the briefest second before she broke the tension by leaning forward to grab the remote. “Alright, then. Let’s make sure we catch the ending, at least.”

The movie wrapped up eventually, and the two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, the blanket still shared between you. But as much as you didn’t want the evening to end, the clock reminded you it was getting late.

“I should probably head out,” you said reluctantly, shifting to sit up.

Caitlin glanced at her phone, clearly disappointed. “Already?”

“Early start tomorrow,” you explained with a shrug.

She nodded, standing up alongside you. “Alright, let me walk you out.”

The walk to the door was quiet, your footsteps padding softly against the floor. Once there, you turned to face her, smiling despite the ache of not wanting to leave.

“Thanks for tonight, Cait. I had a really good time.”

“Me too,” she said, her voice almost shy. She reached up to rub the back of her neck, a habit you’d come to recognize when she was feeling nervous. “I, uh… I’m glad you said yes to this.”

“So am I.”

You reached for the doorknob, but before you could turn it, Caitlin’s hand gently caught your wrist.

“Wait,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

You turned back, your breath catching as you saw the look in her eyes—something vulnerable, something brave.

Before you could say anything, Caitlin closed the space between you, her lips brushing yours in a kiss that was as soft as it was certain. Her free hand rested lightly on your waist, anchoring you to the moment.

When she pulled back, her cheeks were flushed, but there was a small, hopeful smile on her lips. “Stay,” she murmured. “Just for tonight.”

Your heart raced, the world around you fading until there was only Caitlin—the warmth of her hand, the way she looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

“Okay,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest.

Her smile widened, and she took your hand, leading you back inside. “Come on. Let’s pick another movie.”

[skz143me]

Jealous idols

In which Bang Chans girlfriend gets jealous of how much time he’s spending with BLACKPINK’s, Lisa

Bang Chan x reader

DISCLAIMER: no hate to any of the idols, this fic was written in pure fiction!!

Bang Chan was the biggest green flag Y/N had ever met. When she had first auditioned for Stray Kids, she didn’t have much hope of getting in. Most of the mentors said she didn’t speak enough Korean, or that a girl didn’t fit into the place of a boy directed group.

When she met Chan, all of that changed.

He was the sweetest person ever. He coached her and comforted her. He was everything she needed.

When Skz finally debuted, Y/N ended up being one of the most biased members by STAY.

Eventually, Y/N pursued a romantic relationship with Chan, and the two were happier than ever.

They had been together for about a year, with barely any problems, and it was great.

Y/N had been friends with Lisa for a while now. They bonded at a red carpet, after both being voted two of the most successful female idols in the industry. Y/N knew that Chan would hang out with Lisa sometimes, and at first, she didn’t mind it at all. But, eventually, things got a bit out of hand.

It seemed as if Chan was with her everyday, whether it was posting videos on social media, or just hanging out. Chan had even attended Lisa’s concert. Despite them both insisting it was just a deep friendship, Y/N wasnt very convinced. So, she decided to talk to her boyfriend about it.

Chan walked into the house, seemingly exhausted from a long day at the studio. The other members were already asleep, so Y/N took this as the perfect moment to share her concerns with Chan.

“Hey, Chris?” He turned his head, his tired eyes meeting hers.

“Yeah?” He said, sounding genuinely concerned in what her next words would be.

“Did you hang out with Lisa today?” She asked, keeping her voice as nonchalant as possible.

Chan pored himself a glass of water and nodded. “Yeah, we met up. Why, baby?” His eyes were back on Y/N.

“Chris..I’m just going to be honest with you”, Y/N felt her hands shake a bit, some anxiety overwhelming her. “I’m a bit concerned about how much time you’ve been spending with Lisa.”

He looks up at her, looking confused and a bit shocked. “Wait, why?”

She took a breath and spoke again, “I just feel like you’re spending a lot more time with her than me, and well, I don’t know I guess I’m jealous.”

Chans lips turned into a frown. “Y/N, Lisa is just a friend. I mean, we’ve known each other longer than I’ve known you. So please, can we not talk about this.”

Y/N is hurt by his words, so she gently nods and walks away. She feels her cheeks heat up, tears pricking at her eyes. She doesn’t know what to do, so she goes to her one safe space. Her best friend.

Y/N walks into the room and flops onto the bed, not bothering to say anything.

“Um, hello to you too?” Felix says, in a half chuckle. “What’s going on?”

Y/N sits up and rubs her eyes. “Chans mad because I told him he was spending to much time with Lisa”.

Felix nods slowly, trying his best to come up with something encouraging to say. “Want me to talk to him?”

Y/N shakes her head, “No. I don’t want him to get anymore upset than he already is.”

A few moments later, Y/N hears her phone buzz. She takes it out of her pocket and sees a new text from Lisa.

LALISA <3

Hey Y/N, Chris told me what happened and I just wanted to let you know I’m so sorry for making you feel like that. You’re a great person and I’m always going to try and be there for you. I want you to know, you can always come to me and tell me things like that. I’m so glad I know now so I can help respect your boundaries. I hope we’re okay. Anyways, I’ll see you tomorrow at brunch pretty girl 💗🖤

Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the message. Felix saw this and smiled to himself.

So she had resolved things with Lisa, which took a huge weight off her back. But she still needed to fix things with Chris-

Another buzz from her phone interrupts her train of thought. She looks at her phone again to see a message pop up from Chris.

Channie 🐺🤍

Baby, I’m so so so so so sorry for making you feel sad 😔

I love you so much and I want to show you I any way I can. I’m always going to be there for you. I love you. 💗

You smiled again. Maybe this would work out after all.

[clarisse0o]

The Mayor - Chapter 34

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternate Universe: Mayor and Architect

Words: 700

Masterlist

———————————————————————

  I joined her in her car that Monday evening, parked outside my apartment, with a tinge of apprehension.   I was somewhat dreading this evening, wondering how it would unfold.  

Our kiss was brief, distant.  

I was the one to break the silence.  

 "Really, once again, I’m sorry for those late-night texts..."   

 "It’s fine, let’s not bring up your childish antics at night again, Ona!"   

The evening had started, I thought. I chose not to respond to her provocation, changing the subject instead.  

We talked about everything and nothing in particular, in an atmosphere that was rather peculiar and quite cold.  

Halfway through the drive, I received a message from Alexia. She sent me a photo of all of us from the party, dancing on a table. I burst into laughter suddenly, unable to hold it back.  

 "What’s so funny?"  Lucy asked, glancing at me.  

 "Nothing, just a picture Alexia just sent me!"   

I bit my lower lip. Why had I said that? Unsurprisingly, she followed up.  

 "From your little party?"   

I should’ve thought before I spoke.  

 "Yes, yes..."   

 "With your girlfriend?"   

I immediately replied.  

 "I told you, Lucy, she’s not my girlfriend."   

She didn’t look at me, her eyes fixed on the road.  

 "Since we’re on the topic, can I know how many girls you’re sleeping with at the moment?"   

Her question made me jump. She was looking for a reaction. Before I could answer, she added:  

 "Because honestly, we’ve never really talked about it! How many?"   

Her tone was haughty, cutting, and downright irritating. I was boiling inside.  

 "Look, I’ve lost count!"  I replied with irony.  

Faced with provocation, I had chosen to respond with provocation. At the next roundabout, she didn’t go straight and instead made a U-turn.  

 "What are you doing?"  I asked, surprised.  

 "I don’t really feel like going to that exhibition anymore, you see..."   

 "Fine, suit yourself."   

A silence followed, lasting several long minutes. The tension was palpable, and the evening was turning into a nightmare. As we neared the starting point, I decided to break the heavy silence, letting my frustration slip out.  

 "Why are you acting like this? Huh? I didn’t do anything with that girl or with anyone else. And anyway, you told me you didn’t care! So what’s your problem? The whole 'I don’t care, do what you want'—those were your words! So why does it matter to you if I’m sleeping with half the town?"   

I was fuming, out of control, nerves frayed.  

She pulled the car over to the side of the road, right at the city entrance.  

She turned to me, her gaze unusually serious.  

 "Ona, it would bother me if you were sleeping with half the town. And it did bother me seeing you, Saturday morning, with her, dancing on that float, with her..."   

So, she had seen me on that float.  

 "I told you, she’s a friend, she was just having fun with the situation!"   

 "Having fun with the situation?"  she asked, surprised.  

 "Yes, she knows about us, and, well, she wanted to see how you’d react. That’s Marion; she’s like that!"   

 "Very funny, indeed! So, she knows, then?"   

I replied, visibly annoyed.  

 "Yes, Lucy, she knows! But she lives in Paris, and I doubt she’s going to sell the scoop to  Paris Match !"  I added with a hint of sarcasm.  

I continued,  "You see, normally, I tell my friends everything, especially when it comes to relationships. But this time, I can’t say anything, not even to Alexia. I have to keep everything to myself."   

She looked at me, searching for her words.  

 "Look, it’s a bit of a unique situation, I know, but..."   

I cut her off.  

 "Do you want me to be honest with you? I was hurt, upset when you called me an experiment. I know I can’t expect anything, but it stung. This hidden relationship, kept out of sight—it was exciting at first. But now, it’s weighing on me, okay? I want more. There, I said it: I want more. My late-night texts, as you call them, they mean something! I wanted to see you, I even wanted you to meet my friends. I have feelings for you, do you understand? Romantic feelings!"   

