#Only God would be able to block it.

[wordsthatithinkgohard]

[maximusboltaqon]

weird thing about the inhumans is that theyre obscure enough to not really have an audience and also havent really appeared *that* much throughout their entire 60 year existence. however they also well known enough that the mcu took a crack at it and permanently affected their comics and their old roles and sectors are gone to make room for the New MCU Versions. truly such a thing is practically unheard of.

[mildmayfoxe]

top 5 fav colours to use in prints

HOT PINK

LIME GREEN

NEON YELLOW

ELECTRIC BLUE

black

[leonardalphachurch]

hmmmmmmmm. maybe i should. do something. for 600.

[blkkizzat]

❝AYY, FUCK YO IG, I PUT SOMETHIN' ON YO SONOGRAM— I'M THE MAN.ᐟ❞

─•──── FARMHAND!TOJI X BIMBO!READER

꥟ summary: farm au. you and toji can't keep your hands off each other since he first turned you out in the barn and he's determined to put a baby in you ASAP! ꥟ wc: 2088 ꥟ a/n: I had to do something for my mans for his bday and I MADE it in my time zone at least (pst) FarmHand!Toji just comes so easy to me.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DADDY TOJI.ᐟ

[ read p1: here ]

FarmHand!Toji who after the first time fucking you senseless in the barn can't keep his hands off of you. God, it's so hard for him to get any chores and shit done when your young tight cunny spreads so willingly for him.

Out in the pastures, the herd of cows block the distant view of the both of you from the farm. Making it the perfect location for Toji to freely fuck you sloppy like you've been pouting for all morning.

Wanting to tease his sweet lil' Bunny, Toji would have made you wait even longer (so he could do a bit of actual work) but you always kept him on his toes. You were so much of a brat you pushed limits with him constantly.

This time your achieve your naughty goal by flashing him your pantyless pussy.

"Whoops, must have forgot to put some on this morning! I'm so silly huh, Daddy?"

You bat your lashes and sway your jiggling hips so innocently. Like the hot sun wasn't glistening off the gooey slick drenching your puffy pussy lips —it was fucking obscene.

Obviously, Toji is hard instantly but you still needed to be taught a lesson and he'd yet to keep his promise of 'fucking some manners into your haughty cunt.'

You clearly still didn't know how to act.

What with his lil' Bunny skipping around the farm all morning bare assed and so nonchalantly too?

How many times does he have to remind you he'd kill someone over you?

No one else was allowed to see what belonged to him alone...

Jealous as hell, Toji angerily snatches you up as you squee in excitement finally getting what you'd been craving. Easily flipping you over, Toji's large muscular arms drapes you over the old wooden fence like you were a mere feather.

The fact that Toji was supposed to be patching up said fence, not causing further structural damage from how hard he was about to tear your ass up is not lost on him. He simply just can't bring himself to give a fuck at the moment, not when you get him so riled up like this. Pushing your thin white sundress up your back, Toji doesn't even need to prepare you before he ruts into your heated core. Honestly, it didn't take Toji long at all to mold your pretty lil' pussy to the shape of his stocky girth. Your wet warm hole welcomes him back eagerly like it was his home. The pull of that creamy cunny of yours sucking him deeper to the hilt—even before his own hips could shealth himself fully inside—shit.

"That's a good girl bunny, that pussy opens up so good f'er me now, n'—HELL... She's just as fuckin' tight too."

Pistoning forward, Toji doesn't waste time with warming you up with slow strokes.

Not when you act out like this.

He knows once you get this way you are practically begging for him to pound you rough, deep and fast.

True to the nickname he bestowed you Bunny, you wanted him to fuck you stupid like one daily. Demanding Toji's hefty cock be plunged into your cunt during all hours of the day—especially at night.

Your slutty pussy was so hungry for his dick stretching her, you even foolishly volunteered the farm's security codes to Toji. Meaning he could slip not only in and out of your room at night —but the farm entirely. This was excellent for the illegal business he was forming under the cover of the farm.

Little risk of getting caught now too.

That old farmer slept like the dead and he'd been able to bribe the less than scrupulous night security workers.

Heh. Smuggling contraband in now was a breeze.

But in order for his plan to be put fully in motion he needed to knock you up quickly. Cumming in your quivering pussy 3-4 times a day was a necessity and Toji was more than up for the task.

He needed a baby in you yesterday.

And yet the way your greedy pussy hungered for him, strangling his length every time you came on his cock for the nth time made him think she secretly wanted to be a mommy too —you were the only one who didn't know that yet. You milked him so well like you were made for Toji to breed you —just waiting all this time for his nefarious ex-con cock to destroy you.

Toji grunts escalate as the old fence creaks and shakes from him brutishly bullying himself further into your guts. You moan deeply with every maddening thrust of his pelvis forcing his thick meaty cockhead to kiss your womb.

"Shiiit..Mmmm—OOOH!" The rebound of your plump ass ripples against his pelvis and Toji thinks its his favorite sight in the world. Both hands on your hips, Toji digs crescents into your flesh as he drives him into you over and over, deeper and deeper. The vulgar noises of moist skin slapping echo from your bodies —bodies which only get hotter and wetter under the oppressive heat of the sun and it's all so intoxicating. Your chest heaves as you take desperate breathes, your lungs struggle to even expand with how roughly Toji plowing into you.

There's nothing you can do but dangle there and let Daddy Toji use you like he wanted—not that you would have it any other way, loving when his cock purees your mind into just as much of the sloppy mess as your pussy. Toji could tell by your cries too just how your ass liked to be ferally manhandled like you were one of these barn animals.

"Yeah that's right my slutty brat 'moo' louder f'er Daddy while ya squirt on his cock. Ya wanna let this whole farm know who's making you feel this good, huh ma?"

You whine at Toji likening your pleasure filled sobs to that of cow noises but you're needy 'lil cunny only squeezes him tighter —just as he knew she would. Toji knows how much you like him talking crazy to you when he's fucking you six ways to Sunday, balls smacking your clit.

Thankfully no one could actually hear you from way out here. Meaning he was free to spew all kinds of nasty shit into your ear drawing even more slobber from your swollen pussy lips. It only made you hotter on the inside your mind only focusing on his debased dirty talk and the drag of his cock against your g-spot —Toji was hitting it perfectly from this angle. "Ya know ya fuckin' suck at milking cows but this juicy pussy? She sure knows how t'milk a cock like its 'er job." And it would be your job too if Toji had any say. Fuck going back to school at the end of summer and fuck getting a career. You didn't need to do anything but lay on your back and let Toji do the rest. Heh, you wouldn't be able to do much else but be on your back once you started growing his kids inside you anyway. He'd keep you nice n fucked out to the point you'd almost stay pregnant.

Spanking your ass harshly, the sting fills fresh tears on your already bleary eyes. You squeak between your pitchy moans as your pussy weeps so much of your arousal around your sex and down your thighs the squelchy gurgles of your creamy cunt are heard throughout the field.

"S'gudddd Daddy! HAH—HARDER!!"

You really are the perfect slut for him. Wanting him to go harder?

Could you even handle that?

As your reward Toji gifts you another spank, shaking the fence entirely now as it sways on its exposed hinges. It's a miracle it's still standing.

But Toji was determined to have you all for himself, to have everything —you, the farm, a wife —to bring Megumi here away from his twisted ass family so you could be the mother he never had. Thoughts of domesticating you makes him want to bust in you even more as he chases his release.

Wrapping an arm around your middle Toji lifts you so he can thumb at your clit. The rough pad of his thickest digit scrapes over your bud sending rapid tingles through your body that has drool pouring out of your mouth and cunt. "Daddy's gonna put his milk in y'er tummy, yeah Bunny? Tell me ya want it slutty mama —beg me f'er it."

But you can't beg, you can't do anything but ride the rapturous wave of pleasure radiating from your core as you squirt on his cock like a good Bunny. Your orgasm following soon after with enough force from erratic rhythm of spasms in your walls to make Toji spurt is scorching seed inside you. Filling your womb as you purr from the sensation.

Toji bites harshly down on your shoulder —another mark you'd have to hide from your uncle —who thought you were just a rather clumsy girl getting so many marks on you from your farm chores.

