#NAVI I LOVE YA

[c4toru]

getting insane backshots from satoru sign me up!

“oh.. o-oh fuckkk toru!” you mewl, your face is shoved into his navy blue bedsheets while your ass is up, back arched intensely.

satoru had gotten a new haircut just in time for valentine’s day. the moment he stepped through the creaking wooden door to your shared home, you practically pounced on him! “yeah? feels soo good huh.. h-heh” he giggles softly, his rough hands gripping onto the plump of your ass. his rotund tip was reaching deep inside your sobbing cunt, pressing directly on your sweet spot causing you to belt out.

“nngh fuckkk p-please toru, harder ah!” you’re reaching your arms back, subliminally begging him to grab you. he latches onto your hands, using them as momentum while he pounds himself into you. “h-harder? mmngh- this isn’t enough for you pretty girl..?” he smiles, the melody of your ass slapping against his hips grows louder.

he releases your arms before pressing his coarse hands into the dimples of your back. he’s angling his hips to hit you deep in that spot you love. “more! m-more fuckkk- just like that..!” you whine, drooling with your lips slightly parted in awe. you can barely keep your eyes open with how good he’s fucking into your sweet cunt.

“c’mon pretty, fuck me y-yeah?” he slaps your ass, motioning for you to bounce yourself back onto him. you twist your body, left hand gripping your ass cheek while turn back slightly to look him in the eyes as you slide your wet pussy onto him. you feel his hefty balls slap onto your puffy clit deliciously while he’s gripping your ankles trying to spread your legs further apart. “g-give it to me toru.. wan’ it please,” you’re pouting, now you’ve really done it.

he pushes your head back into the sheets, fingers wrapping around the back of your neck. “such a f-fucking slut- shiiit.. m’gonna cum, where do ya want it- hah..” you got him whining now, he was done for. “i-inside! don’t miss- nngh..please m’cumming!” your eyes begin to roll to the back of your head, pussy tightening around his lengthy cock, gushing all over him as you chase your high. he’s rutting his hips into you as long white spurts shoot into your womb causing you to mewl.

“f-feel so full toru..” you whimper as you caressing his arm, his chest coming down flushed right to your back. he’s giving you sloppy kisses to your lips that are gleaming with spit, moaning deeply into your mouth. “yeah? sweet girl.. h-heh..” he moans, still periodically grinding his hips up into you. “one more?” he suggests, you grip his chin, planting a wet kiss onto his lips before tucking your bottom lip in between your teeth. “mhm..” you nod.

a/n : not proofread ; currently working on a nerd!suguru fic so i just wanted to post a little drabble in the mean time | likes & reblogs are appreciated!!

[thinkinonsense]

WICKED

old man!logan howlett x young fem!reader

cw: cheating, heavy flirting, smut, kinda dark

authors note: i have no idea what came over me and i cannot explain it. also! gif credit to the amazing n talented @silverskyeline <333

he never should've gone to the bar. never should've let you run your pretty mouth. most definitely never should've bought you that martini. every weekend he watches you seduce the men at the bar until one of them falls into your trap.

logan would scoff, mumbling something under his breath about how stupid that bastard must be. despite the fact that the only thing holding him back from your advances was the thick gold band on his finger, reminding him of where his loyalty should be.

"lovely seeing you here again, logan."

he loathed your wicked smile and how your voice sounded like rain fall. trying his best to avoid staring into the eye of the storm but your presence demanded to be seen. practically ripping his hazel gaze off the wooden table and over to that tiny dress you were wearing. dark navy tight against your skin in a way that could make any man sin.

"missed ya' last weekend." you purr. "where were you at?"

"home." he states, gruffly.

"that's boring. why were you at home?"

"wedding anniversary."

the words made your tummy flip with excitement. you didn’t know much about logan outside of his favorite brands of alcohol, but you did know that he had a wife at home. he never mentioned her by name. sometimes, she would call the bar if it was “too late” for him to be out but other than that, she was a ghost.

“cute. you should bring her here one weekend.” you propose, almost making logan choke on his whisky. “bet she would love to see where you run and hide at night.”

“it’s not her kinda scene.” he responds.

“aw, i’m sure we would be friends.”

“doubtful.”

“and why’s that?” you fake pout.

logan leans in close before whispering, “don’t think she would appreciate you beggin’ for her husband to fuck you in a dirty bar bathroom every weekend.”

“i didn’t say we would stay friends.” you giggle, making his cock stir in his work pants. “also, the invite is still open if you miss fuckin’ someone younger.”

the second you are out of sight, off in the pool room next door annoying some other asshole, he groans under his breath. logan hated how well you read him. you knew he wanted you but you were smart enough to make him come crawling to you if he wanted to feel your tight cunt wrapped around him.

after a couple minutes, a few men left the room and logan got up to take their place. when he walked inside he saw it was empty except for you sitting in one of the chairs on your phone.

“glad you decided to join me.” you smile up at him.

logan ignores you instead going over to get a stick and start playing. you finish your martini and join him as he sets up the balls. catching you off guard, he tosses you a stick too.

“if i win, you leave me alone for good.” he huffs in your face.

“sure but what do i get when i win?” you smirk.

logan ignores your question and growls, “ladies first.”

it's dead silent as you bend over the pool table to line your stick up to the diamond. logan's far too busy staring at the wet spot on your light blue panties. he never admit it, even if you knew for sure that's where his eyes were. it wasn't until he lost sight of the spot that he realized you already took your shot.

"your turn, old man." you tease, moving out of his way.

the two of you go back and forth for a bit but you were growing tired of this game. instead you decided to make things even more interesting.

"so when i win, are you going to finally fuck me?" your bluntness always left logan speechless.

"you already know the answer to that, sweetheart." he replies, trying to focus before shooting.

"sure, blah, blah, blah, something wife." you mock with an eye roll that almost made logan chuckle. "but seriously? when was the last time you two had sex? you probably got cobwebs in there."

that got a small smirk out of him. one that you count as a win.

"it's just a band. it comes off, see?" you lean over and take the ring off of his finger, placing it on the table.

logan stared at it for too long. feeling the distance of his commitments. you turn his head towards you with a light hook on his grey bearded chin. the lust in his eyes told you that you had won.

"you know what else comes off that easily?" you whisper, lips inches from his. "my panties."

a good man would've walked away. a good man would've returned home to his wife. but logan wasn't a good man. never had been and never would be.

an animalistic urge fell over him, grabbing you with the ease of a rag doll and bending you over the pool table. the wedding band was inches from your parted lips, moaning prettily as logan spread you open with his thumbs and licked a wide strip up your cunt, burying his face in your arousal and letting it coat his beard until he could only taste you.

"f-fuck me." logan groans, pulling back to catch his breath. "taste better than i imagined."

"knew you wanted me." you smirk, feeling his middle finger circle your entrance before pushing in. a loud moan is pulled from your throat as he hits that spongey spot with ease.

"weren't lying 'bout being tight." logan marvels, watching the way you suck in his finger.

he attempts to push in his ring finger as well and you wish you could've seen his face while he struggle to get it in. quickly, you reach for the wedding ring next to you then grab his hand from inside you. fumbling to get the ring back on him before he questions you.

"what are you—"

"go on." you coax, looking back at him with dark eyes. "try it now."

logan shouldn't have been so turned on from the image of his wedding ring coated in your slick; but here he was watching it disappear and reappear inside of you.

"right—fuck! r-right there..." you pant, arching farther back to meet his thrusts.

"does it turn you on being a homewreaker?" logan asks, back up on his feet and nibbling at your ear. "knowing that you have a old married man fucking you with his wedding band on?"

"mhm..." you mumble against the table. he takes the opportunity to pick up his pace, feeling you clench down. "d-don't stop..."

within seconds, your gushing around his fingers and dripping down his hand. right when he pulled out of you, you turn around and push him back into one of the plush chairs to undo his belt. falling to your knees, you begin to stroke him, tracing his veins with your tongue and tapping the tip on it.

"always knew you had quite the mouth on ya', princess." he grunts with a fist full of your hair.

you smile, taking him all the way until his tip hit the back of your throat and the hairs at his base tickled your nose. logan was finding it harder and harder to control his animalistic urge while your gagging and drooling all over his lap. quickly, you release him with a pop and stand up to straddle him, lining him up to your entrance and sinking down slowly.

"shit, you're so fucking tight." he says, gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises.

"only for you, logan." you whine, grinding down on him, rocking back and forth.

roughly, logan pulls the rest of your dress off of you, throwing it on the floor somewhere behind you. large hands touching you all over in ways you've only dreamt of. meanwhile, your attacking his neck like a madwoman. biting and marking him up like he's yours.

desperately, logan fucks up into you, needing more. his tip nudges that sweet spot within you, making you moan loudly in his ear, encouraging him to go faster. so focused on the squealing of your soaked pussy. he captures your lips, kissing you tenderly. you can feel his high approaching, twitching inside of you, and you needed to do one last thing before it hit him.

carefully you pull away, gripping his chin and pulling him face to face with you. his eyes are blown out with desire as he stares at you.

"tell me your mine, lo." you whisper against his lips.

logan can feel you clench tightly around him, waiting for him to give into you completely. he presses his thumb down on your button, moving in fast circles to get you there with him.

"f-fuck, i'm yours, baby." he moans, coating your walls with spurts of his release. "i'm yours."

"t-that's right." you moan, kissing him roughly as your high washes over you.

"you look so pretty like this." he coos, watching the pleasure run over you.

for a moment the two of you sit still, trying to catch your breath. logan's mind races, not meaning to cum inside of you but it's far too late now.

"lets keep this a secret between the two of us, huh?" he says while you play with his hand, mischievously. before he can notice, you pocket the ring.

"sure thing, baby." you reply. "i'll gladly be your little secret but have fun explaining those marks to the old ball and chain."

logan looks down at you and that wicked smile of yours, only to realize just how fucked he is.

[noctiva]

Sweet Thing [PT. 1]

Toby Rogers x f!reader (NSFW)

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WC: 10.2k

Summary: Church on Sundays, a quiet daily life on your family’s farm, and the chirp of crickets to lull you to sleep every night. You had a nice, simple life. That is, until you found yourself entangled with a miscreant from another state. You should’ve listened to mama.

CW: 18+ content, mentions of religion + religious imagery, questioning faith, descriptions of violence and gore, alluded sexism, americans written by a canadian lmaoaoao, female masturbation, manipulation, sort of toxic relationship, loss of innocence, loss of virginity, explicit sexual content, corruption, salirophilia, unsafe sex, semi-public sex, dirty talk, oral sex (male + female receiving), first time blowjobs, pretty plot heavy - you gotta suffer a bit before Toby makes an appearance, but once he doesss, LORD

Part 2 (link will be added once it’s up)

Reminder to separate reality from fiction! Some of the acts written here are definitely not recommended to imitate. Be safe!

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NSFW under the cut! Minors do not interact!

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“Did ya’ see? The old fence out front got knocked down again.”

Sat at your family’s wooden kitchen table, you push around the scrambled eggs on your plate absentmindedly. It’s a morning like any other. The sun just barely peeking over the horizon, illuminating the dew drops on the crops outside. A crisp chill in the air before the sun warms up the sky.

Your father sits in front of you at the head of the table, dressed and ready for the day like he always was - complete with his suspenders and hat, dirtied blue jeans stuffed into his work boots. Your mother sat next to him, looking lovely - as expected. You sometimes wonder how early she truly woke up, with the way her hair was always perfectly curled and her makeup was spotless before the day had even started.

Your brother sat next to you. Jameson, or ‘Jamesy’ as everyone called him - your family’s crown jewel. He was strong, capable, and smart enough that he really could’ve done something with himself if he really wanted to, but he didn’t. He chose to stay here, much fonder of the smell of dirt and manure than that of gasoline and city smog.

It wasn’t much, but it was comfortable. Easy. For you, at least. Your father and Jameson tended to most of the farm work - harvesting and replanting crops, milking the cows and slaughtering the pigs. All you had to do was collect the eggs from the chicken coop in the mornings. And all your mother had to do was homemake and look pretty (which, truthfully, was probably a lot more difficult than you were giving her credit for).

It was all you had ever known, ever since you were a little girl, but you were content with that. You doubted it got much better than this anyway. Even if it did, the cost was probably far too great.

“Again?” Your mother frowned, polished pink nails clinking against her coffee mug as she raised it to her lips. “That’s the third time this month, ain’t it?”

“You bet.” Your father huffed back to her, lips twitched down into a scowl you had learned to look past. Downturned lips under a bushy greying moustache, you couldn’t reminder the last time his face had changed. Maybe it was stuck that way. “I’m gettin’ damn tired of fixing it.”

You watch as he stabs a few pieces of fresh made sausage onto his fork, before shovelling them into his mouth.

“I fixed the fence last time, Pops.” Jameson pipes up as he leans back in his chair, the old wood creaking under his weight. He crosses his arms over his chest, the navy blue flannel he was wearing rolled up to his elbows.

It was such a run of the mill, mundane conversation, that you were barely even paying attention. The words were more so floating around your ears than actually entering them - the food in front of you going cold the longer you pushed it around. You could name countless other days that has started just the same as this one.

That didn’t mean it was bad, just… Growing stale. After nineteen years on this same old plot of land, everything was. Jameson had his driver’s license and ventured out often, spending nights god knows where only to return with a stupid grin and a flush on his cheeks. You… Well, you didn’t go anywhere. The farthest you wandered was to the old willow tree just outside of your family’s property. Any further, and you’d get an earful from your father.

Which was strange, because you were the eldest, but you suppose that’s just the way life is. Maybe one day you’ll turn out just like your mother - continuing to never wander far, dedicating your time and energy to make some regular farm boy happy. That’s probably the plan.

“Yeah, because I just said - I’m damn tired of fixin’ it!” Your father drops his fork back onto the table with a clink. His plate was clean. Just like your mother’s. Just like Jameson’s. Unlike yours. “I didn’t spend two weeks breaking my back putting that thing up just for it to be knocked down every fuckin’ Tuesday.”

“Language.” Your mother chastises in a soft hiss, shooting your father a narrow look out of the corner of her eye. The pearls hung around her neck showed their lustre the best in the morning sun, as did the absolute rock placed in the centre of her wedding ring. With her fingers clasped around her mug, she lets out a sigh before continuing. “I reckon it’s that new family that moved in at the end of the road. You know, the Rogers?”

Finally, your interest is piqued, and you look up from your plate to gaze curiously at your mother as she rambles on. “None of these things were happening before that lot showed up, and I heard their boy is a real piece of work. They only moved out here to try and keep him outta trouble.”

“Yeah? Where’d you hear that?” Your father asks, voicing the question you had been silently wondering yourself. You watch with interest as your mother takes a sip of her coffee before answering - steam billowing up from the mug.

“Word gets around. Saw Darleen when I was runnin’ errands at the market.” She hums softly. “They moved in right across the street from her and Tommy.” She sets her mug down before standing up and pushing her chair in. She picks up her plate, then your father’s, then Jameson’s. When she reaches yours she eyes it quizzically, obviously taken aback by how little you’ve actually eaten. “You’re not done, are you darlin’? You’ve barely made a dent.”

Your eyes widen a little as they lift to meet hers, before you sheepishly brush a few strands of hair off of your shoulders.

“Oh, I’m just not hungry today, mama.” You answer back softly, giving her a little smile. “Woke up on the wrong side of the bed I suppose.”

She raises a perfectly plucked eyebrow at you, studying your face for a few moments. Probably to try and determine whether or not you were lying. You weren’t. You knew better than to try and slip a lie past her.

“Alright.” She breathes out, before collecting your plate as well. “But you’re not skipping supper. Can’t have you going all frail on us.”

You watch as she carries the plates towards to kitchen sink, setting the three empty ones on the counter before scraping yours into the compost under the sink. You can’t help but feel just a little bad about it, knowing that she had been the one to get up early and cook it - only to end up shovelling it into the waste bin. “Anyway, as I was sayin’-“ She however, doesn’t seem phased. But then again, she never did. “The Rogers, they’ve been all over the place because of that boy of theirs. Darlene says he’s got a whole shopping list of medical problems, so they’ve been flying state to state ever since he was a baby to try and get him patched up.”

The faucet squeaks as she turns it, warm water gushing out and starting to fill the sink. Then she turns, grabbing her apron off of a coat hook next to the fridge before fastening it on. “Don’t know what he’s got, but it doesn’t really matter. Apparently he’s been a bad apple ever since he hit puberty. Lyin’, stealin’, the whole lot. Lived in Colarado for a little before he stole a cop car. Paid his bail and moved him out here.”

“You sure love your gossip, don’t you, ma’?” Jameson snorts, shooting you a look out of the corner of his eye that has you letting out a soft giggle.

“It’s not gossip, Jamesy.” You mother sighs. She picks up his plate, and rinses it under the warm water. “It’s talk. Everyone talks around here. What else is there to do to pass the time?” The same thing is done to the other three plates before she’s pouring soap onto a sponge. “Besides, it’s good to talk. Keeps you aware.”

“Aware of what?” You ask, your eyes following her hands as she scrubs grime from the dishes. Just like she had done every day since you could form a memory. Your father’s calloused hands had never even touched a dish in his life. You didn’t even have to ask to be sure of that fact. Which, again, was just the way things were.

“Of what’s going on around us.” She hums softly, not sparing you a glance as she worked. “Of the people you don’t wanna mix with.”

“Well how can you know you don’t like them if you’ve never even met ‘em?” You question again. Where this boldness had come from, you weren’t entirely sure, but questions just kept bubbling up in your mind like popped corn. You suppose you should just keep all these thoughts to yourself, but then where was the fun in that? You needed something to keep your mind lively, even if it was just a hoard of ‘what if’s’ and ‘what could be’s’

This tidbit about some family of strangers was the most excitement you had gotten in weeks.

Your mother’s hands still, and then she’s pausing at the sink to look at you. And that’s all it takes, one look to know you’ve taken a step too far.

“I know enough.” She answers back to you, with a tone of finality in her voice that immediately shifts the atmosphere in the room. You can feel it, and so could your brother, if the way his shoulders tensed up was anything to tell by. “I know enough to know that I don’t want the likes of them hangin’ anywhere around here. Anywhere around you, specifically.”

“Me?” You ask, still pressing through you know it’s a dangerous route. Her warning though, just had your imagination running even more rampant. “Why just me? Jamesy’s the one always goin’ out at night. For all you know he’s probably already met the kid.”