My words poured out of me like a flooded river—fast, sharp, and uncontrollable.  

Lucy stared at me, seemingly stunned by what I’d just said.  

 "I don’t know what to say, Ona,"  were her only words.  

My heart was pounding. I felt suffocated in that car, desperate for air.  

 "I’m sorry, I need to step out, take a walk!"   

She didn’t say a word, letting me go.  

[darkintothedawn]

DAY FOUR || Stiles Stilinski 'Teen Wolf'

Pairing — Stiles Stilinski x Gender Neutral reader

Summary — Day four of 'THE BOYFRIEND CODE'.

4. Thou shalt not hold thy boyfriend’s hand just to warm up thy own freezing fingers and then let go once they’re toasty. My hands are not a temporary rental service—they require long-term commitment. Hand-holding is a big deal, okay? It’s a sacred act of love, comfort, and subtle flexing. If thou initiates contact, thou must maintain it for an appropriate amount of time (i.e., until I say so). If thou dares to pull away too soon, be warned: I will be needy about it. I will pout. I will stare at thy hand longingly. I will dramatically sigh until my hand is reclaimed. I don’t want to beg, but make no mistake—I absolutely will.

Memo— Sorry this is so late, guys! Anyway, you can find the rest of the 'THE BOYFRIEND CODE' here.

Word Count — 4677

Warnings — Fluff.

The next day dawned colder than anyone had anticipated. The kind of cold that made you regret leaving the comfort of your bed, let alone venturing anywhere further than the couch. Somehow, though, you and Stiles had ended up bundled together in the Stilinski living room, wrapped in a massive blanket, with a movie playing on the TV.

It wasn’t snowing, but it felt like it could at any second. The kind of freezing that made the windows fog over, and no amount of hot coffee or heating could seem to shake it. The thermostat and boiler were both broken meaning the cold seeped into the corners of the room, lingering like it had nowhere better to be.

“Okay, is it just me, or is it actually freezing in here?” Stiles asked, his breath puffing out visibly in the chill air as he pulled the blanket tighter around both of you.

“It’s definitely freezing,” you confirmed, leaning further into him in search of warmth. “Why does it feel like we’re watching a movie in a meat locker?”

“Maybe the house is haunted,” he quipped, casting a suspicious glance toward the ceiling. “Ghosts of heating systems past, punishing us for taking central heating for granted.”

You raised an eyebrow, deadpan. “Yes, very plausible. Maybe it’s payback for how cold it was when you decided to storm out yesterday and drag me into the tundra.”

Stiles tilted his head, squinting as though he was trying to find a retort but ultimately came up empty. “Okay, first of all, it wasn’t that cold yesterday.”

You shot him a look.

He huffed, backtracking almost immediately. “Fine. It was freezing. But that wasn’t the point—I was making a dramatic exit!”

“You were being dramatic, alright,” you teased, nudging him with your shoulder. “And I almost lost feeling in my fingers because of it.”

“Well, lucky for you,” he said, puffing his chest out, “I’m here now. A walking furnace, as it were.”

You glanced at him, unimpressed. “Some furnace. I think it’s broken.”

“Rude,” he muttered, though he tightened his arm around you, pulling you even closer until you were practically in his lap. “You’ll miss me when I’m gone. Just you wait.”

“Not if I freeze to death first,” you said dryly, but you didn’t resist when he tucked the blanket around both of you like a cocoon.

The movie droned on in the background, explosions lighting up the screen, but your focus wasn’t really on it—not when the cold was still lingering, and not when Stiles was rambling in a way that made it almost bearable.

“You know,” he started, a sly grin tugging at his lips, “if we were in one of those apocalypse movies where the heat went out everywhere, I’d survive. Natural body heat and all that. I’d be thriving.”

“Uh-huh,” you replied, raising an eyebrow. “You could barely handle being outside for five minutes yesterday. You started complaining before we even got down the block.”

“That was different,” he argued, his tone defensive. “That was wind chill. This is just regular cold.”

“Oh, yeah, totally different,” you said, biting back a smile.

Stiles stared at you for a moment before leaning down and pressing a dramatic kiss to the top of your head. “You know what? I’m done explaining myself to you. Just enjoy the benefits of my unmatched warmth.”

You snorted but shifted closer anyway, letting the weight of him and the blanket press against you. Slowly, the cold seemed to fade just a little, his body heat seeping into yours until the space between you was nonexistent.

For a moment, the room fell quiet, the movie playing on without either of you really paying attention. It wasn’t the most exciting way to spend a day, but as Stiles let out a contented sigh and burrowed further into the blanket, you couldn’t imagine a better one.

So, without warning, you slipped your hands under Stiles’ jumper, pressing your cold fingers against his stomach. He flinched immediately, yelping like you’d just dumped a bucket of ice water on him.

“Oh my god,” he hissed, squirming under your touch. “Why are your hands so cold? Are you trying to kill me?”

You grinned, unmoved by his dramatics, and started tracing lazy circles against his skin, feeling the way his muscles tensed beneath your fingertips. “I’m just warming them up, and you did say you’re a walking furnace. This is your fault.”

“Not like this!” he protested, squirming more but not actually pulling away. “I’m not some human space heater for your icicle hands!”

“Oh, hush,” you teased, your voice softening as your thumbs grazed the faint lines of his abdomen. “I’m just appreciating the results of all that Lacrosse practice. You’ve been working hard.”

He stilled for a moment, his cheeks turning pink, though whether from the cold or your praise, you couldn’t tell. “I mean… yeah, I guess,” he muttered, a little flustered.

You hummed, still tracing patterns over his stomach. “It’s paying off. Pretty soon, everyone at school’s going to be fawning over you.”

Stiles frowned, glancing down at you suspiciously. “What’s your angle here?”

“No angle,” you said, tilting your head to look up at him. “Just stating facts. Stiles Stilinski is a major hottie, and soon enough, people are finally going to see what I see. You’re incredibly attractive.”

His mouth opened like he wanted to respond, but nothing came out. Instead, his face flushed even darker, his ears turning red as he fidgeted under your hands. “I—uh—thanks? I guess?” he stammered, voice cracking slightly at the end.

You leaned up, pressing a quick kiss to his jawline. “No need to thank me. Just the truth.”

Stiles groaned, dropping his head back against the couch dramatically. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he muttered, but his lips slowly curled up into a small grin.

“Probably,” you teased, squeezing his hand gently. “But at least you’ll go down knowing you’re a certified hottie.”

He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re blushing,” you countered, your grin widening.

“Am not,” he shot back quickly, but the look on his face said otherwise.

Stiles squirmed again, his lips twitching like he was trying to suppress a smile, but the faint pink on his cheeks wasn’t going anywhere. You could see it spread all the way to the tips of his ears, and it only made your grin widen.

“Aw, you’re blushing,” you cooed, moving your hands slightly lower on his stomach just to feel him flinch again.

“I’m not blushing,” he shot back, his voice defensive but cracking slightly at the end.

“Oh, you so are,” you teased, leaning in closer. “I mean, it’s fine, babe. Most people would be flustered after being called a hottie. Especially when it’s true.”

“Would you stop?” he whined, dragging a hand over his face, though he made no move to push you away. “I’m not used to—you know—people saying stuff like that.”

You softened a little, pulling your hands up from his stomach to rest over his chest instead, your thumbs brushing against the edges of his ribs. “Well, you’d better get used to it. Because, in case you haven’t noticed, you’re really good-looking, Stiles. Like, unfairly so.”

He scoffed, though the way he was ducking his head made you think he wasn’t fully convinced. “Yeah, okay. Sure. That’s me. Stiles Stilinski, local heartthrob.”

You frowned slightly at his tone, realizing that maybe this wasn’t just about him being flustered. “Hey,” you said softly, leaning up to kiss his jawline again, just below his ear. “I mean it. You’re hot. Full stop. No qualifiers, no sarcasm.”

For a moment, he didn’t respond. Then, slowly, his hands moved to slip under your top, resting against the small of your back. His fingers were warm against your skin, and he gently pulled you closer until your bodies were flush against each other.

“You’re crazy, you know that?” he murmured, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable. “Like, sometimes I think you’re messing with me. Like there’s no way you could actually think—”

“Stiles,” you interrupted, cutting him off before he could spiral. You leaned back just enough to meet his gaze, your hands moving to cup either side of his face. “I’m not messing with you. Not even a little. You’re hot, you’re funny, you’re smart—and you’ve got this whole adorable, awkward thing going on that just makes you even more attractive. I’m not saying it to be nice or to mess with you. I’m saying it because it’s true.”

He blinked at you, clearly thrown off by the sincerity in your tone. “You really mean that?”

You smiled, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Every word. Now stop questioning me and just accept the fact that you’re a total babe.”

He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “You’re ridiculous,” he muttered again, but there was a softness in his voice now, and his grip on your back tightened slightly, his thumbs brushing over your skin.

“And you’re still blushing,” you teased, unable to resist one last jab.

This time, Stiles didn’t even try to deny it. Instead, he smirked faintly, his hands moving higher on your back. “Fine. If I’m blushing, then you’re freezing. Maybe I should even things out a little.”

Before you could process what he meant, he slid his hands further up your back, his palms warm against your skin as they pressed against the chill that had settled there. You shivered instinctively, and he grinned, clearly enjoying the reversal.

“Not so fun being on the receiving end, is it?” he teased, his confidence creeping back as he watched your reaction.