Slicked in sweat and your gushy pussy's fluids Toji slumps forward still inside you, his entire weight bearing down on you.

"T-Tojiiiii!" You whine in that pretty, utterly angelic way Toji usually can't resist but he had to keep his cock plugged in you a bit longer if he wanted a baby in you by the end of the month. He eases up a bit though, rubbing your sore ass cheeks and murmuring something about 'when he finally gets to use your ass' as his thumb ghosts aimlessly over your puckered hole.

When Toji finally pulls out of you, you're barely standing. Slumping your elbows on the fence, your hips went a bit numb from being folded like a pancake over the rough wood fence with a big man like Toji putting his weight on you.

Truthfully, Toji didn't even want to pull out. He could go a few more but you need to get back to the farm soon before your uncle came around looking. He'd question you if you kept missing lunch everything.

As if you could read Toji's thoughts you pipe up, voice a bit hoarse already from all your moaning. "I told my uncle I'd probably walk to the lake again today. So he won't be expecting me back until the evening, you know..." After enough feeling returns to your lower body you push off the fence and prance over to a nearby tree at the edge of the clearing. Pulling off your dress fully you lay it down on the lush green grass in the shade. Fully nude, the sun peeks through the shade's leaves, decorating your skin in its shadowed rays.

You stretch like a cat on your makeshift dress-blanket. Spreading your legs wide and arching, you gaze over to Toji from under your babydoll lashes. He's already on his way over to you. "Looks like I'm your lunch today Daddy... c'mon n' eat me up before I get cold."

Oh you didn't know what you fucking did to him... or maybe you did?

You were clever sure but all reason flew out the window when it came to Toji from the minute he first jammed his cock into your lewd sappy cunt.

Heh, you wanted FarmHand!Toji to ruin you? Well little did you know that's exactly what he planned to do anyway— trap you, and ruin your life and that pussy of yours at the same time.

꥟

Back on farm an old dusty white bus stops at the gate.

A lone prisoner exits, a man accused of being a serial killer— 27 victims all skinned and gutted mercilessly like fish in under two years.

However, the man has always protested his innocence.

The evidence at best was circumstantial, with a conviction based solely off of a lone witness who was later proven to be unreliable. As a result the appeal of his life sentence is currently in process, much to the excitement and anger, respectfully, of both his many supporters and detractors.

Yet the way his P.O. comically cowers is a stark contrast to the vibe of the prisoner. The tall, well built convict appears calm, somber even.

This was really the man that killed 27 people?

His eyes survey his surroundings with the hesitant curiosity of a puppy—nothing like the dangerous threat the courts or his P.O. make him out to be. Handed over into your uncle's care, the flighty P.O. quickly gets back on the bus, signalling the driver to get ghost quickly as if your uncle would change his mind at the last minute.

Your uncle on the other hand isn't intimidated at all by the notorious, supposedly innocent, pigtailed cold blooded killer. "Welcome to the farm, son. Like I tell everyone, just do as your told and stay outta trouble —you'll do fine I reckon. Don't fuck this up now, boy. In your case especially, this is the chance to prove yourself worthy of an appeal or its back to solitary for life Choso Kamo."

꥟

♡ blkkizzat ©2023-2025 ♡ — 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐍𝐎 𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫— 𝐚𝐢 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬, 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐦, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬.

꥟ a/n: oh hehe, i wonder what will come of toji's plan now that Farmhand!Choso has arrived 😈😩? Also y'all think he's innocent or guilty? 💕🤭 tysm for reading! lol idk if i end up writing more of this but this is my no pressure, for fun project (i whipped this up in like 3 hrs so whether i will or when it will come out i can't say~ i already have sm on my plate but farmhand!toji is special to meee and its his bday so had to run it back on him. i may come back edit this since i was rushing sorry for any mistakes! reblogs and comments appreciated!

[yungistiny]

rage mode

[ J. Yunho ]

╚═════════

summary: in which yunho’s roommate likes to test his patience

warning: pissed off yunho, brat reader, slight audophilia, wooyoung is a little perv, slight choking, spanking, unprotected sex

pairing: gamer yunho x afab reader

genre: smut

word count: 2.2k

masterlist

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

“Damn it, y/n, stop fucking killing me!”

Yunho’s voice sounded beyond annoyed, borderline completely pissed off. You could hear it in the way there was a slight growl undertone in his deep, tired voice. It was well past midnight, himself and his two roommates along with some of their friends had been playing this new online co op game for the last… 4…. 5 hours? Honestly, Yunho had lost track of the time.

“That’s what you get for getting me killed earlier.” Y/N replied back, her voice filled with amusement and dripping with pettiness. Yunho had half a mind to pause the game, march across the hall to her bedroom and unplug her pc. She had been nonstop killing him for the last hour or so and Yunho was starting to reach his breaking point.

“It’s not fucking funny, y/n! And it wasn’t my fault you and Wooyoung are using the same character.” Yunho snapped into his headset. He had even told his two roommates that choosing the same character to play as would be confusing for everyone and a bad idea. Did they listen? Of fucking course they didn’t. “Y/N, I swear to god!” He growled, avoiding just being shot once again.

“Swear to god,” Yunho could practically hear the smirk she had as y/n teased him, sniping his player with quick precision, a frustrated snarl echoing in her ears from her headset as Yunho was clearly pissed. “what would your mother say?”

“Could you two like… I don’t care, fuck and shut up already?” Jongho was tired of their back and forth bickering. He could practically feel the tension between the two and he was three blocks away in his own apartment.

Yunho and Y/N both shut up, their silence suddenly very loud and noticeable. “Well that shut them the fuck up.” Wooyoung was snickering, San and Jongho both joining him. Both his roommates probably thought Wooyoung was oblivious to their little tryst they had going on but their walls were thin and y/n was very vocal.

“It’s after 2:00 am, I promised Seonghwa I’d meet him for lunch tomorrow.” Y/N was lying straight through her teeth but the guys were none the wiser as she left the game. Yunho sighed in relief to not have her constantly up his ass, actually being able to try and explore the new game and have fun without getting killed every few minutes.

Yunho was so focused in the game now he didn’t see y/n open her bedroom door across the hall, he himself had left his bedroom door open. Y/N glanced down the hall towards Wooyoung’s, his door was shut and she could hear him yelling at Jongho over something in the game. Dropping to her knees, y/n smirked, biting her bottom lip as she crawled quietly across the carpeted floor into Yunho’s room.

She paused a second, taking in his big frame in sitting slightly hunched over in his gaming chair, completely focused on the game, the clicking of the keyboard and mouse loud. The only thing he had on clothing wise was a pair of baggy gray sweatpants. His headset sat atop his messy dyed dirty blonde hair.

Yunho couldn’t hear her movements over Wooyoung and Jongho now the ones arguing in the game through his headset, but he certainly felt her when she brushed against his leg, crawling under his desk. He looked down at her as the game was on the load screen, y/n peeking up at him now between his legs. “What are you doing?” He mouthed so the others wouldn’t hear over the headset.

Y/N only smirked at him. This was payback for not only getting her killed in the game but how he left her edged and on the brink of orgasm the day before. They had gotten into an argument in the living room, something about someone going into Yunho’s room and turning off his pc while he had a game paused.

An argument that eventually lead to Yunho having y/n bent over the couch, a hand gripping her hair, head pulled back as he was hitting it from behind, the lewd noises loud, echoing in the apartment along with y/n loud cries and moans mixed with Yunho’s filthy words.

“You do that shit on purpose, don’t you?” His hand came down hard on her ass causing y/n to jolt forward and giving Yunho the perfect opportunity to grip her waist and yank her back, dick thrusting all the way back inside her aching, edged cunt. “Fucking brat.”

His hand was tangled back in her hair, yanking her up, y/n back against his chest just as keys could be heard at the front door. Yunho had pulled out of her and darted to his room, trying not to trip over his own feet. Y/N had snatched her discarded clothes up and darted to her own room just before Wooyoung walked through the door.

Yunho clenched his jaw as y/n glided her hands up his legs, fingers grazing his bellybutton before dipping into the waistband of his pants and pulling them back just enough to be able to pull his hardening dick free.