“Have not.” Jameson snaps back immediately. He turns his head and deals you a warning glare, probably a suggestion to not throw him under the bus again. “Rogers is weird. You’d never catch me hanging around him.”

Oh?

“That right?” You push, narrowing your eyes right back at him. The calm morning vibe had long since diminished, leaving plenty of room for something much more volatile. “And how would you know if you’ve never met him?”

You watch as Jameson’s eyes widen a little, his fingers twitching into fists once he’s realized his fatal slip up. Got him, you think, as your lips stretch up into a sly smile. Somehow, the look in his eyes only grows colder, before he’s looking away from you with a scoff.

“Alright, damn, I’ve met him before.” He confesses with a huff. “But don’t worry ma’, I don’t pass the time with him. He’s…” He pauses for a moment, struggling to come up with the right word. “Freaky.” He settles on. “The typa guy that your gut just tells you to stay far away from.”

Your mother hums in satisfaction at the answer, resuming her previous actions as she rinses off soap in the sink. “He’s a gnarly lookin’ fellow too. Face all scarred up, practically torn to shreds on the left half of it.” He turns to look at you again, and then raises finger to point square at your face. “Bad news.” He snaps. “That whole damn family. Ma’s right, and you should listen to her. You’ve got no business bein’ around him. I can’t think of a single intention he could have that would be good.”

“Alright, Jamesy, gosh.” You finally concede, crossing your arms over your chest. Unable to conceal the frown twitching at your lips. “I wasn’t gonna, anyway. Was just curious.”

“Like hell you were ‘just curious’.” He snorts, giving you one last warning glance before standing up. “Curiosity turns into ideas, and ideas turn into actions.” He pushes his chair in. “Ain’t that right, pa’?”

“Right on the money.” Your father hums. He looks to you, meets your eye, and you know right then that this little fight is over. You could argue with your mom, and you could bicker with Jameson - but you knew better than to fight with your dad. So you zip your lips, give him a curt little nod of understanding, and the matter is dealt with.

The curiosity, however, lingers.

Breakfast is finished with, and after helping your mother wring out the fresh washed clothes, you pin them up to dry outside. The sun has finally made its full appearance, painting the whole world gold and blessing your skin with its warmth.

A soft, cream coloured maxi dress hangs off of your body - lacy, flowing, complete with bell sleeves. It was the type of thing that showed off the fact that it wasn’t you who got your hands dirty. Your hands were soft and nimble as they pulled your hair up and off of your neck, pinning it in place with a claw clip. You pull a few strands out to frame your face, before turning to look at your mother. She was just finishing hanging up the last few articles of clothing, dressed in something rather similar to you - though hers boasted a robin’s egg blue tone.

“You look lovely today, mama.” You tell her as you take a few steps towards her, bare feet pressing into the soft blades of grass below you. She looks up to meet your gaze, and you smile to yourself when you catch the way her eyes softened. She always looked so much younger when she smiled. It was like a glimpse at the young girl she used to be - the one who giggled softly and blushed at compliments.

“Thank you, darlin’.” She hums, lips curved upwards minutely. Once the last garment is hung, she wipes her damp hands against the front of her dress. “Why’re you kissing up? Trying to make me forget about the stunt you pulled at breakfast?”

Well, yes, but you didn’t think you were that obvious.

“I didn’t pull a stunt.” You laugh softly, clasping your hands behind your back. A soft breeze blows by you both, tousling the hair you had just made presentable. “I really just wasn’t hungry. Promise.”

“Oh, that’s not what I’m talking about.” She places a hand on her hip and cocks her head to the side. She had this way of peering into your very soul when she looked at you. A result of being born from her very flesh, maybe. Or perhaps you were just too much like her. “Got Pa’ and Jamesy all riled up. A woman’s got to realize when to bite her tongue sometimes, you know.”

“I was just askin’ questions.” You huff, lips tugging into a pout as you gaze up at her. “It’s not often someone new comes around here, can you blame me for wanting to know more?”

It’s silent for a moment as she studies you, her eyes narrowing minutely.

You can see it in her eyes as a million different thoughts pass through her mind, before she’s letting out a huff and settling on one. Closer, she approaches, until she’s standing right before you. Then, she reaches a hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear gently. Her fingers are soft, yet so cold.

“Listen to me, okay?” She breathes out. You can tell that she’s trying to keep her expression neutral, but you can still see it when a crease begins to form between her brows. “I know you’re at the age where you’re startin’ to want things, growing up into a woman right before my eyes.” She pinches your cheek gently and lets out a little sigh. “But you’re still my little girl. I’ll be damned to hell if I let you run off with some miscreant.”

“I wouldn’t, mama.” You frown, eyebrows scrunching up at her words. Despite that, you reach up to touch her hand softly with your own. “I just wanted to know more about him. I don’t have many friends around these parts, you know.”

“I know, baby, and I’m sorry for that.” Mirroring your own expression, her lips twitch downwards. “But you don’t need to be friends with someone like him. You’re a sweet thing. You need someone who matches that.”

She pulls away and purses her lips, before crossing her arms over her chest. “If you don’t believe me, trust Jameson. He’s met the boy.” Somehow, neither warning is swaying you. You weren’t one for rumours. Would much rather see the horror for yourself and be the judge of it, than just blindly abide to hearsay. For all you knew, he might just be a little off kilter, but a notch too far for your tight knit community to accept.

Maybe, he was just as lonely as you were. Maybe, he also just needed a friend. “We all just want what’s best for you, okay?” Your mother continues when she notices you’ve gone silent - getting lost in a mind that she just knew was growing more and more dangerous with each passing moment. “You need to listen, just this once. You’re a smart girl, act like it.”

Act like it. You’d sure as hell try.

By the afternoon, you’ve finished up lunch and were slipping on a pair of sandals by the back door with a wicker basket hanging from your arm. It was a lovely day outside - all blue skies and warm wind - so it was much favourable to the stuffy quarters of your family’s little homestead. Besides, you really felt like you needed a little time alone after being hounded for the greater half of the morning.

“Where are you goin’?” Your father asks, sat at the dining table with a newspaper in his hands. An ashtray sits in front of him, packed with ash with a smouldering smoke rested precariously on the edge.

“Found a patch of lemongrass out by the willow.” You hum back to him, offering a smile once you’ve fastened your shoes and stood up straight. “Last time I was there it was just shy of being long enough to pick. I think I’ll be able to grab some today.”

“That so?” He reaches forward and picks up his abandoned cigarette, slotting it between his teeth before settling back into his chair again. His calloused fingers rub against the thin paper in his hands as he turns to the next page. “Ma’ would probably like that for the roast shes cookin’ up tonight.” His gaze floats over to you once more and he lets out a soft huff. “Don’t dirty your dress again. Got an earful from ‘er last time she had to scrub grass stains from the knees.”

“I won’t.” You laugh sheepishly, but it’s a half-baked lie. You never try to, but somehow you always find yourself coming home with dirt on the hems and moss caked into your knees. You had an affinity for lying beneath the old willow, sinking into the soft patch of grass below whilst sun shone down on you through the gaps in the branches. Nature wasn’t as gentle as you were though, and always left you sullied by the time you walked back through your front door.

But that was alright. You’d just have to do your own laundry next time. Surely that would make up for it.

The sun heats your skin once you step through the door and skip down the steps of the back porch. The gentle sound of wind chimes meets your ears, a soft melody that brings a smile to your face even as you drift further away from the source. The wind carries you as you pad through the soft grass that made up most of your backyard, bordered with a slew of different crops.

Tomatoes, peppers, sweet peas - basically every vegetable your mother wanted constant free access to. Your favourites, were the potatoes- a variety spanning from golden russets to deep purple yams. It was simply the most fun, on the rare occasion that you’d convince your father to let you slip into a pair of Jameson’s old overalls and pluck each nugget from the ground with your bare hands. Dirt under your fingernails, mud on your elbows, sinking your hands into the earth that kept you fed and provided for.

You make a mental note to try and get him to let you next time. You pass the vegetable crops and venture out further, through the plowed land that served as a home for your father’s pride and joy - his corn field. Spanning acres, what felt like miles and miles of husks waiting to be peeled, the scent so fresh and sweet as you trudged through it. If there was an easier route to get where you needed to be, you didn’t care. Wading through the leaves and stems was a simple pleasure you wouldn’t deny yourself. It tickled as they brushed against your bare skin, stray hairs from the cobs catching in your hair and being carried away by you.

It’s a trek for sure, but it was the length of the journey that calmed your mind. The distance from your home that freed you, at least for now.

By the time you get to the willow tree your shows are caked with dirt, and the bottom hem of your dress is dusted brown from the earth it dragged against. Predictable. You have to hop the small fence that serves as the boundary line for your property, and once your feet land on the other side your heart feels lighter.

You had just barely left home, and yet you felt so far away. It was a euphoric feeling, to be all on your own.

Walking closer, you drop your basket on the ground before sinking into a crouch then flopping onto your back. You hadn’t lied to your father, there was a patch of lemongrass close by that was probably ready for picking, but that was your secondary motive in all honesty. The primary motive, was this. Lying beneath the willow with weeds in your hair, moss staining your dress, dirt sinking into your stockings when you slip your sandals off.

The breeze is warm, and the air is warmer. When you close your eyes and stretch your arms above your head, you feel like a cat stretching out in a spot of sunlight - relaxed, content. Free. You could spend hours like this, and you have before. Lying here until the sun went down and sent a chill through your bones. Sinking into the earth, letting it claim your body as its own for a few hours.

Whenever you die, you wish to be buried here. To have the roots of this tree wrap your corpse in an everlasting embrace. Keeping you close. Winding into your ribs and filling the space where your heart once was. It had been there when others hadn’t. It had watched you grow up, and absorbed your tears into its bark. You were one. A piece of you wound into each ring in its trunk.

You stretch your limbs, then bringing a leg up to bend at the knee. Your dress rises dangerously high, lace against your thigh. Exposing skin never seen, to air that would never speak of it. You bring your hands up to your face, cheeks rosy from the sun, and you hold them there. You can feel how warm you’ve become. How the sun has blanketed you in its heat, providing you with the comfort you so deeply craved.

It was times like these, that you felt guilty for calling yourself lonely. You had the sun, and the earth, and the willow that stood sturdy no matter what storm ripped past. You had all these constants, and they should be enough.

But they’re not. Not even close.

You want the warmth of hands. Hands, that loved you and held you close. Hands, that brushed upon places you had never shown another, imbuing you with a heat you couldn’t produce yourself. You wanted breath that brushed against you softer than the breeze did, causing goosebumps to rise despite the temperate nature of it.

You wanted arms to snake around you like these roots would when you were long gone. Curling around your body, constrictive yet grounding. Tight enough to make your breath shallow.

You wanted a man.

A real one. One who knew what you wanted, and abided to it. One who would kiss the souls of your feet, just to make sure every step of yours was blessed by his protection.

You wanted to feel, taste, love someone who held you just as dear.

But it was slim pickings, in a place like this.

You reach into your cleavage, fingers clasping the warmed metal of the crucifix that rested there. You knew it was sin, but was it not also human nature? Were we not born to crave one another? How else would this species live on?

How could one live, without the embrace of another? How could one die, never experiencing it? You wondered sometimes if you would. If you’d take after Mary, and leave this earth as a virgin unsullied.

Your pastor would probably say that was a blessing of the highest honour. You would call it punishment.

You needed it. Craved it like a starving dog craved a bone to slobber on. You could only imagine how it would really feel, but you were sure that your mind didn’t come close to reality. You didn’t have enough information to accurately picture how calloused palms may feel against your soft skin, or how blunt teeth may feel as they bite into your neck.

The crucifix feels hot in your palm, almost like it knows it’s in the grip of a sinner. But you just hold it tighter, like strengthening your grasp may make up for your lack in faith.

Forgive me, Father, for I am just a woman. Your other knee comes up, bumping into the one next to it. Your hair splays beneath you, like a halo surrounding this fallen angel. Is it truly so wrong, to want to be loved in the highest form?

You feel the breeze hit the backs of your thighs, exposed with your legs drawn close. You wonder if the soft tickle is similar to how it would feel if it were someone’s fingertips instead. Your thighs twitch just from the thought.

Would they touch you like you were something holy? Would they whisper your name in your ear like you were gospel? Would they take you apart, just to remake you in their image?

Would they love you? Truly?

Could you find love in a place like this?

You aren’t even thinking as the cross slips from your fingers, in favour of trailing your fingers against the exposed neckline of your dress. Across your collarbones, yours fingers sweeping over the swell of your chest. With eyes closed, you sink into it, grass in your hair as the pads of your fingers skirt against your warming body.

You were a woman, but were you? Were you not just still a girl, blind to the pleasures hidden from you? You could touch yourself all you wanted, but would it ever be the same?

You wouldn’t know until you felt it for yourself.

You rest your palm on your stomach, right over your womb, curling your fingers gently into the soft material of your dress. You wouldn’t dare venture lower - not with the cross hanging around your neck. You would press your thighs together though, as if it were less of a sin if your hands left the ordeal unstained. You press them together tight, shifting, trying to generate any form of stimulation to placate you.

It works, a little. Enough to send tingles up your thighs. Enough to make your stomach flip. It was just shy of pleasure, so it couldn’t truly be wrong, right?

You shift again, rubbing your thighs together more as your fingers grip the fabric between them tighter. You can feel it. The heat, just barely brewing. So close, but just out of reach. You could have it, if you just slipped your hand down lower.

No one was watching. No one would know.

God would. But would he turn a blind eye, just this once?

You had always, always been good. Would one sin damn you? If so, where was the fairness in that from a god supposedly so compassionate?

If you repented, would it all be erased?

Even if you didn’t, what was the difference? You knew it was wrong either way.

(Or did you?)

You’re just taking the bait, slowly sliding your hand down lower, lower - towards the hem of your dress. Towards a place that was simply a gateway to hell if you laid your fingers on it. You were just about to give it all up, succumb to your desires and worry about repentance later. But then-

“A-Ah, shit. I didn’t expect to see anyone a-around here.”

Your entire body jolts, eyes flying open and being temporarily blinded by the sun. Before you even look at who’s just spoken to you, you’re sitting up and tugging your dress back down to your ankles. It didn’t matter who it was, that voice was a man’s. Low, gravelly. Soft, and wracked with stutters, but a man nonetheless.

A man who had just undoubtedly seen you, mere seconds away from indulging in your wicked desires.

Once you’re completely sure that any bare skin is far out of sight, you finally look up, and immediately your eyes widen.

It’s a man alright, just five feet away (give or take). He stands tall, or maybe it’s just an illusion because you’re still sat on the grass. Brown hair, fluffy and unruly - visibly knotted even from the distance between you. Honey brown eyes, freckles spotting the bridge of his nose and trickling down his cheeks. A bandage on the left side of his face, placed right next to the side of his mouth.

You’re speechless. Speechless as you look up at him. Speechless as he takes a hesitant step forwards. Cautious. Restrained. Like a person approaching a scared animal. Maybe that’s exactly what you were.

Baggy jeans hang off of his hips, ripped at the knees and visibly well worn. A slate grey shirt hugs his torso, covered mostly by the dark brown flannel shrugged over top of it. A black baseball cap completes the look.

The look of trouble. You can sense it before you even open your mouth. Or, it could be that you were just being presumptuous, considering that this was the first man who had spoken to you (besides your father, Jameson, and your preacher) in years.

“I didn’t expect to see anyone here.” You murmur back once you’ve found your voice, sitting up more as you eye him curiously. You just can’t tear your eyes away from him. Away from everything that makes him so much different than you. The wrinkles in his clothes, the stubble on his jaw. The way he carried himself - shoulders square with his hands tucked into his pockets. “This is my tree.”

“Your t-tree?” The man laughs and raises an eyebrow, taking another step forwards that has your entire body tensing up. Not that close in the grand scheme of things, but far too close for your comfort. “I didn’t know people c-could c-claim trees around here.” He tilts his head to the side. “B-Besides, isn’t this unclaimed land?”

“Technically.” You narrow your eyes up at him, trying to gauge his intentions. He looked harmless, but was he? Was anyone? “But I’ve been coming to this tree for years and never had another soul wander close.” You cross your arms over your chest. “Therefore, it’s mine.”

“Y-Yeah?” The man shifts from one foot to the other, and you’ve noticed that he’s rather fidgety. Shifting, twitching, like something inside him was trying to burst free from his body. “I-I’ve been coming here too though, and I-I’ve never seen you.”

“You have not.” You argue back immediately.

“I ha-have too.” He laughs softly, eyes warming at your immediate defiance. It was cute, how something that looked so sweet seemed to have so much bite. “C-Come here all the time when home gets buh-boring. Have since I m-moved in.” You watch curiously as his shoulders jolt, a strange sudden motion that had you raising an eyebrow.

“No you haven’t.” You press as you cross your arms over your chest. You’ve never seen this man, not even once. You knew that it wasn’t possible for you to keep an eye on this place all the time, but the chances of never running into him? Slim. Incredibly slim. For all you knew, this was all just a ploy to gain your trust. “I’ve never seen you ‘round here. I’d know it if I did.”

“Oh, s-so you’re here 24/7 then?” He snorts, rolling his eyes minutely. He takes another step closer, then another, so quickly encroaching on your bubble of personal space. “Or, w-what? You g-got cameras set up?” He makes a show at looking upwards and peering through the leaves, sarcastically scanning the area. You narrow your eyes.

Before you can say anything else, he’s already crouching down before sitting against the grass next to you. Still with a few feet in between, but the action makes your eyes widen nonetheless. You can observe him so much better now. How his eyes looked so dark until the sun hit them, and suddenly they were transfiguring from molasses to pools of honey. The slash in his eyebrow, a scar that left a permanent gap between the hairs. His eyelashes, quite long for a man you thought, fluttering against his cheek every time he blinked.

He smelled like pine and tobacco. It wafted over to you, like a beckoning call to get closer. You wouldn’t. “Can’t we share?” He asks you, leaning back on his palms and turning his head to the side to meet your gaze. You avert your eyes immediately. “I th-think you’re being selfish, keeping something so nice all t-to yourself.”

“And I think you’re being entitled.” You mutter back to him, lips twitched down into a frown.

You watch as he lets out a snort of laughter, a sound that caused his expression to crinkle. Little creases appearing at the corners or his eyes and the bridge or his nose.