You narrowed your eyes at him, though you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” you muttered, leaning back into his touch despite the teasing.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, his grin widening. “Keep talking, babe. I’m listening.”

“Cute and modest,” you teased, your voice dripping with playful sarcasm as you adjusted your position, settling against him more comfortably. “What don’t you have, Stiles Stilinski? A six-pack? A healthy sleep schedule? Basic survival instincts?”

“Har, har,” he muttered, rolling his eyes, but his grin didn’t falter. His hands shifted again, sliding further up your back for a moment before retreating. “For your information, I’m working on the six-pack. As for the other stuff… not exactly my fault I keep getting dragged into werewolf drama.”

You raised a brow, your lips twitching as you fought back a smirk. “Oh, dragged into it, huh? Because I seem to remember you throwing yourself into the middle of it most of the time.”

“That’s called being proactive,” he argued, though the way his lips twitched betrayed him. “Big difference.”

“Uh-huh,” you said, your tone light and teasing as you tilted your head to look at him. “Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night—oh wait, you don’t.”

He groaned, his head falling back against the couch dramatically. “Why do I put up with you?”

“Because you love me,” you shot back, grinning.

“Debatable,” he muttered, though the way his hands slid back down to your waist said otherwise.

You shivered again, your body reflexively tensing as the warmth from his hands left your back. “Okay, seriously, my hands are freezing.” You held them up in front of him for emphasis.

“Yeah, I noticed,” he said dryly, giving you a pointed look. “You’ve been using me as your personal radiator for the last ten minutes.”

“And you love it,” you said sweetly, wiggling your fingers for effect.

Stiles rolled his eyes but reached for your hands anyway, wrapping his own around them and squeezing gently. “There. Happy?”

“Very,” you said, your grin softening into something more genuine as you let him hold your hands. His were warm, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he shifted slightly to face you more fully.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. The teasing had melted away, leaving behind a quiet sort of intimacy that made your chest ache in the best way.

“You know,” you said softly, breaking the silence. “You’re really good at this whole boyfriend thing.”

Stiles glanced up at you, his brow quirking slightly. “What, holding hands?”

“Yeah,” you said, your tone light but your smile genuine. “Among other things.”

He grinned at that, his fingers tightening around yours. “Well, you know. I try.”

“You do more than try,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles.

For once, Stiles didn’t have a snarky comeback. Instead, he just smiled, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he gave your hands another squeeze. “You’re gonna give me an ego,” he said finally, though there was no real bite to his words.

“Good,” you said simply, leaning back into him as you tangled your fingers with his. “You deserve one.”

You flexed your fingers against Stiles’, noting how the chill had finally started to leave. “Okay, I think I’m defrosting. But seriously, when’s your dad gonna get off work and fix the heating? I’m not sure I can take much more of this.”

Stiles looked at you, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Well, you could go home, you know. Your house has this new thing—very cutting edge. It's called working heating.”

You rolled your eyes, squeezing his hands as you settled more firmly against him. “Oh, ha ha. Like I’m leaving you here to suffer alone.”

“Why not?” he teased, leaning back into the couch. “I’m a big boy. I can handle it.”

You scoffed, shooting him a pointed look. “Yeah, right. I leave for five minutes, and you’d be texting me about how you’ve lost all feeling in your toes.”

“Okay, first of all,” he said, holding up one hand dramatically while still holding yours with the other, “You make it sound like I’m helpless, which is not true.”

“Sure, Stiles.” Your voice dripped with sarcasm, and he narrowed his eyes at you playfully.

“And second,” he continued, ignoring you, “Maybe I’d text you because I missed you and not because of my toes.”

Your teasing expression softened at that, and you shook your head fondly. “You’re ridiculous."

“Yeah, I am,” you admitted quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, Stiles didn’t say anything. He just looked at you, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. Then, finally, he spoke, his tone softer. “So… you really don’t want to leave?”

You shook your head. “Nope. Not even a little. Besides…” You leaned into him, letting your head rest on his shoulder. “It’s not so bad. Freezing cold, sure, but at least I’ve got you to keep me warm.”

Stiles let out a breathy laugh, his head tilting to rest against yours. “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you teased, though your words lacked any real bite.

“I’m still texting my dad, though,” Stiles said after a beat, fishing for his phone with his free hand. “Because if this heating isn’t fixed soon, I’m pretty sure I’m going to turn into a popsicle.”

“You do that,” you murmured, your voice soft as you laced your fingers with his again, your grip warm and secure.

As the warmth finally returned to your hands, despite the amount of times Stiles' had ended up letting go of one of them, you let out a small sigh of relief, the biting cold of the morning forgotten for the first time since you’d started watching the movie. Absentmindedly, you let go of Stiles’ hand, rubbing your palms together as if to seal in the heat he’d so generously offered.

It wasn’t until you heard the soft, almost betrayed gasp that you realized what you’d done.

“Did you just—” Stiles’ voice was low, like he was trying to process the crime he’d just witnessed. “Did you seriously just use me? Like some kind of human hand-warmer?”

You blinked, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. “Uh… yeah? My hands aren’t cold anymore, so—”

“Oh my God,” he interrupted, clutching his chest as though you’d shot him straight through the heart. His expression morphed into something so exaggeratedly hurt that it would’ve been laughable if not for the sheer conviction he poured into it. “Unbelievable. Unforgivable, even. I trusted you. I thought we had something special.”

You raised an eyebrow, leaning back on the couch as you watched him with thinly veiled amusement. “Stiles, it’s not that deep—”

“Not that deep?” he exclaimed, flailing his arms dramatically. “Not that deep?! Do you even remember rule four?”

With complete innocence, you tilted your head as if wracking your brain. “Hmm, rule four… was that the one about not stealing the last curly fry? Or the one about tickling you while driving?”

His jaw dropped, his hands falling to his sides as he stared at you like you’d just declared you were Team Edward instead of Team Jacob. “You’re joking. You’re joking. You’ve forgotten the most important rule of them all?”

“Refresh my memory,” you said, biting back a grin as you leaned your chin on your palm, thoroughly enjoying the show.

Stiles, for all his mock offense, was clearly in his element now. “Thou shalt not hold thy boyfriend’s hand just to warm up thy own freezing fingers and then let go once they’re toasty,” he recited, his voice taking on an air of reverence. “My hands are not a temporary rental service—they require long-term commitment. Hand-holding is a big deal, okay? A sacred act of love, comfort, and subtle flexing. If thou initiates contact, thou must maintain it for an appropriate amount of time—”

“Until you say so,” you finished for him, your lips twitching with suppressed laughter.

“Yes!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. “Exactly! You remember, and yet you still broke the rule. Deliberately.”

You shrugged, letting your fingers hover near his hand, but not quite touching it. “Maybe I just wanted to see how dramatic you’d get about it.”

“Oh, you want drama?” he challenged, narrowing his eyes at you. “I’ll give you drama. I’ll pout. I’ll sigh. I’ll stare longingly at your hand for the rest of the day. Hell, I’ll beg if I have to. Pathetically.”

“You’re already doing that,” you pointed out, a laugh bubbling out of you despite your best efforts to keep a straight face.

He scowled, his expression so petulant that it only made you laugh harder. “This isn’t funny. My hand is literally dying of loneliness right now.”

Finally, you reached for his hand again, threading your fingers through his and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “There. Better?”

“Much,” he said, though his pout didn’t fully disappear.

For a moment, you both sat in silence, your hand nestled comfortably in his. Stiles’ thumb started rubbing soft circles over your knuckles, and the faint pout on his lips gave way to a small, satisfied smile.

“I hate you,” you muttered, shaking your head fondly.

“You love me,” he shot back, his grin widening.

“Yeah, I do.”

That should’ve been enough to end the conversation, but of course, Stiles wasn’t done.

“You know,” he started, his voice taking on a contemplative tone, “I think this might be worse than the curly fry situation.”

You raised an eyebrow, pretending to be offended. “Worse? That was your sacred food, Stiles. I just let go of your hand for two seconds.”

“Exactly,” he said, puffing his chest like he’d just made an airtight argument. “At least with the curly fry thing, you kissed me first. There was, like, an attempt at negotiation. But this? This is just cold-blooded betrayal.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning over to press a soft kiss to the back of his hand. “There. Does that make up for it?”

He huffed, but his grin was impossible to miss. “A little. But you’ve got a lot more making up to do if you’re gonna regain my trust.”

“Oh, no,” you teased, your tone dripping with mock seriousness. “Whatever will I do without the trust of Stiles Stilinski?”

“I’m serious,” he said, though the laughter in his voice betrayed him. “You’re on thin ice, babe. One more violation, and I’m invoking the full wrath of the boyfriend code.”

“You do that,” you said, pressing another kiss to his hand. “In the meantime, I’ll just keep holding your hand forever and ever. Long-term commitment, right?”

He smiled then, soft and genuine, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he just looked at you, his thumb brushing over your knuckles again in a silent gesture that felt like an unspoken I love you.

“Forever and ever,” he finally murmured, leaning over to rest his head against yours. “But don’t think I’m forgetting about this. You’re still on notice.”

You let the quiet between you linger for a few beats, a smile tugging at your lips as you felt his thumb idly brushing against yours. Stiles’ hand was warm in yours, his earlier theatrics fading into something softer, something undeniably sweet. But then a thought struck you, and you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face.

“So, about this rule of yours…” you began, your tone casual, though the glint in your eye was anything but.