His dick always betrayed him when it came to her. “This is what you get for leaving me to finish myself yesterday.” She wrapped her hand around him, working a steady rhythm up and down his length until Yunho had to bite his lip to keep from moaning, his dick now fully hard and aching to be buried inside her, mouth, pussy, he wasn’t picky.

“Dude, you good?” Jongho asked when a deep moan escaped Yunho, echoing in his friend’s ears through their headsets when y/n tongue started licking at his tip, hand still jerking him, thumb tracing a prominent vein that had Yunho almost whimpering.

“I…. I yeah… I just stubbed my toe under…. my desk.” It was a terrible lie and it wouldn’t be a good enough excuse to cover up the almost growl that left him when y/n removed her hand to bring his entire length into her mouth, his tip hitting the back of her throat and causing her to gag at the fullness and stretch.

“Ok, what the hell?” This time it was San who called him out. Yunho switched his movements from the mouse to the keyboard, using one hand to continue playing while reaching down to tangle his other hand into y/n hair, gripping it and gaining control, making her slow down the sudden messy, gagging, bob of her head on his dick. “Wooyoung, you just ran right into that fucking sniper!” Yunho ignored San, heart racing, that familiar tightness in his stomach growing.

How Yunho managed to play with one hand y/n had no idea but then again, he was annoyingly good at everything. She could feel he was close, his dick twitching against her tongue as he continued to move her head, fucking her mouth at a steady pace as he continued playing the game. He was biting his bottom lip so hard to keep from making anymore noise, it would be suspicious if he just muted his mic, his friends are nosy and would ask questions.

Suddenly, a loud “FUCK!” left Jongho when his player was killed, loud enough to muffle the deep moan that left Yunho as he came, y/n swallowing every last drop of his release, tears slightly forming at the crease of her eyes due to Yunho pushing her head down as far as he could get her, y/n nose pressed against pelvis.

Yunho released the grip he had on her, his hand moving to cover his mouth as his breathing came out in shallow pants. Y/N gasped for her own breath, wiping at her face before crawling up into Yunho’s lap. He had to mute his mic then. “Are you fucking serious right now? Wooyoung is literally down the hall, my door is open and…”

“Shut up.” Y/N rolled her eyes at him because she honestly just didn’t give a shit anymore. They’d been sneaking around for over two months now and she was tired. So what if their friends found out? The worst they’d do is tease them before finding something else to throw dumb jokes at. “Besides…” she smirked, reaching without Yunho seeing her to unmute his mic. “you’re already getting hard again.”

If Yunho would just look at his computer screen he’d notice the way his friends players were no longer moving. If he wasn’t so distracted by the taste of himself lingering on y/n tongue as she kissed him, he probably would of noticed how Wooyoung, San and Jongho had all grown dead silent through his headset.

“Wait…” Yunho pulled his headset off, carelessly placing it onto his desk, pausing his game. He’d tell the guys he had to use the bathroom or something, whatever. He’d make something up. “Take this off.” He was pulling at y/n shirt, helping her take it off, tossing it behind him somewhere on the floor in his room.

Of course she had no fucking bra on, Yunho dove in, arms wrapping around her, helping y/n to get some friction through her pajama shorts against his dick as he pulled one of her nipples into his mouth.

“No teasing, you did enough of that yesterday.” Y/N pulled at his hair, yanking his head back, Yunho’s lips so plump, face flushed, ears red. “Just fuck me.” Yunho was so lost in her, the mere thought of having his dick buried inside her that he completely forgot his door was open, still no idea that his mic was not on mute.

“Look at you” Yunho was smirking now, hands gripping her waist to hold her still. “so desperate for my dick you almost got us caught.”

Almost? Y/N refrained from smirking back at his cluelessness, instead putting on her best pleading face, lips pouting, moaning his name as she could feel him, hard, pressing against her aching cunt through the silky lilac fabric of her shorts. “Come on, please…” She barely ever begged but she was damn horny. Another reason why she liked to push his buttons, angry Yunho was a complete turn on for her.

Yunho let her go, nodding his head at her as y/n was quick to crawl off his lap and remove her shorts, him lifting his hips in his chair just enough to give space to shove his sweatpants on down his legs, kicking them under his desk. “Ride me.” Yunho’s voice dropped, so deep it had y/n clenching around nothing as he guided her back to straddling him.

Yunho gripped a hand against one of the little arms of his gaming chair to help steady them as y/n own hands pulled herself up using his shoulder for leverage, Yunho’s other hand reaching to help guide his dick into her, moans leaving them both as he filled her to the hilt. Both of Yunho’s hands went to grip at her hips, y/n own going to tug at his hair, the other around his throat.

“Why are we still listening?” San exclaimed over his headset. The lewd noises echoing in their ears from Yunho’s end made it very clear what was going on. “Because it’s fucking hot.” Wooyoung stated, practically whimpering towards the noises of his roommates.

“Wooyoung, you fucking freak.” Jongho teased him before clearing his throat as a rather loud moan escaped Yunho, y/n name on his lips. “Dude, go do something! They’re your roommates.” He could go and tell them to shut the fuck up. The sound of them together a little too hot for all three of them listening. They all had a boner.

“Fuck…. you always feel me up so…. good….” Y/N was a gasping, crying mess. Legs shaking, breathless. She could feel her orgasm ready to burst with every touch of Yunho’s dick hitting her g spot. Her stomach was in knots, eyes practically crossed as he held her arms behind her, using his knees as leverage to pound into her from where she straddled him in his gaming chair.

Yunho was close too, thrusting sloppy and fast, kissing at any part of her skin he could reach from his position. “So fucking good….. so fucking good for me…” he was mumbling, moaning, whining against her throat.

“Mine.” He pulled back, smirking, pupils blown. “My brat.” Two more deep thrusts and y/n was coming with his name a scream ringing from her lips. Four more thrusts and Yunho was coming, filling her so fucking full his legs shook.

They both yelled, Yunho groaning when he broke the fall as their movements caused the chair to rock off balance, plummeting them both to the floor. Yunho’s arms were wrapped tightly around y/n, dick sliding out of her as she slipped up his body. Both of them were panting, breathless, both from post orgasm and the fall.

“Holy shit…” Wooyoung was standing in the doorway, gaze dark as he had been watching them from Yunho’s open bedroom door. It’s not like he meant to, he was gonna knock on Yunho’s door but then… well… he couldn’t fucking look away. His roommates were so fucking hot together. He knew they had to of noticed the prominent hard bulge in his loose black pajama pants.

“You guys want a third?”

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note: am I putting together a gamer yunho full story? well yes!

tag list: @autieofthevalley @hannahlilibet411 @lovinjjong @wisejudgedragonhairdo @soupbinlily @georgeanabanana @yunyuniverse @minkioswoo @ateezswonderland @thuyting @hum4n-e4ter @atinyyuyu @zerefdragn33l

[reidmotif]

For the Love of Lace

Summary: Reader decides she doesn't want to pine for her best friend, Spencer, anymore, but still needs his help deciding what lingerie to wear for her upcoming date.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: breast and nipple play, fingering (r!receiving), lingerie talk, unprotected penetrative sex, no implied breast size, couch sex, best friends to lovers, possessive Spencer

Word Count: 3.7k

Masterlist

Pining for your best friend definitely has its lows. There’s a certain sense of pathetic-ness that comes about when your friend is simply speaking, and your mind is occupied with the yearning to bridge the gap of distance between you two, and kiss them senseless. I think perhaps the biggest low that I’d hit, however, in the two years I’d been pining for Spencer Reid was the sexual frustration that came with being unable to see myself with anyone else. 

I’d never meant for it to play out like this. I thought it was an innocent crush, a byproduct of all the time we’d managed to spend with each other divulging into our personal lives and sharing the ordinary comings of the day together. However, there came a point where I looked at him and could see my future laid out so perfectly with him. A future of love, and laughter, and God, so much sex.  And no matter what I’d tried, the thought was too good to let go. 