“M-Maybe I am.” He shrugs. He tilts his head back, fluffy brown strands of hair falling into his eyes as he looks up through the leaves to the blue sky above. “Or, maybe I just want some c-company. It’s lonely around he-here.”

And for the first time during the conversation, you feel like you can’t argue. Because he was right. It was lonely around here. Agonizingly so. Bringing forth the type of loneliness that sunk into your bones like rot, festering more and more each day. Until one day, the sun rose, and you were completely infected. Numb to the melancholy around you.

That day hadn’t come upon you yet, but you feared you were close. “Y-You got a name?” He asks when your response is mere silence, and your eyes flicker up to meet his.

You know you shouldn’t tell him. Names… They held a lot of power. Transformed strangers into acquaintances. Opened a door that couldn’t easily be shut. If you told him, you couldn’t so easily brush him off if you ever saw him again.

Your name was a snippet of who you were. Something not to be taken lightly.

And yet, you find yourself uttering it out anyways. Soft, carried away by the breeze around you - but he hears it. He hears it clear as day.

“Puh-Pretty.” He hums back to you, lips twitched up at the corners in a way that made your heart flutter. A feeling so foreign to you, that it immediately elicited panic in your mind. “Suits you. Y-You’re a pretty thing.” Again, your heart skips a beat. Were you dying? Your pulse has skyrocketed and was doing flips in your chest. Surely, you must be dying. Before you can attempt to get a word out in response, he’s speaking again. “I’m T-Toby.”

Toby. It’s a nice name, soft and boyish. You mill it over in your brain a few times, imagining how the syllables would taste on your tongue. The craving is too strong to stay silent.

“Toby.” You murmur back to him, testing out the sound as it leaves your mouth. You like it, you decide. “Is that short for somethin’?”

The man - Toby - raised an eyebrow at you and lets out a soft chuckle. It’s a nice sound, deep and smooth, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Very quickly, the distain you had felt for him when he first approached was fizzling away. Even if your mind was on edge, your body was so clearly craving the presence or another. Still a few feet between you, but now you were itching to minimize the space a little. Not enough to touch, of course not, just enough to… Observe him better. Your curiosity was, once again, getting the better of you.

But how could it not? The man beside you was a bundle of unanswered questions, just waiting to be dug into. This was just the excitement you had been looking for.

“I-If you must know…” Toby answers with a dramatic sigh, making your lips twitch as you try to contain a smile. You fail, and his grin only widens when he sees your lips curve. Got her. “It’s short for T-Tobias. Tobias Rogers.”

You can practically hear the glass break when the light atmosphere is shattered.

Rogers? Like… Rogers, Rogers?

The very same that your entire family had spent the greater half of the day warning you to stay far away from? The criminal? The ‘bad news’? The ‘freak’, as Jameson had so eloquently put it?

Toby sees it when your lips part in shock, and the colour slowly begins to drain from your face. Rosy cheeks swapped for a shell-shocked pale tone. It’s staggering, how quickly your mood flipped just from the mention of his name alone. He furrows his eyebrows, and tilts his head to the side a little. “D-Damn, is it that bad? We can just stick to T-Toby then.”

You swallow thickly and take a breath, your eyes locked on his face - practically impossible for you to tear away. He couldn’t be the same person, right? You were being presumptuous.

Jameson had described him as a ‘gnarly looking fellow’, and he didn’t look like that to you. There were a few little scars here and there on his face, but nothing enough to warrant such a grim description. Your eyes drift, catching on the bandaging covering a solid portion of the left half of his face. You wonder what lay beneath it. Was it ‘torn to shreds’ just as your brother had said?

“Why are you all bandaged up?” You blurt out, unable to contain yourself. You just had to know. You felt like you may burst or you didn’t.

You watch as Toby’s lips tug even further down, his eyes flashing with something you couldn’t quite describe. The closest match would probably be shame.

“Manners, much?” He mutters as he catches your eye. “That side of my f-face ain’t pretty. I’d rather k-keep it covered.” He pauses for just a moment. “Especially around s-someone like you.”

You hum softly in response, but you’re nowhere near satisfied by his answer. You needed proof. Proof that your luck truly was laughable, and that sheer coincidence was making a fool out of you. If it was true, and this was who you had been warned about, it’s almost funny how you didn’t even need to try and seek him out. He found you.

Was that fate? Was it God delivering him to you?

And if so, could he truly be that bad?

Unless-

Toby watches you, waiting for your next move as he reached up with his left hand to absentmindedly pick at his bandage. His hands were littered with scars too, the skin on his fingertips red and raw. Nails bitten to the bone. You wonder, against yourself, how they would feel against your skin. They looked so much different than your own soft, unmarred hands. Rough and worn. Battered to such an extent that left you wondering how they had become that way. Not even your father, a man who worked the farm day in and day out, had hands like that.

Would his touch be as rough as he looked? Or would he be gentle, so to preserve your fragility?

-Unless it was a test of faith.

“You can show me.” You speak back to him, pushing your hair over your shoulder as you lean to the side a little. Just barely bridging the distance between the two of you. Testing the waters. “Promise I won’t make fun of ya’.”

That earns a snort of a laugh out of Toby, before he’s shaking his head softly in disbelief.

“I’d sure hope n-not.” Toby chuckles, then pulling his hand back down in favour of leaning back against it once more. “Not today though, darlin’. You’re j-just starting to used t-t-fuck! -to me.” You watch curiously as his shoulders jerk, his head cracking to the side in a way that both looked and sounded painful. Of course, he catches onto your worried gaze pretty quickly. “S-Sorry.” His face crinkles up in embarrassment. “It’s, uh-“ His hand lifts up to wave around absently. “This thing I got. T-Tourette’s.”

And suddenly, you get it. You don’t think a place like this would take kindly to someone like him, regardless of what his true nature was. He was different. Different in a way that wouldn’t so easily be glossed over by people who had been set in their own ways for far too long. Barely any outsiders were accepted warmly into your close-knit community, and so one that was so clearly a contrasting force? Not a chance.

But you weren’t put off. Weren’t scared or disgusted like every other member of your community seemed to be. If anything it made you angry at them. For being so unforgiving, though forgiveness was the very thing they nodded along to when the pastor preached about it.

What hypocrites.

“S’Not a problem.” You wave him off, offering him a kind little smile. He deserved it, you think. Everyone deserved to be treated kindly, but him especially. You could just feel it in your bones, that compassion wasn’t something Toby was often dealt. He was probably far lonelier than you. You don’t suppose you can blame him, for trying to find a connection with someone else, though he had startled you at first. At the end of the day, that’s all you wanted as well. “Don’t gotta be sorry about it. ‘Specially if it’s something you can’t control.”

You shrug softly, then meet his gaze as a gust of wind sent your hair into a flurry.

And though you didn’t know it, that would be the exact moment when Toby fell for you.

You were… So kind. So kind, gentle, and sweet. And so pretty too. The way the sunlight was hitting you right then made it look as if you were glowing - golden rays hitting your unblemished skin like the sun was created simply to shine a spotlight on you. You looked like an angel. Maybe you were. With your sparkling eyes, fluttering lashes, and flowing white fabric draped over your body, the only thing you were missing was a pair of wings.

His fingers curl into the grass beneath him, accidentally ripping out a few blades in his grip as he tries to reign in his thoughts. How could someone so lovely live in this place? Riddled with bigotry and sour expressions. How had they not tainted you? And did he even deserve to be in the presence of your purity?

Probably not. He met your eyes again, so warm and inviting. Definitely not.

“Y-You’re a sweet thing.” He mutters softly, tilting his head to the side a little. “Has anyone ever t-told you that?”

“My mama, sometimes.” You giggle, now fully scooting closer though you can so clearly hear the words your mother had spoken to you just this morning. ‘You’re a sweet thing. You need somebody who matches that.’ Grass smears against your dress as you shuffle towards him, leaving lime green stains against cream fabric. Sorry mama, for more reasons than one. “Y’know, she warned me about you.”

Toby’s breath hitches in his throat as he watches you approach him, finally eliminating the space he had created to be courteous. He could smell you now - fresh linen and lavender - and he could pick out all of the tiny features on your face that made you… You. He could see each little flyaway strand of hair that went into a frenzy whenever the breeze hit you. He could imagine the warmth of your skin when his eyes fixated on the rosiness to your cheeks.

He’s so caught up in how dizzyingly beautiful you are up close, that he nearly misses what you say completely. When the words do register though, his eyes are flicking back to meet yours as a frown tugs his lips downwards.

“W-Warned you?” He raises an eyebrow. “‘Bout what? I didn’t d-do nothin’.”

“Didn’t you?” You giggle softly and narrow your eyes at him playfully. Even if he was trouble, it was so fun to talk to somebody that wasn’t directly a part of the circle you had grown accustomed to. It was exciting. So many unknowns that it made your blood simmer with the need to dig in deeper. “It’s a small town y’know, people talk.” You pull your knees up to your chest and rest your forearms on them as you gaze up at him. “Locals are sayin’ you’re a criminal. And my daddy’s convinced you’re the one who keeps knockin’ down our fence.”

You nod your head in the direction of your property, to which Toby’s gaze follows. Immediately, his expression morphs into one of sheepish realization.

“Hmm… Y-Yeah, that might’ve been me.” He laughs softly, a cocky little smile playing at his lips. “Tell your ‘daddy’ he built his f-fence too close to the- the road. Pretty easy to lose control on g-gravel streets.”

You snort out a laugh and roll your eyes. You’d probably spit in your father’s face before ever criticizing one of his creations. Still though, the thought is funny to you.

“So it was you.” You grin up at him. “Are the rest of the rumours true then? Did ya’ really steal a patrol car?”

His eyebrows shoot up immediately, a look of bewildered amusement coating his expression.

“Christ, country folk are s-scary. How’d you know th-th-“ He draws out that first syllable for a couple seconds, like the word is hard for him to form. After a couple tries, he gets it. “-that?”

“I told you, people talk.” You laugh softly as you lean back on your hands. Your shoulder brushes against his just minutely, but it’s enough contact to raise goosebumps on your arms. “So is it true?”

Toby scoffs softly, before glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. You’re so close now. Welcoming him into your personal bubble so easily, looking up at him with those sweet doe-like eyes. For just a split second, his eyes flicker downwards towards your cleavage - smushed together from the way you were sitting leaned towards him, presented so beautifully in that silken white fabric.

He just knew that you had to be so soft. Could already imagine what your breasts would feel like against his palms - cushy warm flesh, yielding to his hands. He could only dream of what you would sound like it as he did it too. With a voice so soft and lovely, you’d probably sound like heaven itself as you breathed out little whimpers and moans.

He bet that you’d be shy about it. Refusing to meet his eye, flushed pink and pretty as you tug at your bottom lip to try and keep all of your noises at bay. But you wouldn’t stop him. No… You probably look up at him with both desperation and embarrassment clouding your eyes, before you hesitantly tugged him in closer.

Maybe he’d make you beg for it, just to see you squirm. Just to see your eyes shine with tears of humiliation.

He could imagine how your thighs would quiver when he gently pushed them apart. How you’d gasp when he touched you for the first time. How pretty your skin would look, with splotchy red marks and indentations from his teeth.

He could imagine ruining you. Tearing off your wings with his bare hands.

You were a sinful temptation, and you didn’t even know it. Looking up at him like he was the perfect picture of a good man. He wasn’t.

He was rotten. Had been since birth, most likely, because he couldn’t remember a day in his life where misfortune didn’t follow him. He was careless, impulsive, brash, and short-tempered. He would taint you the second you touched, infecting you with the decay hollowing out his bones.

He wanted to do it anyway.

“A-And if I did?” He asks with a sly smile, leaning into you with full intentions - just to see how you’d react. He’s delighted when you don’t move away, but he does feel how you instinctively tense up at the pressure of his shoulder pressing against yours. So timid. Had you ever been touched? “Would it ss-scare you off?”

You can feel his warmth through your clothing. The contact point where his shoulder meets yours being so warm in comparison to the rest of you. His bicep presses against yours when he shifts a little, and you can feel the lean muscle hidden under his flannel. What would it feel like to really touch him? To feel his muscles flex under your grip?

It’s barely anything. Just the slightest contact, but your head was already spinning. You don’t think you’ve ever been this close to a man, and your body was very clearly elated by the prospect. Hormones? Human nature? You weren’t sure what it was, but you were absolutely captivated by every little thing about him. You were trying to stay restrained, but these depraved thoughts just kept worming their way into your brain and speaking louder than the rest.

Would it scare you off? No, you knew that it would only entice you. You could feel it, how the idea of his misdeeds was only making him seem that much more desirable to you.

Trouble. Bad news. Then why did it seem so exciting? Why did he set your mind alight?

Maybe his natural charisma was a trap. A trap that you were so easily falling for, like a mouse too fixated on the prospect of cheese to see the danger.

“No.” You hum, tilting your head upwards to look at him better. He was very handsome. Sharp features but soft eyes. Shaggy, unruly hair, and yet it looked so silky. Stubble on his chin and along his jaw, framing his already captivating face. You were already in too deep. You could tell. “I’m not so easily scared. I’m not some delicate flower, y’know.”

Toby raises an eyebrow at you, clearly not convinced. And though he really was trying not to scare you off, the urge to push just a little bit further was getting harder to ignore. He could see it in your eyes, how receptive you were. Skittish, a little shy by nature, but clearly still wanting more. If you didn’t, then why hadn’t you moved away? Why were you the one to close the distance initially?

You were prodding at his personal space like a scared little kitten. Curious, but still on guard. Could he break down your walls a little? Would you let him get closer?

Toby lifts his hand up, his moments fluid and confident as he reaches down towards your face. Your eyes widen immediately, breath catching in your throat as his hand approaches you. Gently, like he’s scared to break you, his fingers brush the skin of your cheek before he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

Your cheeks heat up immediately, momentarily frozen in placeby the tender contact. It’s like he’s cast a spell on you, and only once his hand leaves you does it break. Still though, you’re left shell-shocked with shaky breathing as his touch retreats.

“Aren’t you?” Toby asks, leaning back on his hands once more. He can’t hide the smile on his lips as he observed you - so flustered by the smallest touch. You were definitely innocent. From that reaction alone, he’d be surprised if you’d ever been kissed before. Just like that, his mind started whirring with images or what if would be like to do so. Guiding you, slow and gentle. Showing you the ropes. “You sure l-look like one.”

You feel dizzy. Your skin tingling like he was setting you on fire with just his eyes alone. He was looking at you in a way that made your lungs feel tight. Amused, and yet tainted with something deeper. Something darker. Something you had never encountered before. Heady. Carnal.

You couldn’t quite tell if you were intimidated or enraptured.

All you knew, was that your heart had never beat quicker than now. “But… Yeah, I m-might’ve done that.” Toby continues, knowing you’re probably too ruffled to respond properly. “Among other th-things.”

Trying to regain your composure, you swallow thickly and take in a shaky breath. You didn’t want him to know just how easily he was sending your mind into a frenzy. Little did you know, he already did.

“Why?” You ask softly, eyeing him curiously. What did he want from you? What did that expression mean?

Toby hums softly, reaching up to scratch the stubble on his jaw before answering.

“For fun, I g-guess.” He breathes out, sending you a playful grin that made your stomach flip. “Mostly just t-to- to piss my dad off.” You watch his hand as it moves, your skin still tingling where it had touched you. You wonder if he’d do it again. “He moved me out h-here hoping it would calm me d-down, but it just made it all worse. It’s so boring out here, I’m more restless than- than ever.”

He tilts his head down, smiling down at you. “What do you do around here f-for fun?”

You’re a little caught off guard by that question, and it’s hard not to shrink under his gaze. If he really wanted to, it would barely take any effort to close the rest of the distance between you. That possibility, is enough to make you squirm.

“For fun?” You repeat back softly. “Um… Come here?” You laugh sheepishly and look up towards the leaves above you. An easy escape from his paralyzing gaze. “Water our crops.. Read, help my mom sew up old clothes.” You shrug. “Not much else.”

“Really?” Toby asks incredulously, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. That sounded like such an agonizingly boring life, it nearly made his skin crawl. “You don’t d-do anything else? G-Go anywhere?”

You shake your head, before looking to him once more.

“Nah. My daddy doesn’t like it if I wander off somewhere he couldn’t easily find me.” You shrug. “That fence right there is our property. This is as far as I go on my own. Mama takes me to the market sometimes though, and my whole family goes into town for church on Sunday.”

That just makes Toby’s frown deepen. It seemed to him like you were being kept on a leash, hidden away from every interesting thing that life had to offer. How were you not so incredibly restless? Had you lived your whole life this way? Confined within the fence posts of your family’s property.

“That’s… Not right.” Toby speaks back to you slowly. “There’s a whole world out there. D-Don’t you want to see it?”

“Well, of course.” You murmur softly, gaze dropping down to where your hands were folded on your lap. It was strange, having someone agree with what you believed were just troublesome thoughts. Thoughts that had been shot down since you were a child, never once indulged in or encouraged. “But it’s not what you think… They’re just trying to keep me safe.”

“I think it’s exactly w-what I think.” Toby argues back, his eyebrows furrowed. “They don’t want to keep you safe, they want t-to keep you- you- fuck! -contained. Controlled.” His words make your shoulders tense up. “You’re an adult, r-right? Why’re you letting them treat you like a kid?”

“I’m not.” You frown, to which Toby merely scoffs.

“You are.” He protests. “It’s your l-life, you know? Not theirs. Y-You should live it.” He leans his head down lower, practically caging you in as he encroaches on your personal space. “Or are you t-too scared?”

“I ain’t scared.” You snap back at him, eyes narrowing up at him.

“No?” He laughs, eyes crinkling in amusement. You were so cute, it made his chest feel tight. He could definitely understand the need to protect someone like you. God forbid you fall into the clutches of someone like him. “T-Tell you what,” He grins down at you. “If you’re really not scared, l-let me take you out tonight.” Your eyes widen, and you just look even cuter. “I’ll pick you up in my truck. D-Drive you around. Show you a bunch of places I think you’d l-like. How’s that sound?”

Scary. Perfect. Dangerous. Exhilarating.

Like a recipe for disaster.

“I… I dunno if that’s a good idea.” You mumble. “I’d have to sneak out. And… If my daddy saw you trying to take me away he’d probably shoot ya’.”