“Rule four,” Stiles corrected, already perking up like he was gearing up for another debate. “The cornerstone of any respectable relationship, yes.”

“Uh-huh,” you said, tilting your head and pretending to think it over. “Don’t you think it’s a little… one-sided?”

His brow furrowed, confusion flickering across his face. “One-sided? What are you talking about? It’s a perfect rule. Fool proof. Like, the relationship equivalent of the Ten Commandments.”

You snorted. “Right, because ‘thou shalt not let go of Stiles’ hand until he says so’ is super fair and balanced.”

“It is!” he said, nodding vehemently. “It’s about commitment. Dedication. A promise to—”

“Control,” you interrupted, raising an eyebrow at him.

He blinked, thrown off course. “Wait, what?”

You shrugged, looking far too pleased with yourself as you continued. “I mean, by your own wording, you get to decide when hand-holding stops. Not me. Not us. Just you.”

“Well, yeah,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “That’s how rules work. Someone has to enforce them.”

“But isn’t this a relationship?” you asked, leaning in slightly as your voice dropped to something softer, almost teasing. “Isn’t it supposed to be equal? You know—teamwork? Mutual involvement? Shared control?”

Stiles’ mouth opened, then closed again. For once, he didn’t have an immediate comeback, and you seized the opportunity to press further.

“Think about it,” you said, lacing your fingers with his and giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “If we’re equals, shouldn’t I get a say in when the hand-holding stops?”

He stared at you, his eyes narrowing as he realized he was cornered. “Okay, first of all, that’s cheating—using logic against me like that. Second of all, no one’s ever complained about this rule before.”

You grinned. “I’m your first relationship, Stiles. No one else has had the chance to.”

His lips parted as if to argue, but you cut him off, bringing his hand up to your lips and pressing a soft kiss to the back of it.

“Besides,” you murmured, your voice dropping to a low, teasing hum, “if anyone’s going to decide when we stop, shouldn’t it be me? I mean, you’re the one who said you’d beg if you had to.”

His eyes widened, and a faint flush crept up his neck. “Wait a second—”

“You did say that, right?” you interrupted, tilting your head in faux innocence. “Pathetically, if I remember correctly.”

“Okay, hold on—”

You cut him off again, leaning in closer until your faces were inches apart, your tone soft but undeniably smug. “So, Stiles, if you really want me to keep holding your hand, I think you know what you have to do.”

His mouth opened and closed again, a series of sputtered half-words escaping him before he finally groaned, dropping his head forward onto your shoulder. “Oh my God, you’re evil.”

“You love it,” you countered, your grin widening as you gave his hand another squeeze.

“I hate that you’re right,” he muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched in a reluctant smile.

“Come on,” you urged, your voice taking on a sing-song quality. “Say the magic words.”

He groaned again, his head tipping backward as he glared at you with mock indignation. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Maybe,” you admitted, brushing your thumb over the back of his hand. “But rules are rules, right? And if you’re going to enforce them, you’d better be ready to play by them too.”

Stiles huffed, his eyes darting away as if debating whether or not his pride could take the hit. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he mumbled something under his breath.

“What was that?” you teased, leaning closer.

“I said, please,” he repeated, his voice louder this time but dripping with exaggerated dramatics. “Please don’t let go of my hand. Please, keep holding it forever and ever. Please, please, please. I need your hands. Are you happy now?”

You laughed, a warm, genuine sound that made his pout falter. “Very,” you said, pressing another kiss to his knuckles before settling back beside him into the couch.

Stiles grumbled something incoherent, though the faint smile tugging at his lips betrayed him. “This is going in the boyfriend code,” he muttered.

“Oh, absolutely,” you said, your tone playful. “Right under the part about how I get to make the rules from now on.”

“Don’t push your luck,” he warned, though his hands tightened around yours, as if letting go wasn’t even an option anymore.

Stiles sighed, leaning back into the couch and pulling your joined hands into his lap, his thumb tracing soft patterns over your knuckles. His earlier dramatics had melted away, replaced by a quiet contentment that made his brown eyes warm and soft as they glanced over at you.

“You know,” he said after a moment, his voice low and affectionate, “For all the grief you give me, I really lucked out with you.”

You smiled, tilting your head to rest on his shoulder. “You’re just now figuring that out?”

“Hey,” he protested, though there was no real heat behind it. “I’ve always known. It’s just… days like this? They remind me.”

His fingers squeezed yours lightly, his other hand coming up to gently brush a stray strand of hair from your face. His touch was so tender, so uncharacteristically delicate, it made your chest tighten in the best way.

“I love you,” he said, the words so simple and sincere they left no room for teasing.

“I love you too,” you replied, your voice just as soft, just as sure.

For a while, neither of you said anything more. The silence wasn’t awkward—it was warm and full, broken only by the sound of your steady breaths and the occasional rustle of the blanket draped over both your laps.

Eventually, Stiles shifted, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to your forehead. When he pulled back, his eyes were bright and full of that boyish charm you adored.

“Okay, but seriously,” he said, the corners of his mouth quirking up in a grin, “Next time we have a relationship negotiation, I’m bringing a lawyer.”

You laughed, swatting at his chest as he grinned even wider. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re stuck with me,” he shot back, pulling you closer until you were half-curled against him.

“Forever,” you agreed, your voice soft and full of promise.

He didn’t respond—not verbally, anyway. Instead, he pressed another kiss to the top of your head, his arms tightening around you as if to say, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

[whereismyhat5678]

Hey.

I’m gonna be off Tumblr for more than a few days. I’m sorry this is so sudden but I think I need a little break from the internet for a while.

I don’t really know when I’ll be back but I think for now I’m just not gonna be active.

I hope everyone is doing well, I just need a break.

[moreaujeans]

quite pleasantly surprised by wicked movie but i Will say we were robbed of elphaba leaning in close to glinda saying “come with me to the emerald city” followed by glinda’s “i’ve always wanted to see the emerald city” while looking deep into her eyes arms around her shoulders twirling elphaba’s hair

[zorosdimples]

knowing i should take a step back from tumblr for my own wellbeing vs. being emotionally attached to this app and the people on it

[rouge-fauna]

I think you’re talking about these posts [here & here], I don’t know if there have been others.

I'm not gonna say what I did was right, you are correct I should probably just not respond to asks getting me to talk about other people. I will say for these two posts those people had already blocked me I’m pretty sure, so it’s kinda hard to talk directly to them in that case. And I was not doing so anonymously and had not blocked them so I wasn’t hiding what I was saying. I did not follow them, I am not part of the innitor community, and not that that makes it right but I do think it is kinda different. Though you make a good point, perhaps we should stop this pattern of responding to asks about other blogs and such.

Still, the biggest thing to me I realized, back in elementary school when I first dealt with this, was that honestly all the time we talk about people behind their back. Talking about people when they aren’t always in the room is kinda just inevitable and part of socializing, however I think the important part is how you are talking about other people. It’s when you are insulting them, talking negatively about them to people they know, spreading false information and so on that it becomes not okay. Hopefully that makes sense.

In these cases I merely focused on the lore. I didn’t insult them or talk shit about them, as a person, as a blog or say their takes were stupid or they are stupid or speculate about their trauma or mental history. I just talked about reasons why I disagreed, or saw things differently and why we might see things differently. They were also not the only ones I saw to say similar things so I think in my mind I was making more of a general discussion, not trying to target them specifically. I didn’t post beyond that about them. But you are right, regardless it was probably not the right way to go about things.

But just to be clear, if I am a hypocrite it is not my intention. I haven’t vague blogged anyone or meant to vague reblog anyone. I think this week is pretty much the first time I’ve ever been not naming, passive aggressively talking about blogs, and even then I’m not trying to insult them, trying to cancel them. I’m just expressing that before you go off about how I’m stupid and unable to have a discussion about it, the very least you could’ve done was give me an opportunity to try.

[blushy-tigerrr]

vent in tags sorry

cw: mention of loss

[tarantula-hawk-wasp]

Idk if I’m over or under stimulated but I am one of them and I feel like I want to disintegrate into dust like that one sea critter that the video of it twisting in a spiral and then bursting into its cloud of babies to reproduce.

[merriclo]

ahsjkds rant/vent in the tags

[shego1142]

I’m failing and I know I’m failing but please if someone can just tell me that it’s okay, that I’m allowed to fail, I’ve been given permission to fail and I don’t have to worry anymore I’ll still have a house, a home, friends and family and food and maybe a nice thing to do or something entertaining for a little while

Tell me it’s not all my fault, it can be some my fault but tell me it’s not all my fault all mine all alone

Tell me it’s not that everything is exactly this hard for everyone and only I am the one who is getting left behind

That can’t be it right? It can’t be this hard for everyone, right?

Tell me the bone deep weariness is a missing vitamin

Tell me the exhaustion and pain is a sickness

It doesn’t have to have a cure just don’t tell me it’s the norm

Tell me it’s not just excuses

Tell me you believe me, tell me you know it’s not just an excuse.

Tell me you have seen how hard I try.

Just let me know if I can stop trying so hard

Because I’m starting to think my best is not enough

So just tell me if I can stop giving it my all?

Tell me you’re proud of my attempts even if they don’t come with success

Even if they never come with success

Tell me I’m missing a vitamin

Me: You know how when you were a kid and you’d wish that you’d get sick or injured in a way that would justify why you didn’t live up to your potential?

Everybody, apparently: No?