It didn’t help that not only was he oblivious, he clearly didn’t return my affections. There were no signs of longing that I could deduce from his actions, and I’d decided to be reasonable about this. His actions were always remnant of a good friend, but a lover? No. There were no longing stares. No stolen brushes of fingers, or hushed whispers. It seemed that anything romantic about our relationship only emanated from my fantasies of what I wish we could be. 

And so here I was, unable to get past the mental block of wanting anyone as much, and it’d resulting in a long, exasperating two-year stint of celibacy. And Jesus, did it show. The tiniest thing Spencer did would set me off in a frenzy, and it left me feeling nearly perverted at a certain point. There’d been a day that he ran his finger down a page, attempting to locate a passage to display to me and all I could think about was how badly I wanted that finger in me. My mouth. Me. Anything. And then I realized I was lusting over my best friend’s hand, and considered the possibility of this being a serious problem on my end. 

My only block to getting laid was my own self.  And I certainly didn’t relish in the debauchery I’d clearly stooped low enough to indulge in, and so it was decided. This Valentine’s Day? I wasn’t going to watch rom-coms and wonder if Spencer and I could ever have a happy ending like them.

 I was going to man up, and go on a date. Easier said than done. 

I’d found the date, that bit was easy enough. Trying to find someone to hook-up with on Valentine’s Day is like trying to find sand on a beach. Plentiful and simple. 

What wasn’t easy? Feeling ready for it. I hadn’t been like that with anyone for nearly two years, and found myself worrying that my sexual skills had deteriorated with lack of practice, even though the thought was rooted in some ridiculous notions about myself. I knew that logically the sex would be fine, and hopefully, exactly what I needed to get over Spencer, but still. I wanted to ensure the best possible experience. 

I found myself going through the motions of date preparation. A manicure and pedicure. A facial. I even bought a fancier perfume to wear the night of. And of course, a trip to procure some new lingerie for the night. 

I’d always been indecisive, and with the choices presented in the shop, I found myself overwhelmed. I’d decided and picked up 3 possible pieces, and instead of determining between them whilst buying, I bought all of them, with the intention that I’d be able to make a choice in the comfort of my own home. 

Except now, it’d been a week, my date was tomorrow, and I still couldn’t figure out what would work for me. All three were equally as appealing, but which one was the best? The question haunted me, and continued to  haunt me as Spencer and I hung out. Despite my date tomorrow, I’d promised to keep up our tradition of binging episodes of Star Trek on Friday night together, except my head was clearly elsewhere, which he quickly noticed. 

Damn profiler best friend. 

“Alright, what’s up with you?” Spencer asks, reaching for the remote and pausing on some random frame of Spock’s face, the show taking less precedence than my lack of attention. 

I sigh apologetically, quirking my mouth to the side. “I’m sorry, Spence.” I say, taking a deep breath. “Just a lot on my mind.” 

Spencer tilts his head, his expression a little more worried. “Something important?” 

I shake my head quickly, not wanting to disclose the reasoning for my distraction tonight. Especially to him, considering my date tonight had the sole purpose of me getting over the man currently sat to my right. 

“No, no.” I say, softly. “Just.. stuff.” I voiced, quickly.

“Stuff?” Spencer inquires. 

“Stuff.” I affirm. 

Now it’s his turn to sigh, making a slight groaning noise whilst he did so. “Come on. I’ve known you for years. I know there’s something on your mind, and it’s clearly distracting you, so.. Please? Tell me?” He asks, giving me those eyes. A look that would make anyone weak in the knees. 

I find myself hesitating, and bite my lip, and in the end, it’s the way he’s looking at me that does me in. I opt to stay vague, but give him a bit more insight into my wandering thoughts. 

“My date tomorrow? I don’t know what to wear.” I say, shrugging. “It’s not very important, but I want to make it work, you know?” I continue. 

“Why don’t you just show me your dress then?” Spencer inquires. “I’m not a fashion expert, but it’s not like I’m unable to have taste.” 

I laugh a little self consciously, shaking my head quickly. “Oh no, no. It’s not a dress. It’s okay, Spencer. I couldn’t ask you to do that for me.” 

“Shoes? C’mon! I’m your best friend. I’d do anything for you.” He protests, coming closer to me now. 

“Not shoes.” I say, still shaking my head. “And no! I mean, seriously. There are some things you can’t do for me, and it’s fine. I’m fine.” 

“Jewelry? Hair? Makeup?” He implores continuously. “I’m all ears.” 

I realize there’s no way in hell he’s ever going to let this go, so I blurt out with little thought, “It’s lingerie!” 

He goes a bit quiet in thought, and then raises an eyebrow. “And that poses a problem?” He asks, softly. 

I blink a little. Yes. Of course that’s  a problem. I love you so much that it makes me feel weak, and I can’t be even more vulnerable in front of you. Not like that. 

But instead I shrug, running my hands through my hair. 

“I just.. Wouldn’t that be weird?” I say, hesitantly. 

“Not really.” Spencer replies, nonchalantly. “You’re my best friend. And I want to help you in any way I can. Nakedness doesn’t really bother me, and if it doesn’t bother you, I’d love to help you decide.” 

“Spencer..” I mumbled, still incredibly hesitant. 

“I’m your best friend!” Spencer articulates. “And logically, I can provide you with insight that only another guy could give.” He points out. “In a purely platonic, and logical sense.” 

I had to give him credit for that. It’s true. Spencer did have insight that none of my friends could provide, and I’d always entrusted him in helping me make decisions for myself and my life. And honestly, it was starting to get suspicious with how much I’d been objecting to this. The man had helped me decide bikinis, clubbing dresses- this couldn’t be any more different, could it? 

“Okay. Okay. Fine.” I give him a resigned nod, getting off the couch. “Alright. Wait here.”

He plants himself more firmly on the couch, his eyes trained on where I’d disappeared into my room, rummaging through the shopping bag until I’d found the first lingerie piece. 

It was a simple black lace bra and matching panties. The bottoms were a bit cheekier than a normal pair of underwear, and my legs were on display in full. My hair framed my pushed-up breasts, and I looked at myself in the mirror, slightly self-conscious at the fact that I was about to present myself this way to Spencer. 

How did I get into this mess? 

I slowly twist the doorknob, calling out to him. “Spencer! I’m coming out with the first one.” 

“I’m here.” is his reply, and I know he’s waiting, and so I slowly push open the door and come out in the light, a little more in his view. I give a half-hearted 360 degree turn, and look at him. 

“So?” I ask, my eyes finally meeting his, but the sight I’m met with is a lot different than the one I’m expecting. He’s slightly red in the face, his hands fidgeting in his lap- quite different from the more composed version I’d seen of him. 

“Is there something wrong?” I ask, quickly, feeling even more vulnerable as I stood there, half naked in front of a blushing man. 

“No, no!” He sputters. “I’m sorry. This is normal.” He gulps a bit and gives me a quick once over. “Sorry, I’ll be normal.” He clears his throat again and nods more definitively. “This one is nice. It’s simple.” He replies, as diplomatically as I’ve heard him. “Black works well with your skin and hair, and I feel like it brings out your eyes.” 

I nod, biting my lip. “Anything I could do to make it.. more than nice?” I queried. 

He narrows his eyes in thought.  “It’s already really, really nice, but I feel like stockings, or even a garter would even the attention from your breasts, more to your legs- which already look really nice, by the way.” 

It's my turn to blush and I nod quickly. “Stockings, got it.” I say. I blow out a breath of air. “One down, two to go.” I say, absentmindedly. 

“Better go back and try the other two, then.” Spencer says, with a smile. 

I attempt to return his smile and disappear back into my room, putting on the next piece. It was red, and a bit more showy than my previous piece. It was a criss-cross, cut-out lingerie. Lines of maroon fabric danced around my skin in a way that exposed the curve of my breasts, and connected to a simple, red thong. I walked out quicker than last time, a little less nervous now that the initial nervousness of appearing naked in front of him had faded. 

Despite my nervousness fading, it seemed like his had only increased. I’d only caught a glimpse of it in my hurried departure from my room to his line of sight, but had he.. been adjusting his crotch area?