Toby barks out a laugh, tilting his head back and taking in a wheezing breath like you had just told him something hilarious - and not a threat against his life. A few more giggles slip past his lips before he’s able to contain himself, and he lets out an amused sigh before looking back to you.

“I’m sure h-he would.” He chuckles. “But I’ll take that risk.” His laugh is so warm and addictive, it’s hard for you not to break into a grin as well. “S-Sneak out after he’s sleepin’ then, if you’re so w-worried about me. And I’ll pick ya’ up here, just to be safe.”

He really didn’t quit, did he? His insistence was more charming than anything else though. The idea of him wanting to spend more time with you this badly, was something that made your heart skip a beat. “If he somehow still manages t-to catch you, and he d-does put a hole in my head, I’d still say it was worth it.”

You want to. You really want to. And how the hell are you supposed to stay rational when he’s staring down at you with the warmest brown eyes you’ve ever seen? You’re trying to fight it, but it’s futile. You know you’re going to say yes. It’s a golden opportunity. When’s the next time you’ll be offered freedom like this?

“Okay.” You find yourself muttering out, the wind whistling in your ears and rising goosebumps on your arms. Or was it because of him, and how his aura was so effortlessly subjugating? “Okay.” You repeat, louder this time, almost like you’re trying to convince yourself that you’re truly giving in.

But the smile that Toby gives you in response? It makes all of the apprehension dissipate. He smiles at you like you’ve just offered him the world. Eyes gleaming, expression wrinkling with elation.

“Yeah?” He grins, then nudging your shoulder lightly with his own. “I’ll show y-you a good time, p-promise. And I’ll get you home safe. N-No one will be the wiser.”

“You better.” You giggle. ““I’m taking a big risk for you, you know. Never done anything like this.”

He bet you hadn’t. Bet you wouldn’t know a good time if it stared you in the eye. He could teach you so much. Teach you everything, and more. And maybe, if you liked him enough, you’d let him keep you.

Maybe you’d let him get you out of here, show you what life’s all about, as if he knew. You could figure it out together.

“And for that I-I’m grateful.” He smiles, leaning into you a bit more. “I’ll pick you up a-at midnight, right here.” He was already practically buzzing with anticipation. “Y-You better not stand me up.”

“I won’t.” And you’re leaning right back into him, because it just feels right. Feels like something you need.

“Good.” Toby hums, feeling so satisfied with himself he almost feels guilty. Almost. It’s hard to really, when he’s got someone like you sinking into him so easily. He knew he couldn’t give you what you deserved, but he was sure he could give you something better than you were accustomed to.

That was enough, right?

You probably didn’t even know what a good man acted like. “Then I’ll see you a-at midnight. Wear somethin’ warm.”

You would, though you weren’t sure if you would even need it. Just being around him seemed to make your skin heat up.

Your brother was right, he definitely was trouble.

But maybe that was exactly what you needed.

—————————————————————————☆

getting part one up then working on asks!!

I’ve just really been wanting to get this one out here,, everyone say thank you to ethel cain for placing this idea in my mind!

part two is where all the goody goody will be, and I’m hoping to get it up by next week maybe?? Idk we’ll see

thank you for reading! and thank you to all of my new followers who have been so kind <3

[leclercstars]

save a horse.

dodge mason x reader

Summary: You're annoyed about getting paired with Dodge for a group project. He's quiet, cold, and you find nothing about him appealing (at least, that's what you're telling yourself.) Things start to take a turn when you end up having to work on the project in his bedroom, and suddenly, Dodge becomes the teacher.

Warnings: SMUT! 18+! protected sex, slight daddy kink, dom!dodge, nipple play

author's note: you all asked and you shall receive! god i love dodge mason (and you should too.)

“And you’ll be with Dodge Mason” the professor said when she got to your name on the class list. You thought you would be able to avoid group projects in community college, but apparently not. Dodge didn’t even shoot you a glance when the professor announced you as partners, so things were surely off to a great start.

He always sat in the very back, head low, kept to himself. He never raised his hand to answer a question or chime in on a discussion, and he always hurried out as soon as the professor dismissed class. You had seen him out at parties on occasion, chatting to one or two other guys in the corner. He looked good at parties, blue jeans and a tight t-shirt was a good uniform for him, especially when he added a cowboy hat. But his mysteriousness was unappealing, you found the whole “brooding cowboy” thing to be more cold and standoffish than sexy.

“Dodge! Dodge!” you chased him out of the classroom. You caught up with him and his expression hardly changed when he saw you. “What time should we meet to work on this?”

“8pm tonight sound fine?” he scrawled his address out on a piece of notebook paper and handed it to you.

“Sure! See ya then!” your cheeriness did not impact his mood, and you scoffed as you headed back to your car.

You did not find Dodge Mason appealing at all, but you found yourself standing in front of your mirror at 7:30 p.m. making sure that your outfit looked good. Your skirt was short, your shirt was tight. Why were you doing this? You kept trying to convince yourself you saw nothing in him, but your mind kept flashing back to the way his arms looked in those t-shirts that fit him so right. You threw on a hoodie so you at least seemed a little more casual.

He answered the door as soon as you knocked, and you walked in to quite a few folks in the dining room.

“Sorry, my sister has friends over. We’ll have to work in my room,” Dodge said as he led you down the hallway.

Why was your heart beating faster? You were just going in there to work, and it's only because you can’t go anywhere else.

His room was just as you expected it to be. Gray walls, navy bed sheets, decorated with rodeo trophies and a couple vintage cigarette ads.

“Neat room,” you said, even though it was boring as hell.

“Thanks.” he sat on one edge of the bed and you sat on the other, it felt like there was miles of distance between you- both physically and mentally at this point. Your legs were crossed tight, as you realized maybe wearing a skirt was not the best outfit choice for doing homework on a bed. The two of you got to work, talking about nothing except the work at hand. You were getting so bored, and your mind started to wander. His concentrated face was unfortunately very attractive, as he bit his lip looking down at the paper. His hands were huge, made evident by how small the pencil looked in them. His t-shirt was once again, tight. Hugging every muscle in his arm. You couldn’t stand it anymore. You took off your hoodie, revealing the crop-top you had on.

“Sorry, all this writing and concentrating is making me hot,” you laughed sheepishly.

“No problem.” Dodge replied plainly, although you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes suddenly scanned your body. He wasn’t even trying to hide it, as they lingered on the curve of your hips and the peaks of your tits, visible over the neckline of your shirt. Your face was getting warmer than the sun.

“I need a break, why don’t you tell me about these trophies?” you shot up and stood by his dresser, desperate to form some sort of connection with this man.

“Alright,” he stayed on the bed. He began explaining each one in pretty great detail. If you couldn’t physically get close to him, at least this was helping you get to know him better. There was a big one from when he was kid that had a particularly funny story to go along with it, and you held the shiny gold cup, facing away from the bed. You didn’t notice the way he slowly got up, coming up behind you and sneaking his hands around your waist. Your breath hitched, the smell of his musky cologne apparent as his neck was mere inches from your face. He turned you around to face him, fingertips never leaving the exposed skin between your shirt and skirt.

You stared up at him, eyes dark and low. It wasn’t his usual uninterested stare. No, this was lust, a throbbing, aching lust. God, he was so tall. You nearly had to tilt your head all the way back to even make eye contact. He cupped your face with both hands and pulled you in, kissing you in a way that you had never been kissed before. It was as if his lips were a key and yours were the lock, they fit perfectly together. His tongue found its way down your throat as his hands started to gently roam, tracing every curve and pausing as he found your ass under the skirt. He cupped your ass and squeezed, hard, earning a moan from you into his mouth. You could feel him smile against your lips as he squeezed again, making you press your body into his. Fuck, his abs were so tight and so defined you could feel them through the fabric. You looked up at him again with pleading eyes and he smirked before leaning right next to your ear.

“You wanna learn how to ride?” he whispered. You knew he was cracking a joke but god it felt so serious in that moment.

“Yes daddy.” you groaned back. Woah. He had never asked you to call him that, and you were not the type to just bust that word out usually.

“Fucking christ I need you so bad,” he hoisted you up and you instinctively wrapped your legs around him as he carried you to the bed. So “daddy” was well received. He flung all the notebooks and paper to the ground with one swipe of his arm. He was holding you up with one arm, giving you a chance to realize how strong he truly was. He tossed you down on the bed, rough but making sure he didn’t hurt you. His shirt came off almost immediately, and you happily helped him undo his belt buckle so you could see more of him. His cock was already throbbing through his boxers, just coaxing you to sit on it. He had already pulled your shirt and skirt off, and expertly unhooked your bra, tossing it to the side and taking a moment as you laid there in nothing but a lacy thong.

“Goddamn,” he sighed, grazing his thumbs over your nipples, teasing you and only making you want his cock more. He started applying more pressure, doing gentle circles with his thumbs and pressing his erection between your legs. Your moans were soft as you bucked your hips into him with progressively more force.

“Easy,” he firmly placed his hands on your hips, steadying them and pressing them back down into the mattress. “That’s no way for a good girl like you to behave.”

Suddenly it was Niagara Falls between your thighs.

He kept playing with your nipples, pinching and twisting and flicking, seeing how good it clearly made you feel. He wrapped his hands around your back and flipped you on top of him, quickly pulling down his boxers and exposing his cock, already slick with pre-cum. He reached into his bedside drawer and pulled out a condom, looking at you as you straddled him.

“You ready baby?” he nearly cooed. You nodded and started to lift yourself up over him, but he decided to take control. His rough hands were planted firmly on the sides of your supple hips, guiding you onto his length. You were soaking wet, but he was so fucking big you could still only take half at once without flinching. He held you steady, waiting for you to get used to the feeling of him inside you. You both had locked eyes the moment he grabbed your hips, and neither had dared to look away, drinking in, being intoxicated by every emotion that crossed the other’s face. He slowly moved you down until you were fully sitting on his cock, gasping as the last inch pushed into your walls. Your hands were on his chest as you leaned forward, eyes now shut as you felt how close the two of you had become. Two hours ago he would barely say a word to you, now he was literally inside of you. He started rocking you back and forth, controlling your hips and making you feel so fucking good. Your clit rubbed against his abs as you rode, sparks zapping across your body every time he moved you in just the right way.

You were on top, but Dodge was fully in control. You were completely submitting to his touch, letting his hands do all the work. His body was doing all the talking he hadn’t done earlier, as he purposely thrust his abs up, knowing that was getting you closer and closer to the finish. You were starting to lose it, made completely stupid by how good his cock felt inside you.

“Fuck Dodge-daddy, fuck,” you were so so close, you could feel the orgasm starting to bubble up in your stomach.

Right as you were about to climax, Dodge sat up and leaned in.

“Cum for me good girl,” the thickness of his voice was enough to send you over the edge as you cried out, breaking free of his hands and grinding on him.

“Oh fuck me,” his head rolled back and the feeling of your pussy clenching around his dick was enough to finish him off, pulsating against your walls.

You slid yourself off him and collapsed onto his pillows, resting your head in the crook of his arm.

He started playing with your hair and the two of you just laid in silence, basking in the bliss of the sex you just had.

That was certainly one ride you never wanted to get off.

dividers by @.cafekitsune

[strang3lov3]

PLEASE GIRL I WOULD ACTUALLY KILL FOR DAD!JOEL IM NOT EXAGGERATING I WILL DO ANYTHING PLEASE I WILL GET ON MY KNEES PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE IM ALREADY HORNY JUST THINKING ABOUT IT PLEASE I WILL KISS YOU PLEASE

Warnings - dubcon/noncon. Unprotected PIV, age gap (assume reader is an adult), incest obviously. Joel is your dad. Do whatever mental gymnastics you need to do to make it palatable lol, or don’t. If it’s not your thing, don’t read. This is fiction.

Another bad day. Joel’s been having more of these bad days lately. Everything coming up fuck, nothing going right.

As he walks up his stairs, he peels off his damp, navy blue shirt, and tosses it into a nearby laundry basket. He needs a shower and a beer to wash the day away, but first…

…your door’s open. Like it should be. Your window’s cracked, and the warm, evening summer air blows gently through the second floor of his house. Joel raps on the door twice, then pushes it open all the way.

“You’re late,” you mumble. Your eyes are stinging, tired from staring at the TV.

“Yeah, I know,” Joel says. He takes heavy steps through your room, boots thudding on the hardwood floor. He presses a quick kiss to your cheek, unzipping his pants and pressing his hand against his bulge. He smells like sweat and sawdust as he leans over you, tugging your sleep shorts to the side.

“Daaaad,” you whine, squirming away from him. You’re really not in the mood tonight. You’re pissed, actually. Joel promised he’d be home on time. He promised he’d bring you pizza and that you would watch a scary movie together.

“Dont fuckin’ gimme that, I need this, kid.” Joel licks his fingers, still dirty from the day’s work, and pushes them inside you. “M’your father. I’ll love on ya if I wanna. You’re mine, you understand?”

You sigh deeply. “Yes, Daddy.”

Joel pulls his fingers from you, then frees his hard, leaking cock from the confines of his denim. He notches the thick head at your entrance, then pushes into you, his tip kissing your cervix. “Oh, fuck,” he groans, then pulls out of you.

“The fuckin’ parts guy didn’t deliver,” he says with a grunt, fucking into you again. You moan softly at the pleasure. “An’ Uncle Tommy fucked up the goddamn…” Joel trails off, lost in his own pleasure. “Oh, Christ. It doesn’t fuckin’ matter. Daddy missed ya, baby girl.”

More dad Joel

[orphhiicc]

SLOW HANDS- b. barnes ˎˊ˗

summary⤷ your boyfriend just lovessss taking his time with you.

warnings⤷ fluff, p-in-v, unprotected s[ex], praise, minimal cursing

pairings-⤷ fem! reader x tfatws bucky barnes!

── .✦── .✦── .✦── .✦── .✦── .✦── .✦── ── .✦──

⤷ you practically flung the door to your apartment open with bucky glued to you. you both hadn't been off each other since you left the bar and got into the uber. you both stumbled in, reaching out to flick the living room light on, earning a slight whimper from bucky.

without pulling away, he picked you up and walked to your room, throwing you onto your bed. you giggled at him as he threw his navy blue t-shirt off and gawked at you for a minute. he watched your body writhe on the bed waiting for him to make the next move, his eyes traced up your bare thighs, sending shivers down his spine. "what's with the grin?" you asked smugly, he laughed and lowered himself on top of you, tracing your jawline with his thumbs. "I just wanna take my time with ya doll".

his lips traveled to your neck, humming into you and intertwining his free hand with yours. his metal hand wandered down under your dress, his fingers grazed your thighs, and slowly he made his way up to your achy core. he played with the lace on your panties, watching as your back arched in anticipation and your brows furrowed as he touched you ever so slightly. "shh baby, just wanna feel you" he said kissing your collar bones and smiling into you.

you felt desperate under him like he was purposely trying to torture you. but you liked this side of bucky, you liked how sweet and loving he could be sometimes.

the smell of his cologne hit the air as if he intentionally sprayed more than usual. the smell made you whimper as he explored your body. he slowly detached himself from you, sitting up on his knees, straddling you under him. his hands wandered to your dress, you sat up slightly, allowing him to remove it. he pushed you back down, admiring your body. "you are so beautiful" he said smirking as he leaned in to kiss you.

his hand made its way to your exposed breasts, toying with him lovingly as admired you some more. he then continued back down to your panties, slowly pulling them off on you. you kicked the lacey blue panties off your ankles and looked at him. he moved down, hands pulling your thighs over his shoulder. he peppered kisses onto your inner thighs, nipping at them and moving into your core. he wasted no time on you. tongue flicking over your pulsing clit. your hands found refugee in his hair, pulling and tugging as pornographic moans left your mouth.

his tongue entered in and out of you at a pace you had never felt before. it wasn't long until your body started to shake as he inched towards your orgasm. then without warning, he pulled away from you, sitting up breathlessly and unbuckling his belt and taking his pants off. exposing his painfully hard and leaky cock.

you whimpered at the sight of him, he got back on top of you, and your hands reached for his back, bracing yourself for what he might do. he nuzzled his face into your neck, finding comfort in the smell of your perfume. he teased you by rubbing his tip against your soaked pussy soon enough he slowly entered inside of you. causing you to let out a gasp. your nails dug into his back trying to stabilize yourself.

you fucked you slow and hard, hitting your cervix with every thrust causing tears to escape your eyes. you squeezed your eyes shut, feeling close to your orgasm.

you felt his head lift up from your neck, "hey baby look at me", he said lowly. his hand cupped your cheek, wiping your tears. you hesitantly opened your eyes to see bucky staring at you. his hand stayed on your cheek, tracing the contours of your nose and lips every so often. he placed his forehead against yours, still fucking you even deeper than before, he watched as you closed your eyes, melting into his touch.

"such a good girl for me", "you don't how much I fucking love you, baby," he said.

the words alone made you almost cum

"oh james" you moaned breathlessly, making him smirk a little. "you gonna cum?" he asked, you didn't even have to respond to him when your legs started shaking. "let it out baby, I'm right there with you," he said. with the approval you let yourself go, going limp as he came into you hard.

you sighed at the feeling of him pulling out of you. immense exhaustion fled over your body. bucky cleaned you up and brought you under the covers, stroking your hair. he kissed the back of your head. "I love you" he whispered, earning a small smile from you.

⤷A/N- hey guys!! super short blurb loosely inspired by niall horans song slow hands! hope you enjoyed it.

[cow-smells]

Worth your While | Opla! Sanji x reader

Request: I've read that you are in the need for some Sanji request or ideas so here's one for a fic :D

The crew gets into a fight ( it can be the Navy or anither pirate crew) and the reader gets badly hit and Sanji just loses his shit seeing the person that he cared for the most getting knocked out?? I just genuinely wanna see Sanji just go ape shit on people because of it XD and maybe hiw the others in the clue will react to seeing Sanji like that? @smolracoon25

Summary: You and Sanji have been playing the flirting game for way too long. When you get injured, Sanji shows a side of himself you had yet to see.

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: none

A/n: I'm going purely off the live-action so pls have that in mind, also I'm just getting back in to the rhythm of writing after such a long time so sorry if this is poop/ooc/both, love ya :)

Read on AO3

“Don't you ever take a break?”

Zoro's voice coming from behind startled you, forcing you to break your longing gaze at Sanji who was fishing at the bow of the ship. “Huh?” came your wise response.