[stunie]

“NEEDIN’ A RIDE REAL, REAL BAD!!”

HAIKYUU + THIGH RIDING ᯓ⭑ ft. bokuto koutarou, daichi sawamura, kuroo tetsurou, miya atsumu, sakusa kiyoomi, & ushijima wakatoshi x f!reader

contains : explicit smut (18+), thigh riding / dry humping, phone call (keep quiet n ride!), risky sex / very mild: cw exhibitionism, squirting, teasing, praise, kissing <3, hair pulling (you to them), orgasm denial, usage of pet names — 2.9K WC

note : yayya my first haikyuu post on here ! this is my response to this thirst here ૮꒰˶˃ ^ ˂̵˵꒱ა hope u all have fun reading this <3

KUROO TETSUROU.

“Whoa whoa,” Kuroo coos through a breathy chuckle, big hand wrapping around your hip to hold you still against his thigh. “Easy now, pretty thing. Let’s pause for a second, okay?”

The sound of your protests and whines almost make him cave right off the bat. “…Tetsu..” you sulk, corners of your lips curling into a sad pout even when he gives you an apologetic smile before he’s jutting his thumb to gesture at his phone, the irritating melody of his ringtone repeating itself as the screen lights up, “Incoming call from: Kenma!” displayed across the top.

“Sorryy,” he huffs. “Can’t. This one’s important.”

He’s giving you a reassuring squeeze around your hip, a silent reminder that he’ll give you everything you need in a few minutes, but you’re not having any of that. Your arms come to stubbornly wrap around his neck before he can pick up the call, sugar sweet voice already making pleas only a second later.

On any other given day, you would have let him take the call with only an irritated huff— just not today. Not with the way you can already feel your orgasm running away from you. “P-please, please Tetsu,” you sob, “I was so close. Can’t wait any longer.. please?”

His eyes are widening a bit at the unfamiliar desperation in your voice, grunt slipping out when his cock reacts to it too, twitching and slapping against his stomach— a reoccurring habit that seems to only occur whenever you give him that needy little look of yours.

“Awww,” he whispers, and you barely catch the strain in his voice. “Well I’m sorry for ruining your moment, angel.”

You’re practically purring as soon as you feel his hand come to lightly cup your jaw, immediately melting into his touch as he smiles in response. “Ah— fine,” Kuroo caves as soon as he sees your hands coming to cutely hold his wrist in place. “Guess i can’t stop you if you need it so bad. But listen here..”

His thumb moves from your jaw, digit pressing into your bottom lip to angle your face at him. The look you’re giving him is just to die for, pouty lips soft against his thumb and you’re peering up at him through those pleady eyes— as if there was even a single chance that Kuroo would ever deny his pretty girl of an orgasm in the first place.

“Nothing crazy. Deal? Kenma hears and..” he presses a little harder into your lip, watching the way your tongue comes to swipe at the invasive finger. “Me and you? Are never hearing the end of it.”

You’re swiftly nodding as soon as the words register, hands coming to rest on the muscles of his shoulders as you resume your movement the next second, gasping at the way your clit catches against his thigh. “Kenma?” You hear him hum, tucking his phone between his cheek and shoulder— quick and casual.

Maybe too casual.

“Mmm,” his eyes flicker back towards you when you take in a sharp inhale. “So it’s about that. You sure you don’t wanna meet up to go over it?”

A loud gasp slips out from you when he abruptly grabs you by your waist, and your hands slam over your mouth, Kuroo tensing beneath you. “…Hm? Yeah, I’m listening.” He chuckles, regaining his composure in an instant as he starts to rock you back and forth against his leg— and fast.

The roughness has your face contorting, nails digging deep into his shoulders as you try and resist the strong hands guiding you back and forth— try and slow him down a bit, delay your oncoming orgasm by even second if anything at all. You hadn’t expected it to come back so fast, and.. you both knew good and well that you weren’t gonna be able to stay quiet.

You give him a look, something resembling your best attempt at a glare, but he’s ignoring it— casually chatting with kenma about something you can’t quite catch. You’re only left to bite your lip, eyebrows deeply furrowed as you desperately fight the knot tightening inside your belly, thighs clamping against his own as he flexes his quad straight into you.

“Oh,” Kuroo says, hand leaving your waist to pick up his phone again, finger hovering over the ‘mute’ button, and your body is falling limp onto his chest, hands balancing yourself on him as you peer up at him through tired eyes and a heavy pant. “Actually..”

“..Looks like I got a bit of a problem to take care of here first.” He smiles. “So give me a minute, yeah?”

MIYA ATSUMU.

“Gonna have to keep that pretty voice of yours down.” Atsumu’s lips brush against the shell of your ear, big hands tight around your hips as he drags you up and down his thigh. “Or ‘Samu’s gonna hear ya.”

Your hips stutter against his leg, drawing a sharp gasp from you- and he curses under his breath. Osamu would be back any second now, and yet he’s got you seated on him, your lounge shorts pulled to the side so he can draw one quick orgasm out of you before the three of you head out for dinner.

Because you— Atsumu’s impatient lil bunny, or so he calls you, just couldn’t wait until after the dinner to get a quick treat.

“‘M trying.” You whisper, voice breathless and whiny, and you tighten your embrace around his middle, burying your face deep into the fabric of his sweater. “Feels ‘s good… so good— need more..”

“I know, I know— later, yeah?” He sounds unsteady from how roughly he’s moving you against him, muscles of his thigh flexing and hardening underneath you. “Gonna give it to ya real good. stuff ya nice and full. How’s that sound, dirty girl?”

You want that.

You know exactly how easy it’d be for him to get you gushing underneath his cock if it weren’t for your insistence on him not cumming. And well.. it kind of made sense to him— considering how your last creampie went. His mind thinks back to how you looked with his cum dribbling down your thighs as you nervously clamped them together, and how no one seemed to noticed the juices dripping into a neat little puddle beneath you.

It’d be so easy— he’s got you all mapped out and knows you like the back of his hand. He could just push those pretty thighs of yours up to your face, hold them nice and still as he pummels the deep spot inside you that has you chanting his name over and over, and your cunt would be gushing right after that.

“‘Tsumu.” You choke out, tightly latching onto him like a koala, “‘M gonna cum..!”

“You are, aren’t ya? I can tell.” He groans, and his thigh bounces up into you, mumbling a curse under his breath when you squeal at the roughness. “Show me that pretty face when you’re lettin’ go.”

A couple more rolls of your hips and you’re gasping and stuttering against him, Atsumu pulling you just right against his thigh as your eyes slam shut, knot inside you violently snapping in an instant as you tremble underneath him, your mouth falling open in a silent scream.

“That’s my fuckin’ girl.” His voice comes out deep and breathy, hands tightening their grip on you. “Ride it all out f’ me, rela- oh s-shit.”

Your eyes widen as soon as the sound of footsteps registers in your mind, and your head swiftly turns back to see that Atsumu’s already pulling your shorts back over your cunt, your juices immediately soaking through the fabric as he holds you flush against his chest, big hand cradling the back of your head.

“‘Tsumu..!” You whisper, but he’s shushing you with gentle strokes along the back of your head.

“What, ‘Samu?” he calls out, his mind putting together a silent prayer that his twin was not about to open the door.

His prayers go unanswered.

“You two ready yet?” Osamu’s asking as soon as he flings open the door, the knob accidentally slipping through his grasp, and your door crashes against your wall with a loud thud a second later.

You faintly hear him mutter an “oops” before his eyes are finally falling on you, brow raising at the sight of you clinging tightly onto atsumu as your chest heaves up and down.

SAKUSA KIYOOMI.

“What?” you can feel your concentration falter as soon as the sound of Sakusa’s voice reaches you, and you’re immediately wiping at the frustrated tears that have begun to collect along your lashes. “Can’t cum like that?”

You’re quick to shake your head, and he doesn’t miss the slight tremble to your lips. Cute.

Sakusa had his doubts about this idea of yours from the start. He knows how needy you always get— knows that despite that innocent face of yours, your cunt’s anything but. It’s greedy. Something like this was probably not gonna be able to get you to finish, and he knew that.. but a part of him was just curious.

What he wasn’t expecting, however, was to see you this frustrated. Your chest is rising up and down with each angry pant, arm coming to rub at your nose from the occasional sniffle after being denied orgasm after orgasm.

And him? he’s never felt such a strong ache before. The dark spot on his shorts are a tell-tale sign that he’s been leaking with pre-cum, and he can practically feel it starting to drip down his cock. Neither of you were doing so well, and if he was being honest, he’s on the verge of flipping you over and putting you in a mating press— but the small voice inside him wants to see you come undone on his thighs. Badly.

He’s just gotta see how you look.

“Need your cock, Omi.” You mumble, rising onto your knees to scoot further up, but he’s stopping you only a second later. “Omi? Why..?”

“No.” he says flatly. “You don’t.”

“I do!” You’re protesting immediately after, hands balancing on his shoulders. “Can’t finish without it— ah!”

You yelp when he’s roughly pulling you back down, his quad flexing as soon as your cunt makes contact with his leg. The hands around your hips are tight, and Sakusa’s setting a rhythm only a moment later, keeping the muscles of his legs firm and flexed to better rub against your clit.

“W-wait!” You’re stammering, whining straight into his ear as you frantically latch onto him. He lets you bury your face into the crook of his neck as he works you closer to your high, forcing you into a mind-numbing pace to have you flying right off the edge in a few more seconds.