 No. No. I mean, maybe he was turned on, but that was a completely normal reaction to a half-naked girl in front of a man. To my knowledge, Spencer hadn’t dated anyone in 2 years either, so it was completely possible he also had pent-up desires. This was normal. Spencer Reid did not feel the same way for me, not in the same way as I did for him. 

He quickly looks up and his hands are by his side in record speed. “This one is.. Wow.” He marvels, his eyes boring into my body. “Your breasts. They look great.” 

I can’t help the giggle that escapes me, a part of me secretly delighted that even if this was friendly, Spencer was enamored with my body in the way I’d always wished he would be. 

“Was that too much?” Spencer questions, upon hearing my laugh. “I’m only being honest. Your breasts look nice in this one. My eyes immediately went there with this piece.” 

I smile. “No, no. That’s what I need from you, anyway. That’s what I want my date to do too, anyway.” I say, dismissing his worries. 

“Right. Your date.” He says, curtly. 

I raise an eyebrow at the snippy reply, but don’t think much of it. “So.. the last one then?” 

“Yep. The last one.” 

“Right..” I mumble, going back to my room, slightly confused by the sudden change in demeanor, but ready to get this over with nonetheless. 

The last piece was a lot more revealing, in the sense that my nipples were exposed from the get-go with this one. A lavender slip, with transparent lace covering the breasts, and the silky fabric stopping right below my crotch. It was a bit more daring, but I still enjoyed the way it framed my curves, my hips, and my breasts. I wondered what Spencer would think, and out of modesty, I placed both my hands over my nipples, wanting to show the lingerie without fully exposing myself to him. 

I walk out, and this time, his gaze is intense. More so than I’d ever seen him in our years of friendship. 

“Spence..?” I ask, when he’s silent for a beat too long.

“Turn around.” He says, firmly, and I find myself listening instantly, baring my back to him, and no doubt he’s focusing on the way the fabric wrapped around my ass, leaving me slightly flustered and more on display than I’d ever felt tonight. 

“Spencer? Come on. Say something. Feeling a bit like cattle right now.” I voice, laughing a little nervously.

When I hear his voice again, I nearly jump out of my skin because he’s right behind me, his hands ghosting across my bare shoulders. 

“Don’t go.” He whispers, his hot breath fanning around my neck, sending shivers up my spine. 

I’m too nervous to turn around, so I keep my hands planted firmly on my breasts and murmur out my confusion. 

“What?” 

“Don’t go.” He repeats, more firmly this time, and I can feel his hand moving to grip my hip, orienting me to face him. “Please.” 

“Why not?” I ask, softly, my eyes wide as I try to read his expression. His pupils were dilated to the size of saucers, and I could feel his hands moving to cup my face, bringing us even closer. 

“I’d be an idiot to have not at least tried.” He whispers. “I’m sorry for doing this now. I’m sorry if this ruins everything. But I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t try.” 

I feel my confusion bubbling up, my eyebrows furrowing a little bit. “Why.. what is this? Is this because of the lingerie?” I ask, my lips parting slightly. 

“No. God no.” I can see him emphatically shaking his head at my rumination. “This has been coming for a long time.” He murmurs. “I thought I could ignore it, but I can’t. I can’t physically stand the thought of someone worshiping you the way I’d like to.” He rasps out, and I feel my heart jump, my breath coming out faster. 

When I’m silent, unable to respond,  his fingers run across my lips. “Can I kiss you?” He whispers. 

I nod, and it’s like he’s been waiting all night, and then some. His grip on my face tightens and he brings me in for a searing, earth-shattering kiss. His lips move over mine desperately, and I feel his grip shifting to bring my hands off my breasts, and to replace them with his own, his hands now pawing and squeezing at the flesh, which draws a soft moan from me. 

He throws his head back at the noise, leaning to kiss my neck. “Fuck yes.” He mumbles, seemingly goaded on by the noises slipping through my lips. “I’ve wanted this for so long.” He groans out, to no one in particular, just wanting to get the words out there somehow. 

I nod rapidly, and his hands are on my hips again, guiding me to the couch and laying me down. I move easily in his grasp,  a slight gasp escaping me as he climbs on top. His thumb goes to graze my jaw, leaning in for another kiss. It’s less rushed this time, slow and passionate. His tongue darts out to swipe over my bottom lip, and I open my mouth easily for him, reveling in the sweetness of how he tasted. 

He breaks off the kiss and moves down, kissing my breast between the lace. His tongue goes out to wet the fabric, and I’m arching my back at the sensation of the rough lace and the warm wetness now rubbing against the sensitive skin.

“You taste so good.” He mumbles. “God. Why did I wait so long?” 

“No clue.” I whimper out, desperately. “But don’t stop.” 

“I’m not stopping.” He says, gruffly, moving to bunch up the fabric of the slip until it pooled around my waist, exposing my dripping cunt to him. 

“I can’t stand the thought of another man touching you like this.” He whispers, his finger running up and down my wet folds, causing me to moan out needily. 

“Shh, shh, baby.” He murmurs. “You’ll get what you want soon enough.” 

Without warning, he easily slides two fingers inside me, and I can’t help but wonder if he was made for me. Given the way he effortlessly reached that spongy spot so deep inside me, I was compelled to say yes. The action prompted me to release a string of desperate moans and whimpers, increasing in octave with every second he pumped the digits in and out of me. 

“Yeah, you like that?” He mumbles, almost entranced with the way my cunt was sucking him in, tightening around his finger with each second he continued. 

“Yes. Yes, oh God.” I moan out, my eyes squeezing shut. 

“Open your eyes.” he demands, his thumb now darting out to rub harsh, tight circles on my clit. “I want to see your face when you come on my fingers.” 

My eyes snap open, and I can’t help it when I release another moan and feel my orgasm absolutely shred through me. My hips raise in an attempt to move off Spencer’s fingers, but he manages to follow my movement, nursing me through my orgasm, and watching every second of it. 

When it's over, he removes his finger and brings it up to his lips, sensually tasting my release right in front of me, never breaking eye contact- and the sight itself makes me need him all over again. 

I pull him in by the collar of his shirt, and my hands move to remove his buttons, wanting to feel his skin on mine. He laughs a bit and admonishes me, removing my shaky fingers. 

“Let me.” He mumbles, leaning back between my spread legs, and removing the clothing, before moving to his belt. 

I bite my lip as he hovers over me, and kiss him again. I can’t get enough of him. He’s all I wanted for so long, and here he is- mirroring my desire in the way I’d always hoped he would. 

“No man-” He breathes out, in between kisses, “could do this for you.” 

I nod in affirmation, continuing to kiss him. No argument there. 

“No man deserves to.” He adds, possessively, and it’s enough to make me clench around nothing, and I know at that point I’m more desperate for him than I had been the whole night. 

“Spence, please.” I groan out. “Need you.” 

He understands immediately and wastes no time, pulling himself out from his boxers, giving himself a few tugs before pushing inside of me, groaning as he feels my warm, wet walls grasp onto his cock. 

He remains there for a second, allowing me to adjust to his size. When he looks at my face again, and I nod, he starts to move, pulling out until only his tip remains inside of me, before slamming in. My jaw drops in a silent scream, and my hands go to grip his shoulders, and with the confirmation I was enjoying myself, he set on a ruthless pace, snapping his hips over, and over again, until I was reduced to a babbling mess in front of the man. 

He’s all I can feel at this point. His hands on my breasts, my hips, before he eventually rests both hands on either side of me and envelops me in his being. I can smell him, and the familiar scent only serves to tighten the coil in my stomach, reminding me that this was someone I’d loved so deeply for so long. Someone who was interwoven into the fiber of my being, and I know this is all I want, and all I’ll ever want. 

As we both feel our releases coming on at an alarming pace, he leans up to kiss me one more time, moaning against my mouth. I feel myself whimper before I feel my walls contract around his cock, my orgasm causing my back to arch even closer to him. The clamping of my cunt seems to drive him to finish too, and a warmth fills my deepest point as he groans into my ear, pulling out and lying against me. The two of us are panting, sweat sticking to both of our bodies and hair, lost in the post-sex haze and enjoying the proximity. 

He kisses my jaw and I giggle out and give a soft moan. “God.” I whisper. 