Zoro looked from you to Sanji. “You've been making moon eyes at him for months now. Don't you get tired? Or are you waiting for him to take his shift staring at you so that you can clock off?”

You felt heat rising to your cheeks. This was far from the first time crew members commented about you and Sanji's – whatever was going on between you two – but this was the first time Zoro called you out so blatantly.

When you didn't respond, Zoro went on. “I just came to tell you we should be docking soon. I'll leave you the pleasure of telling the cook.” with that, he left.

You closed the book on your lap. You really did have the intention of reading when you first head out to the deck, having some time to kill, but then... you noticed Sanji. At first you thought you'd go sit with him for a while, flirt and banter a little as you always do, but you found yourself absorbed in taking him in instead. He was different when he was alone. The way he looked so focused, so deep in thought when it was just him and the sea. Maybe even a little sad. So different from his usual sunny exterior that he put on when he was with people. Falling in to deep thoughts wondering what he might be thinking about – maybe about you? - you sat and stared, not reading as much as a word.

The book discarded, you felt a spring in your step as you made your way to the ship's chef.

The creaking floorboards alerted your arrival. Sanji turned to see who was creeping up on him, and when he saw you, he set his fishing rod aside as a wide smile grew on his lips, his dimples deepening and making your heart miss a beat. “There's my favourite girl. Come here, let me hear all about your day.” Sanji held his arms open, beckoning you to come sit on his lap.

The flirting was nothing new. When you first joined the Strawhats, Sanji was as flirty to you as he was to any other woman; he did not expect to meet his match in you. You were quick to play along, always one-upping him, dancing along the line that separated playfulness and seriousness, never quite picking a side.

The problem was, in reality, you had chosen a side long ago.

You would flirt and giggle and make him blush but never actually act upon anything. Neither would Sanji. He, however, took your playing along as though it was a battle to be won. Sanji would flirt, you'd reply with something raunchy, he would surprise you with something heartfelt. It was as though he knew exactly where to hit in order to get you a little closer to buckling, every time. As time went on he had become so devoted to your back and forth that you noticed he had gradually abandoned all other efforts flirting with other women, to focus entirely on you.

You had to remind yourself that this was a game to him. An instinct, almost. It hurt to think of your relationship that way, but you had to keep that thought at the forefront of your mind if you didn't want to fall even harder for him.

So you would continue to play along, even if that's all that you could have with him.

You chose not to indulge him completely – that was too dangerous for you – and so you opted to bend a knee over the armrest of his chair. Close, but no contact. “Come on, Sanji,” you bent your head in what felt like a bashful manner and said, “you know I spent all day thinking of you.”

You weren't sure if he was blushing or if that was just your wishful thinking. Composing himself, Sanji wrapped an arm around you to hold your waist, lightly tracing circles on your hip. “I beg of you, darling – next time, come find me instead of just thinking of me. I'll make it worth your while.”

You wanted to ask, how will you make it worth my while? Just to hear Sanji go in to detail of what you've been fantasizing about for months. But instead, you opted for a tamer response. “I came to tell you we're docking soon. Maybe I'll find you then and you could make it worth my while with a drink.”

Without missing a beat, Sanji took hold of your hand, bringing it to his lips. “There's nothing I'd enjoy more.” With that, he kissed your hand, his eyes never leaving yours.

Docking started out normal. Everyone knew what their usual chores were when you reached a town, restocking and fixing so that the ship would be in top condition for its next leg of the journey in your search for the One Piece. So while Sanji went in to town to restock on groceries (you didn't pay much attention to the others), you, Nami and Usopp stayed around the ship to fix up some of the damage it took when you last encountered a rival pirate ship. That also happened to be the reason it was just you three when the same rival pirates noticed your ship docked, ready to take their revenge.

The three of you had your individual talents, but you just weren't enough to hold up against an entire rival crew. They had attacked so suddenly and so fiercely – it didn't take long before you were on the sand, fighting to stay conscious. You lost that fight as you watched Usopp try his best to fight off three attackers at once.

You really thought that would be the end for you. You should have known better; it was Sanji's voice you heard as you regained consciousness, motivating you to open your eyes despite the pain that flooded your body.

The beach area all around you was covered with pirates who were taken down, just like you – only that they were your enemies. You first noticed Nami's orange hair – she seemed to be taking care of a bleeding Usopp, his condition worse than yours. Following Sanji's voice, you found him holding the last one of the rival crew by his shirt, throwing punches like you've never seen him before. It took you aback – thinking about it, you had never seen Sanji use his hands in combat. Too precious – need them for cooking, he'd once told you before adding, the only thing more precious to me is you. It had made you blush at the time before you had laughed him off. Now, you were questioning if it was a joke at all.

The man Sanji was holding wasn't putting up a fight – he was far too battered for that, but Sanji didn't stop. He was too far away for you to understand what he was saying to the guy, but focusing hard, you could just about make out half sentences – "to hit a woman" – "don't deserve to breath" – "finish you" – you searched for the strength to get up and stop him. You had never seen Sanji – your happy, cheerful Sanji – so angry, feral even. It scared you a little; but mostly, you knew Sanji would regret it if he were to kill a man who no longer posed a threat. So you grasped at the sand, forcing your aching bones to pick yourself up. But as you were regaining your balance, Sanji finally threw the man to the sand, a look of disgust painting his handsome features. "Finally made a date with her and you ruined it... You hurt her. You're lucky I don't kill you." The man groaned in pain.

In a sharp change, his features went from anger to concern as he finally left the man and turned to where he last saw you laying. His eyes were full of honest pain, until he saw you on your feet – then they read of hope. "Y/n!" Sanji called, rushing to you as he could see your struggle to stand upright. "You- I-" he scanned your body as he reached you, taking in all visible injuries. "Are you – are you okay? Can I help you?" he reached an arm around your waist, waiting for your approval before he held on to help you stay up, so afraid he might hurt you.

"Thanks." his arm around you really helped you to stay up. It was a practical measure, sure, any one of your crew mates would do the same – but when you look up and meet Sanji's eyes, you know that the tense feeling between you two wouldn't have been replicated with anyone else. "I mean it. You saved us. We'd... I'd be lost without you." at that, Sanji smiled that deep-dimpled smile of his at you, the playfulness not reaching his still-concerned eyes.

"Y/n," he started. "are you really flirting with me, at a time like this?"

It was strange how despite all your injuries, you felt less and less of the pain the longer you leaned in to Sanji, close enough to smell his fragrance. A half-smile reached your lips. You couldn't play this game any longer. "Did you really beat that guy up that bad because he ruined what should have been our... date?"

Sanji tensed, obviously not ready to have this conversation now. His gaze dropped momentarily before he wrapped his other arm around your waist, holding you tightly to him. "I had a hundred reasons to kill him," Sanji said, and you felt disappointment bubbling through you until he continued, "but the most pressing reason is that he ruined our date."

Sanji took the opportunity to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear and you couldn't help but smile so big you were embarrassed by it. "I really wanted that drink with you, away from the ship and everyone else. Just us."

You recomposed yourself. You needed clarity. "I'm not playing anymore, Sanji."

Sanji chuckled. "Fancy that. I was never playing at all."

You must have forgotten how to breath at all when he leaned down, his hand finding a rest on your neck as his thumb caressed your cheek. Nearly a whisper, he asked – "Can I kiss you?"

You leaning in served as the consent he searched for. After months of pining over each other, wondering what it would be like – his lips met yours, in a mixture of softness and passion like you'd never felt before. Forgetting you were injured at all you sneaked your arms around his neck, pulling him in, almost afraid of letting this anticipated moment of passion go. Sanji was more than happy to pull closer, a hand on your lower back holding you impossibly close to him.

The moment did, however, find its end as you heard your Captain whoop and holler from afar. "Yeah! Way to go, Sanji! About damn time!"

Breaking the kiss, Sanji nodded at Luffy, his smile lines prominent as he looked the proudest you'd ever seen him.

The crew was more than happy to make a quick exit that night, preferring to not stay around until the rival crew regained their strength. You were helping Nami untie the ropes anchoring the ship to the dock when she said, "I really thought he was going to kill him earlier." you didn't know how to respond. "I've never seen Sanji like that." Nami managed to untie a knot, and Zoro began pulling the rope up on to the ship. "He's really got it bad for you."

Despite that questionable context, you couldn't help but smile. In a burst of honesty you confessed; "I hope so, because I've got it real bad for him, too."

On cue, the ship's chef leaned over the ships railing, looking down to you. "Y/n, my love!" he called, as though the rest of the crew wasn't surrounding the both of you. "I hope you're finished down there, because I've got a candlelit dinner waiting for you up here. And drinks. You know, to make it worth your while," he finished with a wink.

From behind Sanji you could hear Luffy ask, "What about our dinner? Just because you're lovers now doesn't mean we don't need to eat..."

Sanji sighed and turned away from you, probably to go protect your dinner before Luffy demolished it.

"Right then, let's go," Nami said as you finished untying the last rope. "While there's still food to eat."

And for the first time, you boarded your ship not to find the One Piece or the All Blue – you were just happy to be there, with the man you loved.

[quokkicidal]

Bf!skz thoughts…

Gnere: Established relationship, fluff,

Warnings: None

Pairing: OT8 x gn!reader (separate)

A/N: I cant stop thinking about bf skz and I’m such a hopeless romantic…

Requests open

Masterlist

Chan:

Whenever he’s away on tour or even filming SKZCode, he always makes sure to bring you something back. Oh they were on tour and they had a concert in Australia? Expect him to bring back so many snacks because you “need to taste his childhood.” His parents also got you a little gift because they are so excited to meet you one day. He will also send you a bunch of pictures of the places he goes to. Especially if they have a concert in a city they’ve never been to before, Chan is blowing up your phone with photos. He’s also the type to send you a picture of the most obscure stuffed animal and be like, “this reminded me of you.” And you’re just like, “Huh???” Once he gets home, expect to be home bound for the next few days. He will not let you go. Oh you have a doctors appointment? Not anymore. Not actually, he’ll just be very pouty and do the fake baby cry (the “im foive” type cry) he does until you walk out the door. He just misses you so much and almost hugs the life out of you.

Minho:

He will always send you pictures of the cats. As soon as his mom sends it to him, he sends it immediately to you, even if you’re sitting right next to him. Your favorites are the ones where he’s actually in the picture, on the rare occasion he gets to see his parents and cats. He���ll send you videos of him playing with the cats and say “you really need to meet them.” His mom even said hi to you through the video. You wanted to meet them so badly but your schedule didn’t line up this time. His mom asked for your number so she can also send you photos of the babies, but she actually would send you photos of baby Minho. You smiled every time she sent them because she’d give you a little backstory of the photo as well. The whole time he was at his parents, he would occasionally FaceTime you and the cats made an appearance, Soonie ended up on his lap, staring at you through the phone and you couldn’t help but laugh.

Changbin:

This man loves wearing matching gym clothes with you. Whenever he buys a new muscle tee, you get one in the exact same color. Progress photos go hard because of this, and if he would post those photos on instagram, he knows that stays would love it. Though, anytime someone else tries to spot you at the gym, this man thinks to himself, “do you not see the matching outfits?” It’s a subtle form of possessiveness but it’s also cute because you guys get a lot of compliments over it. Sends his progress pics to the guys and says, “do you guys like the fits??” Jeongin calls him cheesy, but you know he’s just teasing. Has a pic of you as his lock screen, and ofc you’re in gym clothes. Specifically the dark navy muscle tee with the sakura branches on it, he said it made your eyes pop. Definitely not because you look absolutely stunning and he just loves looking at you. But you guys are the cutest at the gym.

Hyunjin:

He leaves drawings of you on the fridge of your apartment. He said it’s so you’re reminded of how he sees you. Basically telling you that he loves you. He will always tell you what he’s working on, and even if you don’t have a creative side, he almost teaches you. Like color theory, shading all the good stuff. But if he’s working on a drawing or painting something, whenever he takes a break, he sends you a picture. When they’re on tour, he will also send you photos of beautiful city’s, skyscrapers, to beach horizons. He always thinks of you when he takes pictures, thinking to himself, “I should send this to Y/N.” Don’t forget the pictures the members take of him, he also sends you those and says that he wishes you were in them. Also the type to have his lock screen as a picture of you, but it’s one of his drawings of you, gotta be careful in public ya know.

Jisung:

Kisses, lots of kisses before he goes on tour. He just wants to be around you every second he can because he’s not going to be able to see you for months. Every time you face him, his lips are on your cheek, your forehead, your nose, and your lips. He tries his best to hangout with you as much as he can, sometimes you would even watch the boys practice just to be in their presence. Also because you love watching them practice and just goof off. If he knows you’re watching him specifically, he’ll be a bit more eccentric to make you laugh. During their break, he’ll sit next to you on the couch while hugging you and rocking you side to side fake crying and saying he needs a nap. Once practice is over, you go over his and Minhos shared dorm. You order food for you and they guys, so by the time they’re done, it’s here. “I’m so hungry oh my god I’m gonna die!” Jisung says as he runs to where you set up the food. “Thank you baby, that was such a good idea.” He said while starting to eat. “You’re very welcome, I need to send you off well nourished or Chris will ask me whats wrong.” You laughed. “ I have to be in that old mans custody for three months!! Say it ain’t so!!” You laughed at his dramatics. After you ate, it was cuddle time. Jisung put on From Me to You (a very good anime) and you two just relaxed together.

Felix:

When he’s not on tour, you two spend a lot of time playing video games. Seungmin and Jeongin occasionally join if you’re playing Overwatch. Though, if you’re in the mood to play Stardew Valley, he is so down. You guys have the cutest little farm and he names all the animals after the members. He’s in charge of the animals and you’re in charge of the crops. He’s determined to marry you in the game, because little do you know, one day he hopes to marry you in real life. The names of the animals that aren’t named after the members are his baby name ideas. Will decorate your farm with statues and obelisks. He hates Lewis. He’s the number one Lewis hater. While he’s on tour, he tries to find a promise ring to give you when he gets back.

Seungmin:

Whenever you have to go back home and visit family, he understands what it feels like to you when he goes on tour. “Do you have to go? Just invite your family to Korea?” You laughed at him “My parents don’t do planes unfortunately, but I could probably convince them in the future.” If his members saw the way had his arms around your waist and head resting on your shoulder, they would be clowning him so hard. Seungmin doesn’t care what he looks like right now, he just doesn’t want you to leave him. Yea, he knows you’ll be back but there will be two whole weeks where he can’t physically be in your presence. He’s a little clingy, but that’s okay. He usually gets like this before you or him leave for longer periods of time. Although, when you’re back home you call everyday. Your parents even wanted to see him over FaceTime and he got nervous but introduced himself. You send him pictures of your hometown and he can’t help but to imagine if he grew up with you. “We would have been best friends”, he thinks. Once you’re back, you give him all the baseball cards, clothes and snacks you got him. You spent half of your night cuddling, opening baseball cards and looking up who is who.

Jeongin:

If you wanted fashion advice, you got it. If you didn’t want fashion advice, you still got it. He’s the type to find something in the store and think it suites you, and then he builds a whole outfit based on that piece. When he’s on tour, he picks up pieces for you because he knows that you’d like it. Some designer pieces here and there. He just loves creating outfits for you and he’ll always send you pictures of them. He also loves sending you pictures of his and the boys outfits before they go on stage. He also sends .5 angle pictures of the members, Hyunjin is the main victim. May or may not have taken home a jacket that you said you liked. Minho looked at him, “Uhh isn’t that part of the wardrobe.” He just looked at Minho and said, “Yeah, but I think it would look good on Y/N, the staff said I could have it.” Definitely had his mom call you and make sure you’re doing okay. His mom invites you over to dinner almost every night and shows you baby pictures.

[bunny-jpeg]

Hey bunny please can I get some Belgian waffles with a mince pie and a lemon slice with a margarita and a espresso shot (with Ghost) Ps: you’re one of the best COD smut writers fr

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! i accept for all kinds of fandoms, so please don't hesitate to check it out! thank you! as for this lovely anon, thank you for the submission!

belgian waffles ("i cum in that every night.") + mince pie ("i'm not jealous.") + lemon slice ("i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making.") + margarita (unprotected sex) + espresso shot (dirty talking) served by simon "ghost" riley (call of duty)!!

cw: smut/pwp, unprotected sex, jealousy, dirty talking, possessive!simon, creampies, wife!reader, (semi)dom!reader, cowgirl position. mentions of cheesecake

simon loved his missus. oh, there was no other woman quite like you. you and simon had be married for two years now and he still hadn't got tired of you. when you laughed, he smiled. something he thought he'd never do after the life of suffering he had. he believed his heart still beat because you loved the sound of it.

you were his wife, the lovely mrs. riley. and it took years of suffering for simon to realize that if he loved something. he had to hold is close. and with you, you were the closest to him.

which was why he was a little protective over you.

"simon james riley." you said with your arms crossed, "you are the most possessive man in all of this country. hell, maybe this entire continent! and don't think a cheesecake is going to make it all up to me."

simon slumped his shoulders a little, "love, please."

you crossed your arms tighter and eyed your husband, "simon. you told my male co-worker, quote, 'i cum in that every night'. you jealous fuck!" you threw your arms up.

simon attempted to defend himself by saying, "i'm not jealous.", he was a ghost on the battlefield. he handled more dangerous missions than the average special-ops soldier. he was battled bruised and scarred. but yet, under your stern gaze, he felt very human. where most assumed that the hulking size of mister riley meant he wore the pants in the relationship, it was quite the opposite, mrs. riley was the head of the house.

"simon. please. you know that i love you more than there are drops of water in the ocean." you dropped your arms, it was impossible for you to stay mad at him forever. he was your beloved husband. you got closer to him on the couch and dropped into his wide lap and took his square jaw in your delicate hands, "there's no need to get possessive of me."

he sighed and wrapped his strong arms around you. you held onto his face and guided it to yours. you kissed him on the lips and he eagerly kissed back. when he pulled him he cuddled you closer in his grasp and said, "it's not. it's them. i've seen every shade in a man. if somethin' happened to ya, love. i'd never be the same. i'd be a real ghost then."