“You can— don’t fight it.” His voice comes out as a deep grunt, a result of his dragged out attempts at ignoring the borderline painful throb of his cock, and oh- he was so going to take you in a mating press after this. The second you’re finished gushing, he was gonna flip you over and finally rid himself this irritating ache.

“Omi!” You sob, eyes clenching shut as your hips start to stutter, and he can feel you trembling underneath his hands. “Omi.. O-omi— ‘m close!” He only responds by roughly pressing his thigh up against you, thick muscle hitting your clit just right as you choke out a scream, finally gushing all over his thighs.

“See?” He exhales, breath hitching in his throat when your nails dig deep into his back, his hands slowly moving you up and down to ride out your high.

“You can.”

DAICHI SAWAMURA.

“Feeling good, huh? Don’t try to fight it.”

Daichi grunts when you tug at his hair a little harder, face buried deep into his front as you desperately hump his leg. He’s gentle with you, strong hands guiding you up and down his leg, but he’d be lying if he said his patience wasn’t starting to wear thin.

The sweet nothings he’s been whispering into your ear this entire time are starting to sound a lot less like cooing and a lot more like grunting.

He couldn’t help it. He can feel you so so vividly, feel your juices dripping down the sides of his thigh and hear you moaning straight into his chest. You were soaked through and through, and it’s taking everything in him to stay patient and let you have this.

“There you go.” He’s praising you when you grind against him particularly hard, ignoring the way his shorts are feeling painfully tight around his cock. “Just like that— move exactly like that.”

“Daichi,” you whine. “‘M getting so close— feels so good.”

“Yeah?” He exhales deeply, and the way his cock twitches suddenly has him groaning, hands squeezing a bit too hard against your hips as you wince. “Daichi..?”

“Oops, sorry princess.” He’s clenching his jaw, giving you a weak smile as you wrap your arms around him. “That’s my bad. Don’t mind me, okay? Just.. worry about yourself— this is all about you right now.”

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI.

You weren’t as subtle as you thought.

His legs just looked so strong, so perfect to sit on, and you couldn’t help yourself. He didn’t seem to think too much of it when you first sat a little lower than you usually did, straddling his mid thigh as he flipped through another manga that Tendou had lent him earlier that week.

Just subtle movements up and down his thigh was your original plan, but it didn’t take very long for him to catch on.

“What are you doing?” Ushijima’s voice has you jolting from where you’re seated on his left thigh, his gaze now on you and the way you’re frantically waving your arms around in defense, barely able to stammer out a “N-nothing!”

You just barely catch the way his eyebrow raises in suspicion. It has you moving off him the next second, but he’s tossing aside the manga, big and strong hands easily wrapping around your hips to keep you planted on him.

“Don’t leave yet.” He says, stern and flat, but you catch the hint of curiosity swirling deep in his eyes.

The familiar heat of embarrassment is flooding to your face in an instant, and your head hangs low. “S-sorry, Toshi.” You mumble, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. “Your thighs just looked so big, just wanted to… ride them.”

It’s silent.

You work up the courage to snack a glance at him again, now faced with the sight of his head tilted a bit, as if confused by your confession. “B-but!” You continue, mouth already running off on its own. “Forget it, okay? It might be weird— Toshi..?”

It was just one little flex of his quad, one that had the muscle pushing up against your clit, but the way his name rolled off your tongue sounded sinful. You can feel his grip around your hips tightening a bit, and he’s leaning in to close the gap between the two of you.

“Wouldn’t it feel better like this?”

BOKUTO KOUTAROU.

It started off with an accidental brush of his knee against your cunt.

Bokuto had always been eager with his kisses. He had you pinned down on his mattress, body hovering over yours as he moved his lips against your own— and he hadn’t even noticed anything different until he heard you suddenly moan into his mouth. He’s pulling away the next second, eyes wide as he tries gauging your reaction again, bringing his knee back to rub over your cunt. And … just like clockwork, your eyes clench shut and you choke back a gasp.

He swallows thickly.

Only five minutes later and he’s got you seated on his thigh, moving you back and forth with a needy grunt, his free hand squeezing your cheeks as he forces you to look up at him. “Don’t look away, ‘kay?”

“You look pretty— pretty like that. I just wanna see.”

The look on his face isn’t much different from yours. His mouth is slightly parted in desperate pants, deep red spreading across his cheeks at the sight of you feeling good on his leg. He’s swallowing deeply before he takes in a sharp inhale right after, already pussy drunk and his dick hasn’t even touched you yet.

The way your face starts to contort when you’re rapidly approaching your high has him just hoping he doesn’t end up finishing untouched. It’s throbbing— absolutely aching with need and as soon as you start sobbing his name, he can feel his patience shatter into thin pieces.

You let out a loud yelp as soon as your back hits the mattress, Bokuto looming over you with a strained look on his face as he rushes to line his tip up with your hole. “S-sorry.” His voice is just above a growl. “I can’t help it after all. It’s okay though, right? Gonna make you feel good.”

[foxy-eva]

Send Nudes

Summary: Chaos ensues after you accidentally send Spencer a nude pic

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader 

Category: Smut

Content Warnings: (18+, minors DNI) dub-con (Spencer receives an unsolicited nude pic), embarrassment, awkwardness, tension, heavy kissing, male masturbation, oral (fem receiving), handjob, protected penetrative sex

Author's Note: I wrote this for @imagining-in-the-margins Wrong Recipient Challenge!

Word count: 3.2k

Masterlist

Panic. Embarrassment. Shame. 

It was hard to describe what you felt when you stared at your phone, realizing that you had just sent Spencer Reid a nude picture of yourself. 

It was a mistake, of course – right when you wanted to send him a screenshot of an article, you stumbled over the mess in your apartment and selected the wrong picture. Frozen in place, you watched in horror as the read receipt showed up instantly. 

Spencer had just seen your naked body light up on the screen of his phone. 

A picture he never asked for and probably didn't want to see. It wasn’t a bad photo, some might even call it aesthetically pleasing. But you had never intended for anyone else to see it. It was just a way for you to make yourself feel good about your body. 

You contemplated your options. Burning your phone, moving across the country and changing your identity sounded intriguing but difficult to arrange. Instead you decided to text Spencer, hoping that soon you’d both be able to laugh about the embarrassing thing you just did. 

“I am so sorry about that. I really didn't mean to send that! Can you please delete the pic and forget about it?” 

You didn't get a response. Spencer was never great at texting but you had really hoped to hear back from him. It was hard to tell if he felt just as embarrassed or maybe even offended – you certainly wouldn't want to receive unsolicited nude pics either. 

You had barely gotten any sleep when you walked into work the next morning. Worst case scenarios had plagued your mind all night – from another painful workplace sexual harassment seminar to maybe even losing your job over your mishap – you had no idea what would expect you today. 

Everything seemed normal when you got to your desk, except for the fact that your favorite coworker didn't even look at you when you walked by him. Spencer usually liked sitting beside you in the conference room and also on the jet, but he did neither of those things that day. 

“Wow you really must have pissed Reid off, huh?” Luke whispered when he sat down beside you on the plane. 

“Did he say anything to you?” you wanted to know. 

“No, he didn't. What did you do? Spill coffee over his favorite chess board?” he teased. 

“Oh it’s so much worse than that,” you whined while heat rushed to your face. 

Emily decided to discuss the case before Luke could ask more questions. Spencer avoided you for the next couple of hours until you decided you both had suffered enough. 

A quiet moment in the coffee kitchen of the police precinct seemed good enough to approach him.

“Hey Spencer,” you said and noticed how he almost jumped at the sound of your voice. 

“H…hi,” he mumbled, his eyes fixated on the floor.

Stepping closer, he finally looked at you for the first time that day. The rosy shade spreading over his cheeks was impossible to ignore. 

“I’m very sorry about the… you know. I didn't mean to send it but I understand if you feel offended by it,” you sincerely told him. 

“I’m not… offended.”

You took a deep breath before you continued talking, “All I want to say is… if you want to discuss this incident with Emily or even HR, I would understand. I never wanted to make you uncomfortable in any way.” 

“No, it’s okay, really,” he lied. “We can just forget about it.” 

Spencer Reid was good at many things. Lying, however, definitely wasn’t his strong suit. You decided to drop the subject for now, aware that talking more about it would probably not make him less uncomfortable. 

The tension between you two was palpable for the rest of the workday. When you stepped into your hotel room that night, you were relieved to finally have a couple of walls between the two of you. 

If this thing didn't resolve soon, you’d have to talk to Emily about it eventually. But there was still hope that it wouldn't come to that. The embarrassment about your mishap was already bad enough as is.

The three knocks on your hotel door startled you. With your heart beating uncomfortably fast, you walked over to the door to find Spencer on the other side. 

He walked into your room without saying a word. Then he began slowly pacing up and down your room, still silent. He looked at you for a second but his sight fell to the floor immediately after that. 

“I uh…” he began before taking a deep breath. “I lied to you earlier.”

“About what?” you wanted to clarify. “Wanting to go to HR?” 

He shook his head. “I said that we can just forget about it but I don’t think I can do that.” 

Your heart felt heavy at his words. His discomfort pained you and you wished nothing more than to be able to take it back. “I’m so sorry Spencer.”

“I deleted the image off my phone but…” he paused to finally look at you. The expression written over his face was hard to read. What you didn't find was the discomfort you expected. Instead he looked… cocky?