“Yeah.” He murmurs against my skin, and I can feel his smile. “Are you canceling your date then?” He says, a slight bit of glee in his voice. 

I giggle a little, finding his delight adorable and endearing. “Yes, Spencer. Obviously.” I murmur. 

“Good.” He whispers, laying his head on my chest. There’s a lull of quiet as my hands stroke through his hair, smoothing it out from our illicit activities just a moment ago. I can hear his grin as he breaks the silence. 

“Guess you could say I liked this piece the best.” 

hiii!! omg. this took a while. yes this is more of a valentines day fic and its a bit late but hey!! got it out in february. this was actually written for @imagining-in-the-margins new beginnings challenge, so go ahead and check that out when you can. i hope you guys like this one. as usual, please reblog, like, comment, and show your support any way you can. thank you for reading, and i hope it was enjoyable <333 ty ty ty!!

[offbrand-deltatraveler]

You ever just wanna pick someone up, and cause them so much immeasurable pain that they die from shock before you even get the chance to properly kill them

[wileys-russo]

leah, training, “can i sleep on you please?” or something like that

just one more II l.williamson

"oh no leah come on do we have to!" you groaned as your fiancé clicked into netflix and loaded up yet another season of the crown.

"yes! babe, this is educational and entertaining." the blonde patted your knee with a grin as you groaned even louder and slumped down deeper into the sofa.

"leah i hate to break it to you but as an australian i have zero interest in the royal family, or their arguments over tea trades and affairs!" you scoffed, you respected that the blonde had an illustrious interest in it however that respect lessened when she tried forcing it onto you.

the pair of you had been together for years now and somehow you'd managed to scrape by mostly unscathed, growing very able to block out her ramblings with hums and nods which seemed to appease her.

but then beth just had to go and get her into the crown, interrupting the calm and steady flow of your home routine and especially your once sacred movie nights.

no more would you be curled up together, sharing commentary and laughter and an occasional kiss, arguing over who got the last handful of popcorn, half of the bowl littering the ground where you'd been tossing it at each other trying to catch it in your mouths.

no now you had to try and stay awake through the gruelingly boring slow burned torture that was this show and leahs obsession with it, fighting to keep your eyes open and having to put up with leahs 'tests' that you were paying attention.

you'd tried to leave her to it, going to watch a movie or a show of your own in the bedroom but the moodiness and sulking and the pouts and the dramatic sighs that would echo out for hours from the living room just weren't worth it.

"okay baby, its eleven and we have to be up for the morning session at six, we can't be late again!" you decided for the pair of you, reaching for the remote and quirking an eyebrow when leah quickly snatched it back.

"leah-" "just one more! you can go to bed, but i have to finish this season." "lee there's three more episodes in the season! you may as well come to bed with me now, and watch them tomorrow afternoon when we get back." you tried to bargain but it was no use with the stubborn blonde who firmly shook her head, remote still held tightly to her chest.

"fine! you're a grown woman, you can make your own choices. one more leah, don't be stupid." you warned sternly as your fiance hummed with a firm nod. "just one more pretty girl, i promise."

"goodnight, your highness!" you mocked, pressing your lips to hers a few times as she squeezed your hips, nipping at your bottom lip for the teasing comment.

only as you woke suddenly around four in the morning needing to use the bathroom, you realised maybe you should have fought a little harder to get leah to come to bed with you, the defenders side still empty.

"for fuck sakes." you grumbled tiredly, wiping the sleep from the corner of your eye and swinging out of bed, stomping off to the living room where sure enough the blonde was hanging half off the sofa with her mouth wide open.

she choked on air and hit the floor with a thump as you smacked her in the face with a cushion, gasping as she sat up and found you to be glaring down at her.

"why the hell would you do that jesus christ woman are you trying to put me into cardiac arrest!?" leah clutched her chest and exhaled shakily. "leah it is four in the fucking morning, get your ass into bed right now!" you growled pointing behind you as the taller girl got to her feet, trudging off still grumbling under her breath.

"i swear to god leah you better get up when that alarm goes off tomorrow, if you refuse i'll leave you here and go by myself." you warned seriously getting into bed beside her and smacking away her hands which tried to draw your body into hers.

"seriously?" "seriously, goodnight williamson." "you know a few more months and you'll be a williamson." "well i haven't said i do yet." "hey!"

~

"nope!" your hand banged down on the table with a loud smack causing the blonde across from you to shoot upwards where her head had once been resting on the cafeteria table.

"i warned you leah." you took a bite of toast as the girl whined and buried her face in her hands. "long night then eh?" beth teased as she joined the pair of you, steph, lia and laura not far behind.

"this is your fault!" you poked at the girls chest accusingly who scoffed. "me? what did i do!" she frowned as once again your hand smacked down against the table causing leah to jolt and sit upright again.

"got her into that awful show that she stayed up until four in the morning watching. its taken over our house, our date nights, our dinner conversations, you're a menace!" you huffed, stabbing at your eggs and shoving them into your mouth.

"what show?" "the crown! she's addicted!"

"oo what season are you up to? i really liked-" steph started excitedly, falling short at the dirty glare you sent her in response. "stephanie you're supposed to be on my side!" you scowled making the older girl grin, reaching over to shove your head to the side.

"nah, where's the fun in that?" "traitor to your own country." "aw does it make you mad?" the brunette cooed pinching your cheek as you swatted her hand away, everyone finishing up their food as leah fought to stay awake, munching away on her toast.

"baby please, let me just take a little nap, i'll say i need physio or something." your fiance grumbled as you all filed out of the cafeteria heading for the change rooms, the air ablaze with chatter.

"nope, not a chance. i already warned them!" you shook your head firmly with a slight smile at the way your fiance threw her head back with a groan, moping after you into the change rooms where everyone was already swapping over their trainers to cleats.

"come on, can i sleep on you please? just five minutes." the blonde slumped over into you, grabbing onto your shirt and pressing her face into your neck.

"i love you. you're so pretty. and i'm so tired!" leah whined as you unhooked her fingers from the material of your training top. "well you should have listened to your pretty fiance when she told you to come to bed." you pouted mockingly, kissing her cheek and bending down to lace up your boots.

~

"oi watch it kyra!" leah yelped, ducking the ball which was booted at her head where she'd been leaning against the goal post in between drills. "sorry leah!" the brunette grinned showing she was anything but, alessia grabbing her in a headlock as you snickered.

"what did you do?" steph appeared beside you with a knowing look at the amused smile on your face, having seen it many many times in the years she'd known you and played beside you for country and club.

"me? nothing!" you gasped with mock offence, steph humming and staring you down as your grin widened. "i might have slipped kyra a little money to make sure leah stays...sharp, today." you admitted with a sly smile, steph shaking her head though it wasn't with disbelief.

"oh she's going to kill you, pest." "well she can't do that if she's asleep now, can she stephanie?"

"kyra i swear to god if you kick that ball at me one more time i'm going to shove it down your throat!"

[fushitoru]

the importance of skincare a gojo satoru fic

PAIRING: gojo x reader SUMMARY: worried about your boyfriend's skin health, you're set out on a mission to teach him about skincare, sitting him down and rubbing products over his face while seated on his lap. only, he convinces you that he has something to teach as well about facials. just not the kind you expected. WARNINGS: NOT EDITED, oral (m!rec), gojo cums all over reader's face, nsfw, FLUFF (a lot of it), established relationship, gojo is a nuisance, gn!reader, i have writer's block and this helped, silly little thought based off this drabble

“Applying sunscreen on my boyfriend because otherwise, this is what we’ll look like when we’re 60.”

You gasped out loud, despite being alone. Rolling around on the couch you were lazing in, you stared at the paused screen in front of you: a woman and her boyfriend, except she’s finely aged with a few wrinkles, and he looks like an extremely wrinkled potato. Suddenly, your mind flashes back to all the moments your boyfriend, Satoru, would scroll on his phone while you finished your nighttime skin care routine.

“Baby, you really should start doing some skincare.” You give him a sideways glance while rubbing snail mucin all over your face.

Satoru looks up from whatever nonsensical reel on his page half heartedly and observes you as you pat your hands all over your face and neck. “I wash my face.”