"then don't make me send you to the afterlife because you keep telling people how much you finish in me." you said, shaking your fist at him. it wasn't totally serious, but it also wasn't totally joking. you knew simon worried, there was a reason you had your location on all the time when you went out.

you knew your husband had seen so much hurt in the world. the kind of pain that you couldn't wrap your head around. you had seen the scars from his father, caked into his skin. jagged and rough. even though they were buried under tattoos, you could still make them out. your husband's life had been rough, so you couldn't stay mad forever.

you placed your hands on his broad chest then gripped onto the front of his well loved navy blue shirt. you leaned towards him and gave him another kiss, "thank you though." you had to admit.

he raised an eyebrow and looked at you curiously. you were about to bite his head off and now you were thanking him?

"for wanting to protect me. i know it's only second nature for you." you patted his chest before you got up from his lap. you held out your hand to him, so small compared to his, "i know you love me, simon. even when you drive me up the wall with your... brash comments." you slumped your shoulders a little, "it feels nice to know that someone out there loves me."

he got up and took your hand. his hands were so rough and dry. they were like polar bear paws compared to yours. then again most things on him were bigger compared to you. he pulled you close to him and wrapped a strong arm around your waist. he looked down at you said said, "anythin' for you, lovie. you're my wife. i made that promise to ya, and i intend to keep it. don't like liars and men who don't look after their women." then let you out of his grasp to lead you to the bedroom.

you gave him a slight push onto the bed and he was already taking his shirt off. there was something about your husband being dominant that was a turn on. but, sometimes you wanted that control. and simon was more than happy to hand it over. like as he got undressed without you even having to ask. his strong body was exposed to you from his thick tattooed arms, to his dirty blond happy trail, to thighs that could crack someone's neck. he was so physically imposing compared to you. but you held his invisible chain.

you stood there with your hands at your hips, feeling simons' gaze along your body. you asked him, "are you going to be a good boy for me, si? be the boy i know you can be."

you watched that thick neck swallow and his cock stand a full mast. you giggled, the answered your question. you felt his gaze intensify on you as you undressed. exposing your curves to the man you married. you heard him shift on your squeaky bed.

once nude, you got into bed and straddled your husband's waist. he laid back onto the bed and watched you get on top of him. your pussy rubbed against his hard cock and you let out a soft noise. but when you sank down on his impressive length, he was the one making all the noises.

"shit, love. holy fuck. shit! shit!" he groaned as he buried his hands into your hips. not enough to harm you, but enough to feel closer to you. his words were silenced by your lips, tender and sweet against his.

"i'm sorry, what was that, si? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making." you giggled, lips close to his. he could feel the jump in his pulse. you took him in for another kiss and moved your hips against his. his cock hit in all the right areas and it made him pant heavily.

his eyes could've rolled back into his head, "nothin', love. i'm sorry. i'm sorry for scarin' off your co-worker. i just, i just want to make sure you keep bein' my woman. my life."

you took a hold of his face as you moved up and down on his cock. you peppered his face with kisses as you moved, going across every scar on the flesh.

you moved against him, the friction made him see stars. oh, you were perfect. even with your size difference, you still took him so well. he was honoured in all honesty. you worked so hard, he remembered having to give you the dimensions of his cock so you could find a toy close enough to its size to practice on. while that wasn't a story told at your wedding, it did get him through a lonely two weeks in austria. knowing you were back home riding silicone to make yourself better for him (as if you weren't perfect).

he held onto your hips and let you work against him. he could feel the pounding in his chest at the sight of you. and you were the same way. you placed your hands on either side of his wide chest and moved up and down his cock.

big scary man reduced to pathetic moans and soft words by his wife's body. it would be cute if it wasn't so pathetic.

"see what happens when you're a good boy, simon? you get all this and more. your wife's pretty cunt. i know you drool for it every day. kick off those boots, get out of your mask and starting hunting to get a taste of me." you purred in his ear. it made him feel fuzzy all over.

you felt your heartbeat in your throat as you kept moving. you clutched onto the covers and really put your back into it. his cock hit so perfectly, it made you see star behinds your eyelids.

it felt so, so good. it lit a fire in you to make you two reach your orgasms. he watched your body work with him, rutting against him. it left warmth in your belly, and pooled into your limbs.

"i love you." you said.

"i love you too. fuck i love ya." he groaned as he felt the shudder of pleasure through his body.

such a rough man that would fold so easily for you. you rose and dropped your hips at a quicker pace. simon's pants were heavy as he watched you climax. as you arched your back and gasped into the air. your body went tense and it made simon finish inside of you.

cumming in your pussy settled a beast in simon's blood. that he had marked his beloved from the inside. it made a little something rise him that was settled when you slowed to a stop and rested your head against his shoulder. his cock was semi-hard and still nestled inside of you. you sighed contently.

"you are the most possessive man in this country, si."

he wrapped his arms around you as you let your bodies cool down. both breathing heavily from the after shivers of pleasure. he said softly, "yeah, love. but, only because you're my whole world. only a fuckin' idiot would lose you."

you looked up at your husband and kissed him on the lips, "well then, mister riley. i think there is an apology cheesecake in the fridge waiting for us. or at least me, since you bought it for me." it had slipped your mind earlier, but now you craved something sweet.

simon cupped your ass for a moment before he kissed you. anything for his loving missus. the woman of his life <3

[bywons]

୨୧ KISS IT BETTER — n. riki

pairing. badboy!nishimura riki x f!reader w.c. 0.8k tw/cw. mentions of fighting, nicknames, kissing genre. highschool au, non idol au, fluff feedbacks and reblogs are always appreciated!

sru's note! niki my cutest boy >.<

m.list ⏐ requests are open! ⏐ navi

the youngster winces at the cool sensation of ice against the fresh bruise, blooming red and blue under his skin.

but what's hurting him even more than the burning bruise on his left cheek, are the eyes of the girl pressing an ice pack to it. your reddening hurt eyes, brimming with tears which are threatening to spill onto your flushed cheeks, a result of crying earlier.

but the reason? nishimura riki, your boyfriend, showing up with bruises and cuts all over for the third time this week at your favourite rendezvous point— behind the small cozy bungalow of the old 'cat lady' in town, who almost never came out.

"you promised riki", your voice shakes, the delicate heart of yours no longer being able to withstand the sight of your lover's wounds and gloomy expression, "then why?"

"ya won't get it princess", riki breathes out the nickname for you so smoothly, utterly believing at the complete vanishing of your subdued anger.

but instead a gasp leaves riki's mouth at the sudden absence of the cool, relaxing and alleviating sensation from the sore bruise. riki's frown deepens and a cute pout forms on his tough face when he lifts his head to look at you.

"i won't get it? i won't get it?!", you scoff at his words and abruptly remove the ice pack from his bruise, "how do you expect me to not get it when the bruises are basically 'cause of me!"

"don't you blame yourself now!", riki's fast to get protective, even if it means to protect you from yourself.

however, you weren't entirely wrong, as everyone who mocked or insulted you for any reason was forced to smile and greet you after riki entered your life-frame. their change, while good, was involuntary on their part. nishimura riki was the main change brought in.

he'd often get his knuckles bruised and crimson, not hesitating to land punches on faces you didn't like. riki was known around the school campus for being reckless as heck, he knew it too, so doubtlessly he didn't mind adding the point, "protecting my girlfriend", to his list of becoming even more reckless.

but he forgets that he's getting punched back, getting wounded up too just to make his girl sweat.

"riki", the way his name slips out of your kissable lips and the way it sounds so dulcet, but it repels your glossy eyes and a frown full of worry.

and riki's heart aches again.

"y'know i hate seeing you like this! y'know i don't like you getting hurt," the ice pack falls on your lap with a sigh leaving your mouth.

"it's only for your good, love. don't like those people near you—"

"they've stopped hurting me riki!", you sigh again, placing your hand ever so softly on his cheek, "you've done enough for me."

"hmmm", riki hums in relaxation and melts into your touch, tilting his head onto your hands, secretly wishing your touch would linger around forever.

"it still kinda burns", riki pouts, pointing towards his bruise on his cheek still crimson and puffy, "kiss it better?"

despite of dating the boy for nearly a year now, he's always catching you off guard, even with his immense love for you. like right now, when he decides to sacrifice his already worn out school trousers to the dusty earth covered by dry birches leaves, without hesitation. riki makes you sit above it though, upon a makeshift chair out of an unfinished wooden rack in the backyard.

it was moments like this when a genuine smile played on your lips, and you know riki's the one.

with a shy smile and coloured cheeks, you lean down to your boyfriend sitting on the ground, to press a feathery kiss to his bruise and heal in some magical way for him.

you pull away quickly worried that if you press your lips any harder, it may hurt him.

"now this one?", riki smirks, pointing to another bruise painting his skin purple. this one dangerously close to his lips, lying on the corners.

"you cheeky!", it's refreshing for riki to see you giggle again, the dry tear-stricken cheeks of yours elevating to laugh.

you lean down, this time cupping his soft face and bringing it closer to you. and just when your plump lips brush against the corner of his, riki moves his face in a way that his lips meet yours. into a sudden, yet endearing kiss.

your eyes widen after the kiss, shocked eyes meeting riki's proud and smug ones.

"promise me", you whisper as your eyes travel around the recent and previous marks and cuts on rikis face, "you'll never fight again."

"can't promise something like that angel," riki scoffs, taking your hands in his, and softly pressing his lips against your knuckles.

"hey riki—!"

"but that's alright, you'll kiss it better every time, yeah?"

© bywons, 2024. do not copy, translate or upload any of my works without my permission.

taglist: open! CLICK ON THE LINK TO BE ADDED!

[gracie-eilish]

my love🫂

an: here ya goooo sweet pea☺️

it’s a little shortttttt but i hope u still like it :)

The sun had long dipped below the horizon, casting a soft navy hue across the Malibu sky. The ocean outside your window whispered gentle waves against the shore, a lullaby indifferent to the chaos of the day. But inside your cozy home, the quiet was heavy—not peaceful, but dense, like the air before a storm.

You’d sensed it the moment Billie walked through the door. Her usual energy—whether it was playful teasing or tired warmth—was absent, replaced by a hollow stillness. She didn’t greet you with her typical grin or pull you into one of those lazy hugs she loved, where her arms draped over your shoulders and she’d nuzzle her face into your neck. No, today was different.

She kicked off her shoes with more force than necessary, dropped her bag unceremoniously by the door, and mumbled something about needing a minute. You watched her retreat down the hall, your heart tightening with each step she took away from you.

You gave her space for a little while, knowing Billie could be like that—internalizing, trying to sort through her feelings before sharing them. But as the minutes ticked by, the knot in your chest grew. You couldn’t ignore it. Not when the person you loved most was unraveling behind a closed door.

Quietly, you padded down the hall and found her sitting on the floor of your shared bedroom, her back against the side of the bed, knees drawn up to her chest. She wasn’t crying—yet. But her face was tense, her jaw clenched like she was holding the universe inside, refusing to let it spill out. Her fingers fiddled with the sleeve of her hoodie—your hoodie, actually, one she’d stolen weeks ago because it smelled like you.

“Baby,” you whispered gently, kneeling in front of her. “Hey, what’s going on?”

Her eyes flicked up to meet yours, and that was it. The dam broke.

A sob escaped her lips, sudden and sharp, like it had been clawing to get out all day. She didn’t try to fight it this time. She didn’t apologize or explain. She just crumpled forward, falling into your arms with the weight of everything she’d been carrying.

You caught her without hesitation, wrapping your arms around her tightly, one hand cradling the back of her head as she buried her face into your shoulder. Her body shook with the force of her sobs, raw and unfiltered, like she’d been holding them in for too long.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped between cries, her fingers clutching desperately at your shirt like it was the only thing tethering her to the ground. “I don’t—I don’t know why I’m like this. I’m just—everything feels too much today.”

“Oh, honey,” you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. “You don’t have to be sorry. It’s okay. Just let it out. I’ve got you.”

And you did. You held her like you’d never let go, rocking her gently, your cheek resting against her hair. You whispered soft reassurances, the kind of words stitched with warmth and safety.

“You’re okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you. Just breathe with me, okay? You’re safe.”

She clung tighter, her sobs ragged and desperate, pouring out all the frustration she’d tried to bury.

“It was just—everything,” she hiccuped. “I spilled coffee all over myself this morning, then the interview was a mess, and I—I felt like an idiot. And people were just… so mean today. About everything. My music, my face, even the way I talk. I thought I could handle it, but—”

Her voice cracked again, dissolving into more tears.

“Shh, baby, I’m here. None of that matters right now. Just me and you, okay? You’re not an idiot. You’re the smartest, kindest, most talented person I know. And you’re allowed to have bad days.”

She sniffled, her fingers tightening around the fabric of your shirt like she was afraid you might disappear.

“But I should be stronger. I shouldn’t let stupid stuff get to me like this.”

You pulled back just enough to cup her face in your hands, gently brushing away the tears streaking down her cheeks with your thumbs. Her eyes were glassy, red-rimmed, and filled with so much sadness it made your heart ache.

“Billie, listen to me,” you said softly but firmly. “Strong doesn’t mean you never break down. Strong means you’re brave enough to feel it. To let it out. You don’t have to hold it all in just to prove something. Not to me. Not to anyone.”

Her lips trembled, more tears spilling over as she whispered, “I hate feeling like this.”

“I know, baby. I know.” You pulled her back into your arms, her head resting over your heart. “But you’re not alone. I’m right here. I’ll hold you as long as you need. You don’t have to carry it by yourself.”

She melted even further into you, her sobs gradually softening into quiet sniffles. You ran your fingers through her hair, your other hand tracing gentle circles on her back.

After a while, you shifted, guiding her onto the bed. She curled up beside you, her head on your chest, fingers tracing lazy patterns over your heart as if grounding herself in the rhythm. You kept whispering to her, soft and soothing.

“Do you feel a little better?” you murmured, brushing her hair from her face.

She nodded slightly, her voice small. “Yeah… just tired now.”

“That’s okay, baby. Rest. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, her fingers playing with the hem of your shirt now, calmer but still needing that small connection.

“For what?”

“For being my safe place.”

Your heart swelled, a warmth blooming in your chest that no bad day could ever touch. You kissed the top of her head, holding her like she was the most precious thing in the world—because to you, she was.

“Always, my love,” you whispered. “Always.”

And as she drifted to sleep in your arms, her face peaceful at last, you realized that love wasn’t just about the good days. It was about being the person someone could fall apart with, knowing you’d help them put the pieces back together.

You were her safe place. And she was yours.

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tangerine x fem!reader

Summary: Tangerine protects you at a fundraiser and then Lemon learns about the two of you - Epilogue to Don't Blame Me

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: heavy make-out scene, swearing, canon like violence, attacking, mentions of blood and death, slapping, sexual innuendos, protective!Tangerine, jokingly implied daddy kink

~ thank you for requesting @j23r23 ily! this was fun to write! ~

TANGERINE MASTERLIST

Tangerine's hand grips your hair so firmly, his lips crashing into yours as he holds you close with his other hand. He's pressed you up against the wall of this empty corridor, your lips already bruised black and blue from the intensity of his kisses. You try and catch your breath to try and remind him Lemon is waiting inside.

"Tan," you mumble as his kisses trail down your neck, and you gasp, "This fundraiser is important for us. You're supposed to be m-mingling—ah—" you moan and your hands pull at his curls as his tongue explores your mouth as if it doesn't already know every crevice. 

"If you didn' want me kissing ya, you shouldn't av dressed like this," Tangerine groans, his hands gripping your hip as your navy blue dress bunches around your waist and the slit exposes your skin.

"I fuckin' hate these fuckin' events, you know that better than anyone, but you're making it so much sweeter," he growls and his teeth pull at your lip after he speaks and you squeal and press your palm on his chest, pushing him away. 

"Ow," you hold your hand over your mouth. 

Tangerine's hands find your cheeks and with obvious care, he examines your lip. When he finds no injury to fuss over, he kisses your forehead and mumbles, "'M sorry, my love."

You melt, all your anger disappearing as your shoulders relax. 

"Can we just go inside and do our jobs? Lemon is gonna kill us," you sigh and absentmindedly run your hands over the buttons of Tangerine's vest. 

"Bull," Tangerine chuckles and runs his thumb over the sides of your mouth, "Lemon's most likely too busy bothering some poor sucker over Thomas facts, bless 'im," he looks down and takes your purse, fishing out your lipstick and handing it to you, "Might wanna freshen up, darlin'. You look like a downright mess," he smiles and creates some distance between you. 

You frown. You take out your pocket mirror and angle it to see how smudged your crimson lipstick is. Your eyes snap up and see that Tangerine's lips have taken most of your lipstick and he looks just as sinful as you do. 

You turn the mirror around and deadpan, "So do you, dimwit."

He shrugs and just wipes the side of his mouth as he looks to the side. It doesn't help much, but he doesn't seem to care.

Tangerine barely looks like he's listening, his attention suddenly pulled elsewhere. You turn the mirror back around and then fumble with your lipstick as you try and reapply the color, grumbling, "Lem's right, you're such a fucking Gordon. Never fucking listening to me."�� 

However, you weren't expecting Tangerine's hand to suddenly close around mouth, the gesture surprising you so much you drop the mirror and it shatters on the ground near your heels. You prepared to shout at him, because what the fuck, when the look into your boyfriend's eyes, however, makes your blood runs cold.

"Something isn't right," he mutters, his hold on you unwavering, "I know those guys. They're not supposed to be here." Tangerine's voice sounds stern as he looks back towards the ballroom where the fundraiser is being held and the music is faint.

Abruptly, a loud gunshot is heard and screams follow as you gap and your hands fly to your ears. Tangerine seems unphased by the sound and without warning, he holds your forearm and pulls you down the hall in the opposite direction from the chaos now ensuing in the other room.

"Lemon," you exclaim breathlessly. Only, Tangerine isn't listening as he practically drags you to some smaller room of the building and pushes you inside.

The door closes shut before you can even process what he'd done and you slam your palms onto the splintered wood, shouting, "Hey!? Tangerine, what the fuck?" 

"I'll be back for you," you barely hear him over the gunshots and screams, and then nothing for a moment until it all resumes, and your shouting is drowned out by shouts of pain and fear. Your mind is racing as you look around the small, cramped, maintenance closet he'd basically forced you into.

Tears blur your vision but you try to find something to pick at the lock or however Tangerine had locked this goddamn door.

You continue to hear screams and gunshots. Your hands start to hurt as you use the pin in your hair to pick the lock instead. It's useless for a while and you slam your palm on the door in frustration.

What if something had happened to them? Why did he push you away? You could have helped them like you always do!