He continued, “...it seems like it’s burned into my brain. And I can’t help but wonder, was it really an accident?”

“What?! Of course!” you squeaked. “Believe me, I would never want to send you a picture like that unprompted.”

That was when you saw a subtle smirk on his face. “Interesting choice of words.” 

You thought about it for a moment. Had you really just implied that you would want to send him nudes if he’d ask you to? 

“That's not what I meant,” you tried to brush it off. “And please don’t give me a lecture about Freudian slips.”

His presence filled the room and you felt like you couldn't take deep enough breaths to satiate your need for oxygen. His demeanor was so different from what you were used to and you had trouble wrapping your head around it.

His next question was even more surprising. “Who did you take this picture for?” 

The undertone in his voice was unsettling and you started feeling defensive. “I don’t see how that's any of your business but just for the record, I took it for myself. I do that occasionally to make myself feel good about my body.” 

It seemed as if he was content, almost relieved with your answer. You scanned his body language again and replayed his words in your head. Then it hit you all at once. Spencer was not here to scold you for what you did. 

He was jealous. And he wanted to make sure no one else got to see your picture. 

A grin formed on your face as you realized that you could play this game too.

Your tone was laced with a certain playfulness when you asked, “What did you do after you saw the picture?”

The change of your demeanor seemed to take Spencer by surprise. “I just told you, I deleted it.” 

“I don't think that's all you did.” He audibly gulped and you noticed his cheeks taking on a reddish color. Stepping closer to him, you whispered, “Did you touch yourself, Spencer?”

A shaky breath left his mouth before he confessed, “Yes.”

“Naughty boy,” You teased him. “You really liked that image, hm?” 

Nodding, he took a step forward until there was barely any space between the two of you. “I can't stop thinking about you.”

His words boosted your confidence. “I know I look great in that pic. But I think I would look even better in this lighting right here, don’t you think?” 

Before you could bring to action what you had insinuated, you felt Spencer's hands cupping your face to pull you into a kiss. The surprised gasp escaping your throat was muffled by his lips against yours. 

He kissed you with a fervor that knocked the air out of your lungs. Weakness rushed to your knees and you had to hold onto him to not tumble back. One hand pawed at his shirt while the other one held onto his shoulder. His lips felt soft yet firm against yours. 

When his tongue begged for entrance, you let it. As he deepened the kiss, you could feel heat rushing through body. A few moments ago you really thought you’d have the upper hand in this game you were playing but now realized you were just as pathetic as he was. 

Maybe sending him that image was a Freudian slip of some kind. Or maybe it was just some odd plan the universe had to bring you together. Either way, you were grateful for how things turned out. 

Your hands became curious as they wandered over Spencer’s body. The tingling in your fingertips could only be soothed by feeling his skin underneath them, so they quickly began unbuttoning his shirt. Spencer showed a similar interest in feeling more of you by the way his fingers dropped down to the hem of your shirt. 

Piece after piece both of your clothes fell to the floor, only ever breaking the kiss for as long as necessary. When you stood completely bare in front of one another, you dared to press your body against his to feel him. 

It was impossible to tell who moaned first when his length pressed against your stomach. With a firm grip on his shoulders, you moved him back until his legs made contact with the edge of the bed. You pushed down until he sat on the mattress, staring up at you with a curiosity in his eyes that made your heart jump. 

As you stepped back, his tongue darted out of his mouth to lick over his lips and you wondered if he thought about tasting you. To your surprise, he managed to not break eye contact until you challenged him, “Go on, take a look.”

His sight scanned your body, lingering on your breasts for a second before moving further down, taking everything in. You couldn’t hold back from looking at him, too. A rosy color had spread all over his cheeks and chest and when you dared to drop your eyes to his cock, you noticed how it twitched slightly against his thigh. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he cooed when your eyes met again. 

“Better than the image?” you teased, smirking at him. 

He only nodded before looking at your body again. It was like he was mesmerized, as if a miracle had just unfolded right before him. It became obvious that he was ready to worship you if you’d let him. But first, you had something else in your mind. 

“Show me exactly what you did when you saw my picture,” you told him. 

He raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “Wh… what?” 

“Don’t be shy now,” you snickered. “Come on, I wanna see how pretty you think I am.” 

The sweet smile on your face seemed to encourage him enough to let his right hand move towards his hardness. It was as if he needed reassurance when he found your eyes and you nodded.

He wrapped his fingers around his cock, giving himself a squeeze and you watched as precum spilled over the tip. Slowly, he began moving his fist up and down his length, swiping his thumb over the head each time he got to the top. The groan that slipped from his lips could only be described as absolutely sinful. 

You couldn’t deny how much the sight in front of you turned you on. Spencer was so incredibly beautiful and the thought that your body had the ability to make him feral like that drove you insane. 

Arousal gathered at your entrance the longer you watched him. This show was no longer enough for you, you needed more. Your hands found the curve of your chest, gently kneading them before your fingers began toying with your hardened peaks. Spencer’s eyes were fixated on your hands, his mouth hanging wide open and unabashedly moaning at the sight while accelerating the pace of his hand. 

Then suddenly, he stopped and got up from bed. Desperation was written all over his face when he looked at you. 

“Please,” he begged as he stepped closer. “I need to touch you.” 

It was everything you wanted right then, too. 

“I’m all yours, Spencer.” 

His mouth was on yours in an instant and he didn’t waste any time to move you over to the bed to push you onto the mattress. He followed quickly, towering over you as he kissed down your neck, making you moan in anticipation of what would follow. 

He moved further down your body, kissing and nipping on the tender flesh of your breasts before focusing his attention on your nipples. The sensation was almost unbearable and you could feel how your arousal began coating the insides of your thighs. 

Spencer smiled against your skin when he noticed you rocking your hips against his leg every so slightly. His confidence grew as he realized that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. 

“Needy,” he chuckled as he kissed down your stomach. “That’s cute.” 

Right then you couldn’t care less about being in charge, you just wanted to be taken care of. When his lips brushed over your inner thigh, you opened your legs further to give him better access. He lay down between your legs and didn’t waste any time before he began leaving feather light kisses against your folds. 

You watched as he licked his own lips, tasting your essence on them before he found your eyes. 

“You’re so wet,” he teased and let a finger move along your slit. “Is that all for me?” 

He expected a witty response, like you telling him to bring his mouth to good use for once. So it took him by surprise when you simply sighed, “Yes.” 

There was no more game to play. No more back and forth of who was in charge. It was just the two of you, equally as desperate to finally do what you both had been dreaming of for weeks.

“Good,” Spencer whispered, his hot breath tickling your core, before he finally granted you some relief. 

His tongue moved through your folds, collecting your taste before he focussed on your most sensitive spot. He experimented with different motions for a few moments, paying attention to your reactions until he found what you enjoyed the most. Your hand flew to his hair, your fingers intertwining with his curls to hinder him from moving away – even though he had no intention to do so, anyway. 

With one arm wrapped around your thigh he hindered you from bucking uncontrollably against his face while his other hand found your entrance, letting two fingers slip into you with ease. He moved with great precision, adjusting the angle and the pace according to your reactions, bringing you closer to your breaking point with every second passing. 

The sounds of your pleasure filled the room as you began dancing along the brink of euphoria. With just a few more skillful motions, he pushed you over it. Your walls pulsed around his fingers while your entire body shook. He worked you through your orgasm before he lay back down beside you, placing a gentle kiss against your lips. 

You were still panting when you found his eyes. The warm amber of his irises was almost completely swallowed by his pupils, the lust visible in his eyes contradicting the saccharine smile he showed you. 

“You okay?” he breathed as he wrapped one arm around your waist. 

“Yeah,” you confirmed while one of your hands moved down his body. 

Tentatively, you let your fingertips brush along his length, feeling his velvety skin under your touch. “Now what are we gonna do with you?” you purred as you wrapped your fingers tightly around him, making him gasp. 

With a torturously slow pace, you moved along his cock. “Tell me, Spencer. What do you want?” 

“I uhm…,” he audibly swallowed. “I have a condom in my pocket.” 

The fact that he brought a condom to your hotel room when he came over early amused you. He never had any intention of just talking to you. 

“So, you want to fuck me?” 

“Yes,” he admitted unabashedly. “If you want that, too, of course.”

With a nod you confirmed that that was exactly what you wanted as well. Right after you let go of him, he grabbed his pants from the floor to take out the foil wrapper. You watched as he ripped it open and carefully rolled down the condom. 

Then, he kneeled down between your legs, taking a moment to admire the beauty of the woman in front of him. 

“Come here,” you cooed and he leaned over you without hesitation. 

Reaching between your bodies, you guided him to your entrance. He closed his eyes when he slowly entered you, relishing the sensation of stretching you open inch by inch. When he was fully inside you, he kissed you before he began moving with slow thrusts.

Wrapping your legs around his hips, you brought him even closer. When he was sure that you could take it, he accelerated his pace, fucking you against the mattress until you were sure you would lose your mind. 

Spencer’s body began trembling and he suddenly stopped moving. 

“Sorry, I’m really close,” he whined and tried to pull out slightly. 

“Don’t stop,” you pleaded as you kept him in place with your legs around him. “Please, I need it.”

One of your hands moved down to where your bodies were joined to desperately draw circles around your little nub, making you clench hard around his hardness. 