“Using your 13-in-1 wash?”

“I don’t use 13-in-1 wash.” Satoru fully looks up, frowning. Sassily, he adds, “And what you’re rubbing all over your face looks like cum.”

That’s as much prodding you’ve done to convince your boyfriend to adopt better facial hygiene, but today was different. You were not about to let your pretty boyfriend get skin cancer or age like milk.

The door opened, as Satoru stepped into your apartment. “Hi, baby!” You perked up from washing your dishes, your form barely able to peek over the kitchen counters over to him, at your doorstep. He can hear pitter patters of your feet as you make your way to him. Then your warmth envelops him, smelling of dish soap and rose. He gives a little mwah! to the top of your head while murmuring, “I bought crepes for you today. Extra Nutella and everything.”

But rather than excitedly reaching for the crepes, you stayed in his hold, hugging onto him tight and stuffing your face in his shirt, breathing in deeply as if to memorize his scent. Satoru confusedly looks down at you, hesitantly coming up to rub your scalp to give you head scratches with his free hand. “Are you okay?” 

“Satoru, we have to talk,” you mumble into his chest. 

Alarmed, Satoru looks down at you. “Oh my god,” Satoru nervously exclaims, “at least let me put down our crepes before you give me a heart attack.” Your only response is to nuzzle your face further into his chest, while he grabs your hand, unwraps you from him, and leads you to your couch. He puts the crepes down on the dinner table and grabs both of your hands, pouting and frowning slightly in that sweet, ignorant way of his. “What happened? Did I do something wrong?”

You glanced up at him, staring in distress. “Babe, you need to do your skincare.”

“This is what you wanted to talk about?” Satoru looks at you confused. “I thought it was something serious.” You almost want to sob at the way he looks like a confused kitten. You don’t understand why you’re so hung up over that one TikTok—although, your menstrual cycle app did say menstruation was near—but it definitely changed your outlook on your boyfriend’s skin health. 

“This is serious.” You were visibly growing more and more listless until you suddenly make the decision to stand up and make your way somewhere towards the bathroom. 

When you came back, you had your hefty Chanel purse, one that Satoru gifted you for your 2nd year anniversary. You set it down in the space between you and Satoru with a plop! as you began to rummage through the contents to find your essential skincare items. Dragging him to the bathroom, you command him to wash his face. And, to his credit, he does go through all the motions, albeit a little confused. 

A few minutes later, you sit him down on the couch—with your skincare items in hand—and take your seat on his lap. Satoru’s still a little confused as to what’s going on, but—to his credit—you aren’t doing much explanation, either. 

“Baby, I’m really confused,” Satoru is now putting his hands on your hips, pulling you closer to his torso as you lather different creams on your hands. Any further questions from him are stopped as you gently rub them all over his face, targeting his T-zone and cheeks. 

“I saw a TikTok of this girl ‘nd her boyfriend, ‘Toru,” you explain, lathering his face. “He doesn’t do his sunscreen, so he’s going to look like an overboiled tomato when he’s 60. Didn’t want the same for you.” 

 You continue to reach for another bottle, until you realize it’s set too far down the table for you to reach. Naturally, Satoru reaches it for you and puts it in your hands, frowning. “You made me so worried. I thought I did something wrong.”

“You are doing something wrong. You’re doing your pretty skin wrong.” You were scowling, but your hands were sweetly patting Satoru’s face in a way that made him relax. After a long day of dealing with Yaga, he appreciated your soothing hands massaging the tension out of his face. It was never easy dealing with dissaproving old fucks. 

Deciding to adjust his posiiton, Satoru crossed his arms behind his head, laying back onto the couch instead of sitting. Closing his eyes, he felt you straddling him in an effort to reach across his torso to his face to continue your pampering. You both fell into a comfortable silence as you droned on about what you were putting onto his face. A serum that smelled good. “This is hyaluronic acid serum. This’ll keep your face nice and hydrated.” A cream that felt cold on Satoru’s skin. “This is niacinamide, because I know you picked on your acne and boogers when you were going through puberty.” He wanted to protest, but it was so hard to when you pair the insult with a small smooch on his nose. Something that smelled harsher than the others. “This is retinol, and it’ll help you prevent wrinkles.”

In the midst of your teaching, he cracked open an eye and grabbed both of your hands by the wrist, seemingly in thought. “Wait, babe. You’re missing something.” You blinked. “What?” 

“Well, there’s this thing called facials." The beginnings of a smug smile bloomed across his face. It’s really good for your skin, ‘nd I have just the thing with me."

“‘Toru, you are so stupid,” you whined, licking up and down his cock and balls, giving little kisses to his pink and throbbing length.

“Shhh, baby, this is good fo’ you, I promise.” Sounds of plap! plap! echoed throughout the room as your boyfriend slapped his cock against your cheeks. He groaned, taking in the arousing sight of you: on your knees, only wearing his shirt. His cock hardens at the thought of you, his pretty little girlfriend, spending all day in his clothing. He could see your cute little baby blue panties covering your ass as his shorts rode up in your attempts to take his cock deeper in your mouth. As you continued to slobber on his cock, deepthroating him, he could continually smell your arousal, moaning as he realized you must be ruining your underwear.

“Awww, I can smell you, sweetheart. Your little pussy getting wet from just sucking my cock? I’m not even touching you,” Satoru pouted in faux pity and cooed, patting your head while he continually fed you his cock. 

You tried to protest. “Mmmff—” 

“Shhhh,” Satoru had a cocky smile on his face as he shushed you. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, baby.” With that, he lightly grabbed your hair, looking down at you for permission. When you nodded, he began face fucking you in earnest, cock throbbing as your hot, wet mouth enclosed around him. Your tongue laving over his sensitive spots made him groan. “Your mouth feel sooo good. What a good girl, taking my cock, slobbering all over it—fuck.”

He felt himself coming closer. “Baby,” he groaned, “you’re about to make me cum. Gotta give you your facial, right? Make you all nice and pretty?” You whined, tears running down your cheeks because of your stuffed mouth. It sent vibrations up and down his cock, making him come even closer. “Fuuuuck. Fuck, I’m coming.” Satoru pulled out of your mouth, pumping his cock onto your face, your tongue stretched and your eyes directly on his. Rubbing your tongue softly on his tip was what made him reach his climax; he moaned as he splurted long and think ropes of cum, coating your cheeks, forehead, and tongue. It was all so messy. Even after being done, Satoru was continually rubbing his cum into your skin with his cock. 

“Wheeew.” Satoru giggled, reaching down to put you on his lap. “Looks like you got your skincare.”

“Satoru, please give me a tissue. Right now. Your cum is dripping all over my face.”

“Aw, don’t be like that,” he whined. To your annoyance, he only further rubbed in the creamy substance over your face, using his palms and fingers to spread it. 

Disgusted, you knew what to say. “You’re never getting head from me ever again.”

Satoru had never scrambled to the bathroom faster.

a/n lol he's so stupid. this is the only thing i could force my brain to write but now i'm locked in and finishing all my drafts fr

[froggiewrites]

Wanting

Pairing: Sanji x Reader

NSFW

Summary: You have never wanted anyone more than you want Sanji. You don't want to admit it, but as you end up alone together on a new island, the universe seems determined to make you. Warnings: Smut, There Was Only One Bed, Possessiveness (a bit from both Sanji and Reader), Reader really matching Sanji's energy on the horniness here Word Count: 5.6k Crossposted from Ao3

You had never wanted anyone more than you had wanted Sanji.

You hated to admit that tragic, embarrassing fact, but it was true all the same. You wanted him. You had always known you’d liked Sanji, from the moment you met and he threw himself at your feet, knew you found him endearing and silly, but wanting him? That was different. Wanting was real. Wanting was demanding. Wanting had you pacing the deck after yet another dirty dream about your silly little cook, trying to calm down enough to be able to face him at breakfast.

Your bare feet hit the grass of the Sunny’s deck as you pray that this will pass, that you’ll be able to see your dear friend without yearning for him so deeply it threatens to rip a hole in your chest, but every time you close your eyes you can still feel his lips against yours and see his face twisted in pleasure. You huff with frustration, throwing yourself down to lay on your back and stare at the sky. Maybe the morning sun will burn out your retinas and you won’t have to worry about seeing his face at all anymore.