Finally, after what seems like forever, you hear the gunshots cease and it's replaced by sirens. You shove open the door with your shoulder, choking on a sob as you look around. You see bodies and blood everywhere and you feel weak as you walk towards the stairs and the exit.

You're too scared to scream out in case whoever was shooting is still around. 

Everyone is crowded in the street, some are injured in their sparkling dresses and fancy suits. Ambulance and police are parked all around and you know every assassin and criminal there is grateful for the cover of the charity.

You stumble into the crowd, desperately looking for two familiar faces, and when you hear an all too familiar rough voice snap out an insult, you snap your head around.

"Ya gotta let me back inside, you bastards! Do ya hear me? Someone is still in there! I gotta get 'er," Tangerine snarls and attempts to stand from the sidewalk where three exhausted-looking cops are trying to calm him down. He's bloodied and messy, and his eyes look wild. He's pissed. His arm is in a sling and Lemon is holding an ice-pack to his forehead as he grumbles to himself. 

You let out a breath and without thinking you find yourself running towards them as fast as your stupid heels can take you. Your mascara stains your cheeks and the stickiness prickles your skin as you choke on a sob when Tangerine sees you.

He stands up, his eyes now wide with pure shock and relief. The three officers look confused but move to the side when they see you approaching. 

The situation then becomes ever more awkward for them when you wrap your arms around Tangerine's neck and kiss him, pressing yourself into him to have him close. You ignore what a mess he's in or the way he squirms away because of his hurt arm. In fact, when you pull away you look him dead in the eyes and lift your hand to slap him. 

"Bloody hell—" Lemon stands beside his brother, his eyes wider than you've ever seen them.

At the same time, one of the officers grabs your arms and pulls you away from Tangerine, "Miss, you can't—"

"Don't touch her," Tangerine snarls harshly and with his good hand, he pushes the officer away from you and stares at him. "We're good here," he says with such authority they don't argue and leave you three alone.

"I cannot believe you locked me in a closet?!" you hiss and reach up to touch Tangerine's cheek, running your thumb over a bruise you think you made with your ring. Oops. "You nutter," you say.

"You kissed him," Lemon says again. 

"I had to, Peach, I couldn't have those dangerous fuckers hurting you!" Tangerine says calmly, unphased by your slap, and looks to the building and all the chaos, "I don' even know what they wanted from all of us—I mean, what sane person would put a hit on a bunch of assassins and hitmen?" His voice is softer as he thinks aloud. 

You slap his chest to pull his attention to you again. "I'm so mad at you! You could have died!"

"You kissed him," Lemon repeats, staring at the both of you as if he's in a trance. Then, he shakes his head and puts in between you and Tangerine, his arms outstretched on either side of him. "Will you fucks just shut up for one goddamn second?!" he glares at his brother and then looks at you, "You kissed him!?"

You bite your lip, the situation sinking in.

Shit.  

"She's done much more than that," Tangerine says, his tone smug.

"Tan!?"

"What?!" Lemon snaps his head to look at his brother. 

Realization dawns on him as he looks between his two favorite people and a look of disgust soon graces his features, "Gross! You've been hooking up? Seriously?!"

Tangerine stares at his brother sternly, "No. I love her. We love each other."

Lemon looks even more appalled and he looks at you as if you've lost your mind, "You love this arsehole?" he asks. You feel warmth on your cheeks but you nod and see Tangerine's shoulders visibly relax when you admit to Lemon you love him too. "Thomas help me," Lemon mutters and holds his head as he slumps back down on the pavement, "You fuckers are givin' me a headache."

Tangerine rolls his eyes and pulls your attention back to him when he touches your arm and moves you away from Lemon. You look up at him, still incredibly angry but the touch of his calloused hand on your cheek weakens your anger. "Peach," he whispers and pulls you in as he kisses your forehead, "'M okay, see, 'm not dead," he tells you as if one of his arms isn't in a sling.

"I can take care of myself, you know—" you pout, but you let him hold you close. 

"I know. But ya have me now. You've always had me," Tangerine says and looks you in the eyes, "I wasn't thinking, okay? I was just scared of losing ya. Can ya forgive me?" 

He says it so softly you have no choice but to accept his demand and you nod. 

"Lucky me," Tangerine chuckles and then kisses your lips sweetly. You roll your eyes at him when he drapes his suit coat over your shoulders to keep you warm as you walk back to the car but you lean into him anyway. Lemon trails behind you both, pouting. 

When he catches up, he says, "No kissing in front of me, alright?!"

"No promises," Tangerine winks at you and nuzzles his chin in your hair.

"Ugh, Peach, dump this arsehole already!" Lemon sounds exasperated by you both and you laugh, deciding to add a little salt to the wound. 

"But Daddy, I love him," you fake a whine in a high-pitched voice, quoting one of Lemon's favorite movies. Lemon, although understanding the reference, looks absolutely horrified at this.

"Don't call me that!"

"Don't call him that," Tangerine deadpans at the same time as his brother and pulls you in closer. You giggle when his mustache tickles your ear as he jokes in a whisper that you can only call him that when the time is right.

Lemon loses his shit when he hears his brother and he immediately pretends to gag for the rest of the walk back to the car. 

[withahappyrefrain]

"Feel this? It's just for you." and 17. "Can you be good for me?" screams older bf!bob to me!!!

Bob Floyd was the perfect man. A gentleman above all else. Handsome as hell, with his dark blonde hair that had grey streaks throughout the strands and piercing blue eyes. A well established and decorated career in the Navy.

So why the fuck was he with you? He could have his pick, anyone would be stupid to not be with him. Why did he choose to tumble into bed with you, someone barely into their career?

You wondered this as you watched Bob receive another award for his illustrious career. It was difficult to not feel out of place, as you were surrounded by wives and children of those receiving an award tonight.

But feeling insecure just wouldn't do for Bob Floyd.

Like a sixth sense, he could tell that you were at unease. He placed a large hand on your ankle, his thumb gently rubbing back and forth on your soft skin.

"You wanna get going soon, sweet girl?" His precious nickname for you made your heart flutter, despite it being far from the first time he used it.

"You don't want to stay?"

Bob chuckled, leaning in, causing the scent of his cologne to flood your nostrils, "If I'm bein' honest? Not really. Would rather be at home with ya."

Was it because he loved you, or because he then wouldn't be seen with you? The question plagued your mind on the ride back, as you were walking inside, and finally, as you were entering his bedroom.

"Alright, tell me what's wrong," He demanded, "And don't say it's nothin'. I know you."

"Why are you with me?" Bob's eyes narrowed at your question, his nostrils flaring.

Before you could even judge his reaction, his lips crashed against yours. His hands gripped the soft flesh of your hips, eliciting a small gasp. Using his hands to guide you, your back quickly made contact with the soft mattress.

Bob had never been this....possessive before. Every touch sent a spark up your spine. His hands were everywhere; gripping your hips, kneading your breasts, pushing the hem of your dress up to your waist, revealing the lack of underwear that was intended to be a surprise later.

A low, almost gutteral growl fell from his pink lips, making your thighs clench. In vain, you tried to move your hips down, hoping to make contact with his thigh. Bob's fingers now span the entirety of your throat, forcing you to look into his oceanic eyes.

"Feel this?" His other hand grabbed yours, placing it on the crotch of his pants. You gasped upon feeling the bulge that had grown in such a short amount of time.

"It's just for you. Don't want you to ever doubt that. You're fucking incredible. So smart and clever and so fucking sweet. Everyday I wake up, wonderin' what I did to deserve ya. Don't ever question why I chose you, got it?"

You nodded, completely entranced by him. How he was able to switch effortlessly from the sweetest to the sexiest man you knew. God, you'd do anything for him.

"Now, I need to know. Can you be good for me?" Nodding again, Bob smirked. Quickly, his hands grabbed your hips, moving you so that he was now underneath, placing your bare cunt directly over his clothed erection.

"Ride it sweet girls. It's all yours."

Your hips moved instantly, bringing sweet relief to your aching core. A strangled moan erupted from Bob, the sound music to your ears. What you'd give to hear it all the time. Every time your hips grind against his, every time your clit brushed against his pants, your mind lost itself to a pleasure filled haze.

"That's it. God, you're so good t'me. Gonna fuck you so good after you cum all over me," He grunted, fingers digging into your soft skin.

"W-want it s'bad." Was that your voice? Was that you whining? Better question, did you even care?

Bob moved to sit up, hands pushing down the straps of your dress, revealing your bare chest. His mouth latched onto one of your hardened nipples.

Bob's mouth was God damn magical. That was the only way to describe it. When you two first met, you had no idea it was possible to come from just someone's mouth. He had shown you so many things. For years you thought it was just you, that sex just wasn't meant to be pleasurable.

As Bob put it, you had just been with folks who "didn't know shit."

"Go ahead. Nothin' stoppin' ya, sweet girl." He practically cooed. Picking up the pace, the bedroom was filled with heavy breathing and a mix of moans from you and Bob.

"B-Bobby!" Your body kneeled over as pleasure overtook it. Bob held onto you tight, moving his hips to prolong your pleasure. He could feel you making a mess on his dress pants, fuck.

He tried, but he couldn't wait. Flipping you over, he quickly unbuttoned his pants, pushing it down his thighs just enough to give him room.

"Ah! Bob!" His cock was so big, filling you in one thrust. Your body tried to adjust to him as he began to thrust in and out of you at an unforgiving pace.

"Told ya I was gonna fuck you real good sweet girl. And I always keep my promises."

[dollwrites]

𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 — 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!student!reader, titty fucking ( busty!reader ), oral sex ( m!receiving ), facial ( gojo loves skincare!! ) noncon, little bit of manipulation, suggested age gap / power dynamic, all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝘆 ∣ @tomatop [ thank you so much, i hope you like it! ]

“You look scared to death, baby girl.” Gojo was muttering with amusement as his long leg juts out behind him, kicking the door closed. it effectively traps you in the room with him, and at the same time, blocks out the dim light from the quiet hallway. your heart pounds heavy against your chest when darkness engulfs the room, and you reach out to flip the light switch, but his hand clapping around your wrist halts your movement, and your breath catches in your throat. “Don’t be. I’m not gonna eat ya.” you can feel the warmth of his body, and the wave of his breath against the shell of your ear, and you realize he’s right behind you. so close that the taunt muscles masked by his uniform bump against your shoulder blades. “Not until I’m done having my fun with you.”

a husky chuckle bubbles up from his throat, and you let out a nervous giggle, too. you’re not sure why you do that— maybe to ease the growing anxiety within you. but it embarrasses you how timid you sound when you murmur, “I don’t think we’re supposed to be in here—“

his hand careens upwards to grasp yours, guiding your delicate fingers to the light switch and flicking it. in a moment’s time, the room is flooded with the glow, and you realize you were staring down at your own feet. your bare knees peek out from underneath the navy skirt, tucked inwards towards one another.

“But, what better place to hold an exam than a quiet classroom?”

you turn to look over your shoulder at him, your perplexity getting the better of you. only, you hadn’t expected him to be so close. his blinding sapphires peeking out just enough from behind his sunglasses to make your heart skip a beat, and his cocky smirk inches from your face. “I— oh, I’m being tested??”

his smirk stretches wider, and he nods. “Mhm.” he answers simply, before taking a step closer to you. he would’ve knocked into you, had you not stumbled back just in time. “I wanna see just how badly you really want me as a mentor. Do you know what that means?” you shake your head, starting to take another step back when he swaggers closer, but this time, he reaches out as grasps your uniform top, stilling you in your tracks. your eyes widen, and flit downwards to see his slender digits creeping between the buttons, slithering like two, devious snakes, beneath the fabric. upon seeing your apprehension, as well as feeling your breasts heave with a heavy breath, Gojo chuckles again. “You gotta earn it, baby girl.”

as soon as the words left his lips, a shudder slipped down your spine, and he hooked his fingers against your blouse, anchoring them from the inside, and popping buttons as he wrenches it open to expose your chest to him. you were thankful for the durability of your bra where your uniform top had failed you, and the partially secured mounds ripple in response to his rough treatment of your garments. an inaudible gasp leaves your lips parted followed by a soft cry of protest, “W—wait..!” your face heating up with a furious blush, and Gojo elicits a soft, playful whistle.

“There we go. I’ve been waiting long enough to see what those tits looked like under that tight, little top you wear.” your new teacher snickers, allowing his middle finger to curl around the underwire of your lingerie, his knuckle nesting in your warm cleavage, and he uses that grip to pull you back to his body, sighing in content when you stumble, and your breasts smush against his chest. “Come a little bit closer, let me feel ‘em.”

both of his hands then envelop your clothed mounds, squeezing through the soft fabric of your lingerie to knead and grope at you, and he swoons at how easily your body squishes, how soft and warm your tits feel in his hands. even through your bra, you could tell he was enjoying it. the ever-growing lump in his dark trousers was beginning to prod at your bare thigh. you wince; his treatment growing increasingly more rough. you knew it was wrong, so you grasp his wrists in an attempt to pry his hands from you. but, Gojo merely ignores the gesture, and your silent protest.

“These feel good. Your little bra can hardly keep them contained, huh?” he snickers playfully, rubbing them in circles to hear the sounds you make. “So fucking soft,” Gojo whispers, more to himself than to you, and squeezes again, harder this time. when your breath catches in your throat, you elicit a quiet and almost pitiful squeak, and he suppressed a low growl. “They’re sensitive too, huh? Does it feel good, baby? Having your big, soft titties groped by your teacher?”

“No.” you lie, sheepishly. it was embarrassing, to say the very least, but you didn’t want to admit that deep down it felt good. it was so wrong. “Please, stop…”. the strength in his hands, and the way he grabbed handfuls, then groaned when your flesh attempts to spill out of their cups at his rough treatment. you look away, trying to ignore the humiliation of hearing yourself make such whiny mewls, but Gojo wouldn’t allow that.

“Look up at me, pretty girl. You know what I really want to do to these big, warm tits?”

your eyes flit back up to his countenance in a second. even the black lenses of his shades couldn’t completely mask the celestial glow of his glacier’s gaze, that drew your stare in as easily as a siren might send sailors to their death. “W—what?”

it didn’t even sound like your voice; you were completely and utterly entranced by Satoru Gojo.

he liked it.

a lot.

with a soft chuckle, his tongue swipes along his lower lip, before his voice drops to a low, husky octave. “Wanna see my cock sliding between them. Think you can do that for me, baby?” he doesn’t wait for you to answer; he gives you a little pat on the head, before tilting his own. “On your knees for me.”

you were hesitant, swallowing hard around the nervous lump in your throat, but he didn’t mind forcing you. one hand grasping your hair roughly at the roots, he guides you down, further and further, until you have no choice but to go to your knees to avoid the sting of your hair being pulled. “There you go, down, down, down. Just like that.”

“Ow,” you whine, just under your breath, and look up at him once you’re planted, your uniform skirt fluttering around your thighs. “You’re hurting me, Gojo-sensei…”

Gojo’s grin hadn’t left his face, not even for a second, and he uses the grip on your hair to tilt your head back so he can study your countenance with a soft hum. “If you’re a good girl for me, I won’t have to hurt you.” the flippant tone of his voice forced a chill up your spine as he continues, “But if you fight me, I will take what I want from you. And it will hurt. Think about that, pretty girl, while I fuck your tits.”

for a moment, you’re stunned, but you watch him fish inside his pants and pull his cock out, wrapping a powerful fist around it and pumping it roughly a couple of times. you stared at it, allowing your eyeline to trace every girthy, veiny, strong inch of him and you couldn’t help the involuntary gulp that you took, swallowing hard around the lump in your throat. it was one of the biggest dicks you’d ever seen.

“Like the view?” Gojo teased, but he smirked as he grasped the base and held the twitching muscle still for you to admire some more. “You can admit it. Makes you wet, doesn’t it?” you shake your head in denial again, and this time, clench your thighs together as you feel the telltale damp patch growing against your panties. electricity buzzed through your veins, anxiety over being so close to your teacher’s cock driving you insane. “You’re a bad liar, baby. I’ll have to treat your little pussy the next time, let her feel me slide in slow and fill you up. But first…” as he speaks, Gojo’s voice takes a lazy, sexy dip, and he pulls you by the wiring in your bra again, tugging it just far enough away from your body to slip his cock underneath, nesting it into your cleavage with a happy sigh. “If I don’t fuck those tits, I’m going to lose my mind. So, do me a favor, pretty girl…” Gojo’s hips rock forward, worming his cock between your tits until the plump, pink tip pokes out, inches from your glossy lips. “Stick out your tongue, and drool like a sweet, little slut.”

“Y—you can’t do this—“ you whined, “you can’t m—make me do this…”

but his grip on your hair jerked your mouth closer to the twitching, thick tip. your eyes widened. your mouth was already watering, almost uncontrollably, now that you could smell his musk— the arousal that clung to his cock, so all you had to do was stick your tongue out as instructed, and saliva drip, drip, dripped down on to the head of his dick. your eyes closed, but only for a minute, because a cruel tug at your roots reminds you where you are.

“Open up those pretty eyes, slut.” he demands, though his voice still sounds chillingly lighthearted. “Don’t want you pretending this isn’t happening. That wouldn’t be any fun at all.”

his hips had began to buck wildly; he fell into a quick greedy rhythm and started to moan. he was still smiling. his head rolled on his shoulders, but he kept his eyes, concealed by his glasses, on you, too. watching how you were jerked around by his tempo like a rag doll, and listening to the whimpers and whines of protest, gazing at the way his cock had smeared your spit between your breasts, creating a slick canal that he could pound into, as fervently as he would treat your cunt one day. “Fuck,” he hissed, grinding his teeth, and spread his feet wider, to plant himself more firmly. “Fuck, that’s it…” while one hand held loosely on to the middle of your bra, pulling you into a bobbing motion that complimented his rough thrusting, the other started to push down on the top of your head, his voice raspy with need.