“Fuck,” he whimpered as he began moving again. “I can’t, ah–” 

With just a few more deep thrusts Spencer came, his cock twitching inside you as his whole body shook. It was enough to throw you over edge too, entering a state of pure bliss together with him. After you had both come down from your high, you welcomed him inside your embrace, your fingertips gently dancing over his back as he caught his breath. 

For the sake of getting cleaned up you separated for a few moments, only to lay back down together soon after. A shaky breath fell from Spencer’s lips and caught your attention. 

“So…,” he began talking but didn’t continue. 

You propped yourself up on one elbow to find his eyes. “Yeah?”

“I wanted to ask if maybe–” 

“You want me to send you that pic again?” you interrupted him with a grin on your face. 

“No,” he laughed. “I mean… that’s not what I wanted to say.”

Still in a teasing mood, you snickered, “But you would like to see that pic again?”

“You know what,” he chuckled as he lifted the blanket to get a peek at your naked body. “I think I actually prefer this.”

“Good,” you chirped. “If you want to see more of me you’ll have to take me on a date though.”

Placing a soft kiss on your lips, he whispered, “Deal.”

Thank you for reading! Please like, reblog and leave a comment to show your support and help me stay motivated to write more stories!

Taglist: @adoredfromafar @grumpyy-bearr @frickin-bats @pleasantwitchgarden @cynbx @xserenax-13 @alexxavicry @samuel-de-champagne-problems @evvy96 @reidsbookclub @lover-of-books-and-tea @sebs-oxygen @nomajdetective @kobaltdragon @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @castiels-majestic-wings

[sanemistar]

᧔o᧓ satoru x fem!reader, established relationship (married with a son), lots of fluff, i’m just so obsessed with dad gojo he’s living in my head rent free

you never expected to get a call from your son’s school on his very first day, you were pretty sure he was just fine before satoru had taken him to school this morning. you walked out of the house and quickly headed to your son’s school, worried about him.

the moment you arrived, you were shocked to see satoru was still there, with his arms tightly clinging onto his son’s body as he sobbed against his ears, refusing to let go until you had to intervene and pull him away.

“mrs gojo, we’re very sorry to call you so suddenly. but as you can see, mr gojo has been like this for the past 30 minutes, and classes have already started.” the principal said and you politely bowed your head, you grabbed your husband’s head and forcefully made him bow in apology

“let’s go to class now, baby. listen to your teachers and be a good boy, okay? if you do well today, mommy will get you a treat.” your son nodded obediently and you kissed his forehead before dragging satoru, and walking out of the school.

“toru, i can’t believe you would cling to your son like that. you could’ve made him miss his classes.” you scolded your husband, who was still sulking about leaving his son alone. his head drooped down in discouragement.

you knew your husband was so clingy, which was why you were skeptical about letting him take your son on his first day of school when he asked you to this morning. but he begged you so much with his irresistible puppy eyes so you couldn’t say no. if you knew he’d act like that, you wouldn’t agree to it in the first place.

“but babe, what if he gets scared or hurt when i’m not there to protect him?” he tried justifying his actions, you were aware of his good intentions and his fear was reasonable considering the fact that it’s a completely new environment from home, and you too wished you wouldn’t have to leave him. but it was bound to happen anyway and you had to brace yourself for it.

you sighed and patted satoru’s head, your fingers running through his soft, white locks in soothing motions. you couldn't stay mad at him any longer.

"i understand how you feel. it was hard leaving him there, i miss him already. but toru, it's a part of his growing up process. one day he's going to grow up and have his own life, so until then, let's protect him together while he explores life." you said with a smile, entwining your hand with his as he grabbed your hand, kissing the back of it softly.

“not only is my wife beautiful, but she’s also very wise. i love you, y/n.” satoru murmured gently before leaning in to leave a sweet kiss on your forehead.

[misaamoure]

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭:

𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐭!!

⋅ ˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

𝐒𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐬:

“You must be out of your damn mind if you think that’s gonna fit in me.”

Sylus looked almost offended as you pointed down at his obnoxiously large appendage.

“I’m sorry, I thought you said you liked big dicks?”

You and Sylus had finally gotten in the mood to go all the way… until he pulled his pants and boxers down.

The pure shock on your face was an ego booster for him.

Then he developed his own look of pure shock upon you proclaiming that the sex was off.

And upon asking why, your reasoning was, “it won’t fit. Are you stupid?”

Which he immediately responded with, “I’ll make it fit, sweetie. Don’t worry your pretty little head.”

This only serves to piss you off more.

However… you couldn’t deny the fact that you were extremely curious.

How would it feel? How deep would it go? Could you actually take it?

All this pondering led to you begrudgingly taking him up on his offer.

“Sylus, please, enough! Just fuck me… already…!”

It felt like he had been eating you out for hours.

Sucking on your clit, sticking his tongue into you, and occasionally slipping a finger in.

“You think you’re ready for my cock?” He fixed his sanguine gaze right onto your beautiful face.

You nodded vigorously.

“Alright,” He gave your clit on more kiss before sitting up, palming himself a bit for some kind of relief. “Can you turn over for me, kitten?”

Doing exactly as he asked, you didn’t miss a beat. You were more than eager for it at this point.

You felt Sylus’s warm, hard, heavy body embrace yours, as you two were in the prone bone position.

“Tell me if it hurts, okay, Y/N?” You felt him kiss your shoulder tenderly.

“Yes sir.”

“You promise?”

Oh here he goes. You could sense Sylus’s bullshit from a mile away.

“Yes I promise.”

“You sure?”

“Get the fuck on with it already!”

“I’m gonna count down from three.” You felt him run his tip up and down, paying extra attention to your sensitive clit.

“Nnngh… whatever!” He chuckled at your increasing frustration. You were just so cute like this.

“One…”

You felt Sylus thrust his entire cock in at once, making you gasp as tears welled up in your eyes.

“Sylus what the fuck?!” You looked back at him over your shoulder in disbelief.

“It’s better like this, trust me.”

If you were in a state to argue with him, you would. But right now in this moment, you were in no state to tell him off.

You felt so fucking full. It felt like he was in your guts. Big. So big.

And oddly enough… you loved it.

It felt so warm and intimate. Made you wonder what a creampie could be like.

The sensation of Sylus beginning to move inside of you knocked you out of your thoughts.

He was going so incredibly slow… you could feel every single inch, vein, and curve as he slowly pulled half of himself out and thrusted all of it back in.

“Oh my god, it’s so good,” You said breathlessly, barely able to register the feeling of anything but being stuffed to the brim. “It’s so good… what do I do?”

You heard Sylus groan deeply before a dark chuckle escaped his throat.

“Sit back and enjoy, kitten. That’s all you need to do.”

𝐙𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞:

“No Zayne, it’s not gonna fit, I’m serious!”

“We haven’t even tried yet, Y/N. Relax, please.”

While Zayne’s calm demeanor was often grounding, right now you found it nothing short of annoying.

Your little heart was about to beat right out of your chest… you were sure he could practically hear your heartbeats right now. No stethoscope needed!

It was your first time together… neither of you two had seen each other naked before.

So imagine your surprise when Zayne casually pulls his boxers down to reveal the absolute weapon in his pants.

It wasn’t just big length wise… it was thick. Very thick.

And so so pretty. His dick was so incredibly pretty.

A gorgeous pink tip that faded in color towards the base. Like it was made just for you.

You always caught glimpses of his bulge through his slacks, but you didn’t expect it to be so… huge?

A jaw dropping reveal.

Knowing you like the back of his hand, Zayne obviously felt your concerned gaze on him.

And he promised to get you ready for him properly.

Fingering you for a good hour… making you cum multiple times and stretching you out like the good man he was.

“Do you think you’re ready now?” He was between your legs in missionary, staring down at you.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” You sighed.

“I’ll go slow, I promise.” Zayne kissed you lovingly on the cheek.

You nodded, skin brushing against his as he pulled away.

Gasping as you felt his tip rub up and down your folds, you felt him experimentally push into you to see how much force it would take to enter you.

“Zayne…”

“I know. I’ve got you.”

His soothing words did nothing but assure you. Zayne had every bit of your trust, and he had earned it all.

He entered you slowly, using exact force to get just the tip in.

The sensation of that alone made you toss and turn.

He kept pulling out, and pushing in… and pulling out and pushing in… each time inching a bit more of his cock inside you.

“So big… Zayne it’s so big…” You whined out, eyes shut as you weakly pressed as his pelvis with your palm.

“If you’re saying it’s big when I’ve just managed to fit half of my cock inside you,” Zayne struggled to muffle his own sounds between words. “You’re in for a much harder time than you think.”

He continued his method from before… slowly inching more and more of his cock in a he fucked in and out of you slowly.

The pain was undeniable. But something else was also undeniable.

You felt so incredibly full inside. It felt amazing. The fullness mixed with the invigorating friction of each thrust was intensifying by the minute.

“So good… I think… it’s so good… more please…!”

Zayne chuckled at your admission.

“How about this?” Zayne leaned forward to lean on his forearms above you, grinding his thick cock into you with each stroke. “Does that feel good?”

“Yessss… yeah! Feels so good… Zayne!” You’re pretty sure you were babbling like an idiot, but you just couldn’t help it.

Dipping down, he caught your lips with his for a deep kiss.

Pulling away, his eyes bore deep into yours. So deep that you could see yourself reflected in them.

“Do you want me to go faster now?”

“Yes… please… Zayne…!”