“Suck the tip, baby. Take me in that pretty pout of yours.” as soon as your lips parted, creating a cushion for his sensitive tip to lay on as the rubbed himself off with your chest, he groans and nods, “There you go, pretty girl. Been thinking about how good your mouth would feel. Give me all those sweet kisses.”

you have no choice but to comply as he shoves your head down on him, moaning and sighing, panting against the cock tip as it plugs your mouth, muffling your noises. your palms flee to press against his abdomen trying to push him away, but your strength was still no match for his.

your eyelids fluttered as the raw flavor of Gojo Satoru coated your tongue, overtaking your mouth and claiming it in his name. his taste was intoxicating, and you were fighting an addiction already.

you had to remind yourself that you didn’t want this. you didn’t want him. but it was becoming increasingly harder to resist.

it was as if Gojo could read your internal struggle scribbled on your features, and he liked the idea of you hating him violating you so much, but being unable to stop it from turning your brain to mush. “You’re so cute,” he grunted, pushing your head down further, his fingers combing through your roots as he does so, “saying I can’t make you do this, but the more cock I feed you, the more your eyes start to glaze over. Do you know that? You can’t even help yourself; you’re gonna get addicted to it. I like watching you break. Gonna make me cum so quick, I’m almost embarrassed.” he was smirking, his playful nature evident, but you weren’t laughing.

Gojo’s grip tightens, both on your bra and your hair, and he drags you back and forth so fast that you worry you’ll get whiplash, using you like a toy to get himself off of.

“Going to paint you so pretty, hell-“ he cums only moments later; his jest about not lasting quite so long seeming to be only half a joke, and his fingers grope your hair at the root, pulling your mouth off of him just in time to shoot white streamers of warm release over your cheeks and across your forehead. you gasp, utterly humiliated by the way his sticky cum clings to your hair and cheeks. “There ya go… good girl.” he croons, pulling you by the hair once again to smear your mouth against his cock. you purse your lips, and the spunk still dribbling down coats them.

“You’re an obstinate, little thing.” Gojo moans, but he’s grinning from ear to ear. “I fucking love it. Gonna have way too much fun breaking you down, turning you into my personal slut. Forcing you to like it the more cock I make you take.” he takes a deep breath, rubbing his throbbing tip over the shape of your lips, and you suppress a happy squeak as you finally taste him. “Do you like your grade?” he teases, and when you merely glare up at him, he uses his grip on your hair to pull your head back just a bit. you can feel his cum clinging to your cheeks, and excess rolling into your hairline and dripping down your chin. his glasses slid down and you were staring into those hypnotizing eyes again. tasting, smelling, feeling him all over. your core throbbed— desperate for his attention, and you hated him for it. “Say ‘thank you for treating me like a pretty, little cumrag, Gojo-sensei’. Say it, and I’ll mentor you.”

begrudgingly, with your eyes shooting daggers up at him, you part your lips to speak. you didn’t want to, but you also wanted to be taught by the best of the best, and as despicable as he was, he was also the best. “Th—thank you, Gojo-sensei…” you cringed with each syllable, knowing that you were essentially giving in. knowing that now, he would do whatever he wanted to you, and you couldn’t say no. “For treating me like a pretty, little cumrag…”

[breathinlove]

glue ellie williams imagine

read this

sinopse: you might have a crush on your friend, college!au

cw: swearing, basically fluff, ellie plays soccer, puppy love again because that's my thing, slightly nerdy loser!ellie, reader and ellie are oblivious, not explicit if reader is fem or masc, not exactly proofread.

it was a nice day, the sun gently hitting your face after a week of chilly wind and winter complaints from everyone. you were leaving your last morning class. you walked happily towards the college cafeteria, a thing that no one was ever happy to do. you feel hot on your back, your black jacket heating from the sun but you refuse to take it off and feel the chilly wind.

everything was going as smoothly as it could today. you had worries but the sun was nice and warm on your skin… as you walked you saw her. you saw ellie williams, and like this day, she was golden. a golden soccer player, the best player in your opinion, that's for sure. she walked over to you, that wasn't unusual.

“hey, sup?” she nudged your shoulder to catch your attention, unaware she already had all of it.

she had big green piercing eyes below her eyebrow slit and. you stared for a bit, that wasn't unusual either. she had a mid-sleeve blue shirt that left her tattoo slightly covered. she just waited for you to talk, as she always did, looking down and fidgeting with her fingers. you walked side by side.

“cafeteria?” you point towards the way to the cafeteria, the one you and ellie had been taking for a month now . she hums in agreement.

you met ellie in this same situation, her in front of you, the last ones in the line at the cafeteria. a guy, jesse, walked over to her, jumping the line. she called him out with a few chuckles and he apologized, telling you he just wanted to talk to her. she asked you to sit with her that day.

now, you're in the same line. her in front of you and no jesse to jump the line, but you're gonna sit with her again. the food was not appealing, but the company was great. that was something you and ellie agreed on but kept unspoken.

she's waiting for you to finish putting your food on the tray, so you can walk to the table. ellie looks at you over her shoulder and as soon as you're next to her she's sticking her hand out to your arm, you flinch slightly. ellie was more touchy than you.

“you're quiet.” she fixes your school bag's strap on your shoulder, her tattoo peeking out of her navy sleeve. her cold fingers touch a little of your collar.

“yeah?” you shrugged. “so are you anyway.” she took a breath and shrugged too, sitting down at the right corner table. that wasn't unusual at all.

“do you have any projects coming up?” ellie says as she sits down, she brushes a strand of her hair out of her face. you nod and she hums. “knew it. ya need any help?”

ellie was always the friend to help out in any way, she felt good doing it and she wanted her friends to succeed so if she could help, she would in a heartbeat.

“you wanna help me?” your pupils dilated and ellie noticed.

“no…i mean, yeah i do. you know i do.” she shook her head no, then nodded yes. she's a rambling mess and you just stare and it's making her stumble over her words. “come over after my practice.”

“‘kay.” you try to hold back a smile and you look at your food, the sun is warm and so are you. you thanked god she asked you to come over for a study sesh. you'd take any opportunity to see her and she'd always ask.

ellie was somewhat popular for playing on the soccer team. you had a separate friend group but sometimes people meet randomly and they just click. like you and ellie. you had met jesse when you met ellie, and you eventually met dina and ellie met your roommate but you never really hung out with other people.

you had been friends for a while, lunches in the cafeteria, study sessions, and dorm visits were what your friendship was about and you took every opportunity to see each other. you were getting ready to leave when niyah, your roommate and closest friend spoke out.

“you going to ellie's?” you smile in that certain way and niyah doesn't need an answer anymore.

“she's gonna help me with my project.” you sit down to put on your shoes, checking the time on your phone.

“again? you say she's a nerd and i'm starting to believe you.” and you're nodding.

“she is.” you chuckle. “so smart and a fucking geek!”

“alright, have fun studying i guess…”

“stop, i will. it's fun with her.” niyah mocks you, you throw a hat from the wall hooks at her and leave the room.

you walk a little bit until you get to ellie's dorm. the door is unlocked, as usual when you're coming over and you want to scare her.

“aaaaa…ha!” you yell as you go in, only to find out she isn't inside. you feel stupid and you giggle to yourself.

you sit on her neatly done bed, next to her dinosaur plushie and you text her ‘where are you’ ‘i was finna jumpscare you and no one was here… mad embarrassing’. you sighted, she was never late to see you.

ping! ellie replied ‘omw coach had us doing an extra today” you smile and ping! “i even left without a shower so i wouldn't be so late 💔” you replied “ig it didn't work”. you're waiting for a reply but soon enough you see a sweaty ellie coming into the room, soccer jersey still on.

“oh my god, intruder!” she faked a scare and you furrowed your eyebrows as in ‘you're not funny’. “what? you said you were gonna scare me so…”

“whatever.” you stay on your phone replying to some of your friends’ texts and she pulls it away, wearing a childish smile on her dumb face. some hair stuck sweaty on her forehead and her cheeks were flushed.

“you came here to work, not play on your phone!” she laughs and you cross your arms over you chest. you don't even bother reaching out for your phone.

“you still have to take a shower so…”

“do i?” she shrugs and you look disturbed, furrowing your eyebrows.

“ewwwwww, yes you do smelly ellie.” you laugh and she furrowed her eyebrows in that same ‘you're not funny’ way. the truth is, you find each other hilarious.

“fine, wait here.” she says before grabbing some clothes from her drawers and her towel. “gonna shower real quick, and… and we can start.” you hum and nod.

she goes to the bathroom and you stay on your phone texting niyah and some other friends while she's not back. you get anxious at the image of her in her sweaty jersey for some reason and if you took your eyes off your phone you'd stare. but now it isn't any better, she's coming in with fresh clothes, smelling as good as ever and with water drops on her hair.

“hey… you didn't take out your stuff yet?” she coughs, sitting on the bed too. you shake your head and she hums negatively as to scold you.

you don't take them out and she stays quiet while you stay completely still. when you decide to reach for your bag that you had previously thrown next to the bed, you knee nudges hers. she retracts instantly, making you lift your head to face her. book and laptop in hand.

you stare, as you feared you would before. she knows she's gonna stutter so she decides to stay silent. she blinks softly, eyes still piercing yours.

“it's a questionnaire about a documentary. so maybe this wasn't a good idea.” you hold your book and laptop closer to your lap.

“w-why is it not?” she stuttered and she wanted to leave, but it's her dorm room.

“because… you'd have to have watched it to help me reply so it's dumb.”

“we can watch it, and then we reply.” she reaches for the laptop you had in your lap.

“uhh… it's 3 hours long.” you chuckle and she scoffs in disbelief. “yeah…”

“why did you want help then?” she moves further onto the bed, turning her body to face you, holding your shoulder so you do the same, you comply.

“dunno. i just… i didn't think of what project it was, to be honest. i just wanted… this i think.” you look around, emphasizing the ‘this’ as you do.

“to come over?” you shrug before nodding. “could've just said that. ya know? not your tutor, i'm your friend.”

“i know… but i dunno, i like hearing you talk and you talk and talk when you're helping me and…” you stop yourself and she's beet-red.

“you ask for my help because you… you wanna hear me talk? sorry wait…?” she's convinced she misheard you or just misunderstood what you said. you're scared she might think you're weird or something.

“i guess so, but you're also really smart.” you try to hold back a smile again, and you look down. ellie wants to see you but she doesn't want you to see her blushed cheeks.

“makes sense, sorry if it seemed like that was the only way we could hang. ‘cause that's not true…. we can just hang out y'know?” you listen to her rambling, keeping your head down. she's done talking and you're silent. “can… can you look at me for a sec?”

and you do. what are those? are those your eyes? where's your iris? big ass dilated pupils. ellie chuckles.

“what?” you lean to put your laptop and book back in your bag and as soon as you do ellie holds your chin.

“you like it when i talk?” you blink a few times. “hm?” she insists and you nod. she stays quiet so you feel like you have to say it.

“i do. why?” you breathe so heavily that she feels your body alive against her fingers that she holds against your chin. her stomach twisted, she lost her words.

both were silent, her hand on your chin dropped and you were going to look away but she spoke again.

“‘cause… i like it when you look at me.” she's now fidgeting with her fingers against her lap again, eyes trying to not leave yours, she wouldn't wanna miss any expression of yours.

“sorry.” you try not to look away too. “i know i should look-”

“yeah, keep them on me.” she interrupts with a chuckle and your heart skips a beat. hers is fast. you chuckle back. “wh-what do you wanna do then?”

“just hang, like you said?” you finally move your body again, moving one of your legs onto the bed. she nods, and she notices you kept eye contact.

“yes.” she vocalized. “course.” a strand of wet hair is stuck on her forehead and you itch to move it around.

“why did the coach have you guys doing extra today?” you remember to ask.

“it was just me and dina, we were late.” she laughs and another strand of hair falls forward as she lowers her head. your hand trails off but you hesitate. “what?” she noticed you didn't laugh and your hand's movement.

“you have hair here.” she laughs and you sigh. “here…” you brush the strands away from her forehead, she's choked up.

your eyes go down to hers and as soon as they pierce yours you're choked up too. she breathed out a “thanks.” and she accidentally touched your nose with hers because of the proximity.

“that was a kunik.” you smile and she pulls away softly.

“what do you mean?” she curled her lips up in a sweet smile.

“your nose on mine.”

“nose kiss is cute.” she adds.

“mhm, i think so too.” you agree, palming your jeans. your hands were clammy and you wanted to take off your jacket and ellie seemed to read your mind.

“you're hot?” you furrow your eyebrows at first until you nod and take off your jacket. “glad you know.” now she's holding back a smile when you do too.

“uhm… today's warm.”

“are you really talking about the weather right now?” she laughs at your conversation attempt and you slap her arm.

“it's not like that… it's actually nice and warm today.” you giggle. “i was thinking about it.”

“right… right… it's true, it is warm.” she surrenders to your true statement. “it's nicer to practice like this, makes you feel more energetic.”

“plus made you sweat so hard.” you laugh, remembering the state she was in.

“naaah, it's always like that, but coming back here speeding wasn't as refreshing as the walks when it's colder” she emphasizes speeding and glares harder at you with a grin.

“hey! i didn't ask you to speed here!” you smile, she mirrors that. your smiles fade away with the silence that settles again. you were about to speak again when ellie beat you to it.

“i don't like being late.” she moves around to lie down next to your sat figure.

“you were just laughing about being late.” you start laughing, looking at her almost over your shoulder.

“about being late for practice, not about being late to see you.” she chuckles and you grin. she rolls her eyes, knowing what to expect from you.

“oooh because i'm just sooo more important.” you turn to her, leaning on the bed with your hands, closer to her face now.

“yeah right… you're just scarier than the coach.” she laughs but she stops drastically, serious expression. “it's your face. scary as shit i swear to god.”

“ooooh really?” you chant coming even closer.

“yeah keep that face away…” she acts frightened, one hand on top of her head and the other between your faces to keep you away. you lean even closer and you're both giggling “help!” even closer, giggles and chuckles alive.

“you're done for!” you come closer, face hitting her hand, that just holds your cheek.

you're still laughing and she's grabbing your face with both hands, pretending to scream in fear as you laugh into her face. you're almost on top of her and as soon as you touch, her eyes soften and you stiffen. the laughter is gone and long forgotten.

“nose kiss again?” she blurted out incoherently and you shifted, her hand slid to your neck, you felt hot again but now you didn't have a jacket to strip out of.

“what?” you crawl closer to settle where you were. your heart raced just like ellie's, even if you didn't know hers did. “ellie…” you start, not moving an inch away or closer, her head already lifted off the bed. her hand on your neck pulls you closer until your noses touch again.

“there, nose kissed.” she smiles. you let go of the breath you didn't realize you were holding. she moves her nose against yours. breathing against each other's faces.

[buckysouvenir]

in the hex, episode 1: a perfect life

pairing: bucky barnes x y/n summary: Y/N, a witch with no memory of her true nature, lives a seemingly perfect life with her husband, Bucky Barnes, in a quiet, idyllic 1950s town. Everything seems picture-perfect—Y/N and Bucky are a deeply loving couple, content in their everyday routine. They share playful moments, enjoy simple pleasures, and have a deep connection that feels unshakable. Their life is peaceful, with no hint of anything out of the ordinary. However, things aren’t what they seem. authors note: i'm so happy to be finally posting this!

in the hex masterlist | next episode

reblogs, likes and comments are always encouraged and highly appreciated! thank you ♡

The sun rises over the quiet little town, golden light filtering through the lace-trimmed curtains of a cozy home. The air smells of fresh coffee and buttery pancakes, and a soft tune drifts from the vintage radio sitting on the kitchen counter.

Y/N hums along to the melody as she flips a pancake, dressed in a pastel polka-dot dress, her hair curled into soft waves. She doesn’t think about why she woke up feeling content. She doesn’t question why this life feels so… right.

A yawn echoes from the hallway, followed by the slow shuffle of bare feet on hardwood.

“Doll, do you always wake up this early?”

Bucky leans against the doorway, rubbing a hand over his face. His hair is slightly messy, like he just rolled out of bed. He’s wearing a white undershirt and navy pajama pants, the fabric clinging to his broad frame. But something is different.

His left arm.

It looks completely normal—flesh and bone, just like his right one.

Y/N doesn’t think twice about it.

“Somebody has to make sure you don’t leave the house without eating,” she teases, flashing him a smile as she plates the last pancake.

Bucky smirks as he crosses the kitchen in a few lazy strides, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. “Mm, you smell nice,” he murmurs against her hair, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. “Almost makes me wanna stay home all day.”

She laughs, elbowing him lightly. “Sit down, you flirt. Breakfast is ready.”

Bucky doesn’t let go right away. He just holds her there for a second, swaying them both slightly in the warmth of the kitchen. Then, with a content sigh, he finally lets her go and takes a seat at the small dining table.

Y/N sets a plate in front of him and pours him a cup of coffee just the way he likes it—two sugars, no cream. Bucky watches her with a small smile, like he’s memorizing every movement.

“What would I do without you?” he muses, cutting into his pancakes.

“You’d starve,” Y/N replies without missing a beat.

Bucky chuckles. “Can’t argue with that.” He takes a bite, humming in approval. “You make the best pancakes, doll. I’m tellin’ ya, if I wasn’t already married to you, I’d have to marry you for these alone.”

Y/N shakes her head with a laugh. “And here I thought you married me for my charm and good looks.”

“That too,” he says, winking. “But the pancakes definitely sealed the deal.”

They eat in comfortable silence for a moment, the radio filling the space with soft music.

Then, a knock at the door.

Y/N wipes her hands on a kitchen towel before heading to the front door. When she opens it, a familiar redhead beams at her.

“Good morning, neighbor!”

Wanda Maximoff stands on the porch, holding a covered dish. She’s wearing a floral dress, her hair pinned back in soft curls. Next to her, Vision stands in a neatly pressed sweater vest and slacks, offering a polite nod.

“Wanda! Vision! What a lovely surprise,” Y/N greets, stepping aside. “Come in!”

Wanda hands her the dish with a warm smile. “Just a little something I baked this morning. Apple pie, fresh from the oven.”

“Oh, Wanda, you’re too sweet. You didn’t have to—”

“Nonsense! What are friends for?” Wanda waves off the protest, stepping inside. “Besides, I had a feeling Bucky would appreciate a good homemade pie.”

At the table, Bucky perks up. “Pie?”

Vision chuckles as he takes a seat across from him. “I believe you have just been bribed.”

Wanda grins. “Guilty.”

Y/N shakes her head fondly as she sets the pie on the counter. “Well, in that case, coffee for everyone?”

As she moves to pour the drinks, she catches Wanda’s gaze. For a split second, something flickers behind her green eyes—something unreadable. But it’s gone just as quickly, replaced by the same warm, friendly expression.

Y/N blinks. She must’ve imagined it.

Right?

#taglist: @whisperingashgarden