“You alright down there?” His voice is still raspy from sleep, and your eyes shoot open as you use all the willpower you have not to rub your thighs together.

“Sanji!” Your voice is an octave higher than you would have liked to admit. “Hi! Good morning! Um, yeah. I’m uh–I’m fine. Peachy.”

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about his hands reaching down to grab you. Don’t think about how his dick would feel in your mouth.

Fuck. Damnit.

“Are you sure? You’re a little red.” You finally look up to see his face, his hair a little mussed and his eyes softened with concern. You want to kiss him. God, you want to kiss him.

“I’m okay, I’m just, uh. A little hot. That’s all.” You focus anywhere but his eyes, those beautiful kind eyes, because you know if you focus on his eyes you’ll do something you’ll regret. Or maybe you wouldn’t regret it at all, because you’d finally know what his lips feel like.

No. Not now. Not ever. You are not all hot and bothered over Sanji. Not your dear friend Sanji, who is looking at you with so much care it makes you physically ache.

“Do you want to come inside? I can make you something to cool you down.”

You picture being alone together in the kitchen, his practiced hands and talented fingers moving with such purpose as he slices and dices, just to make something to please you. You picture those fingers moving with a different purpose, working for a different pleasure. If you go in that kitchen you fear you’ll do something you can’t take back. “I’m alright! I just need to lay here.” Your voice definitely just audibly cracked.

His face falls a little at the idea that you won’t come with him. You try not to let your heart flutter at the idea he wants you around. That he wants you alone with him. “Alright, well come on in if you change your mind, okay? I’ll do–make. I’ll make anything you want.”

What was that?

Your imagination, surely.

“Of course, Sanji. I’ll let you know if I need you–anything.”

“Right.”

“Yeah.”

You stare at each other for a moment before he turns and walks into the kitchen without even a goodbye, and if you didn’t know better you would think the tips of his ears were red. Surely not, though.

You cover your face and groan, rolling onto your front to block out the world. You hear sets of footsteps pass as your other crewmates wake up and decide to leave you to your misery instead of asking. A small mercy, but one you’re grateful for.

Once you finally manage to drag yourself off of the ground, your thoughts filled with simple, unsexy things like cold showers and paint drying, you make your way to the kitchen for breakfast. You come in only on the tail end of the meal and conversation, hearing Nami’s voice dictating how things are going to go on the next island.

“—need to make sure we aren’t separated. There’s an island-wide curfew, and we need to make sure that none of us break it. We don’t want to risk drawing attention to ourselves.” You can’t see her face but you are familiar with the scathing side-eye she’s almost certainly giving Zoro and Luffy right now.

“Why are you looking at me?” Zoro’s voice is defensive in the way it only gets when he knows whatever he’s being accused of is inarguably true.

Nami sighs. “It’s too early for this. Anyway, we’re going to pair up to make sure no one gets stranded alone on the island just in case we miss curfew. I wrote all of our names on pieces of paper, and I’m going to draw–”

“Why do you get to draw?”

“Yeah I wanna draw! I’m the captain!”

“It doesn’t matter who–”

You tune them out for your sanity as you retrieve your plate from Sanji’s outstretched hands. He gives you a soft, sincere smile that cuts to your core. He looks so wonderful like that, when he isn’t trying to woo you and he’s just being…Sanji.

“I kept it warm for you.” He leans closer so you can hear him over the din of voices behind you. Your eyes are level with his chest, his shirt unbuttoned halfway so you can see his entire torso. You need to look away. You need to stop ogling.

You don’t.

“Thank you,” you murmur distractedly. You don’t know if you’re thanking him for the breakfast or for the clear view of his happy trail.

His chest gets closer, and you feel his warm breath against your ear. “Of course. Anything for you.” He’s so close. You could so easily put your lips against his neck. You could bite him right now, make him make such wonderful noises right here in front of everyone.

“Hey, are you two even listening?” Nami’s annoyed voice rings out from the table behind you.

You both stand at attention like navy soldiers the moment she calls for you. Her tone means business. That silly argument earlier seems like it soured her mood for the entire day.

“Of course, Nami!” Your tone rings false, and she gives you a dour look that you shrink under.

“Ugh. Whatever. Important bits: we’re staying paired up on this island. Be back before dark. Don’t draw attention to yourselves. Got it?”

“Yes, Nami!” You both chorus.

“Great. I’ll start pulling names.”

Your captain pouts. “But I–”

“I’m pulling names.”

“Awww.”

The pairs came quickly: Brook and Usopp, Franky and Robin, Luffy and Chopper, and Nami and Zoro (to Sanji’s audible displeasure). You laugh along with everyone else for just a moment at Sanji’s fit before you realize what it means.

“God, if it pisses you off that much then just switch partners with me!” Zoro’s voice is filled with annoyance, his eye turning to you.

Sanji pauses for a moment, his eyes finding yours, and you can see pure and utter euphoria hit him when he realizes. The fury at Zoro’s suggestion hits a moment after. “No way in hell, mosshead!”

The bickering continues, as it always does, and you try to calm your thoughts once again. A day alone with him. A date, perhaps. You imagine at first walking hand in hand while shopping, stopping in a cafe to enjoy together, and other simple domestic things that make a small lovesick smile make its way onto your face.

And then you remember your dream, hear his lovely voice cry out in a broken whine, and your silly daydreams turn to dark alleys and frantic, fumbling hands taking what they need before you’re caught. You imagine getting to run your hands down his torso, following the teasing trail of hair you saw earlier down, wrapping your hands around him and making him whimper.

You stop your thoughts because you are in front of an audience and are going to lose your sanity if you allow yourself another moment of this.

Sanji and Zoro have stopped fighting, and the crew is pairing off as everyone decides their tasks for today. Zoro has been designated Nami’s shopping bag holder, and his protests fall on deaf ears as the conversations continue without him. You and Sanji will be grocery shopping, of course. He has the list ready to go, which means all you need to do is keep him company and try not to get jealous when he inevitably hits on a stranger. You can do that, grit your teeth and give tight-lipped smiles that hopefully hide the taste of iron on your tongue. Maybe if you’re lucky she’ll reject him, refuse to give him the time of day, and he’ll turn to you as he licks his wounds. He’ll find comfort in you, and you’ll gladly give it. You can ease the sting of rejection as he eases the yearning ache in your chest.

As the crew moves to leave the kitchen, Zoro begins to lean over to you, presumably to make some gruff joke about how miserable your day will be with Sanji, wearing a smug grin hiding the boyish amusement he gets from teasing the man he would never admit is his friend. Before you can hear it, give him a soft laugh and a roll of the eyes, your vision is filled with the soft blue of a slightly unbuttoned shirt and there’s a large, gentle hand on the small of your back.

“I said hands off, mosshead.” Sanji’s voice holds more hostility than you’d expect. Most days even their worst of fights have an air of levity to them that they would never admit, but this has real anger behind it, venom spitting from his lips in a way you had never heard. The hand on your back presses firmly, commandingly, in a way that makes your knees weak. “Let’s go, angel.” His voice softens, then, not filled with the candied sweetness he saves for his usual flirtations, but the type of tender sincerity and affection saved only for a small inner circle you are forever grateful to be a part of.

“What, I can’t talk to her? Possessive pervert.” There’s less anger behind Zoro’s words and more confusion, but you can hardly hear it as the door slams firmly shut behind you. Sanji’s breathing is labored with anger, his shoulders drawn tight, but you hardly notice over the feeling of his fingertips on your back, brushing just above your ass, so close to moving lower. His hand moves to your hip instead, grabbing firmly, not enough to bruise but enough that you couldn’t leave if you wanted to.

“Sanji? Are you alright?” Your voice is hesitant as you try to keep the lust out of it, but he seems to take it as discomfort. His eyes widen, his hand immediately leaving you, and you can’t help but let out a soft whimper at the loss. He, of course, takes this as pain.

“Oh god, darling did I hurt you? I’m so sorry, I–”

“You didn’t hurt me, Sanji, I’m fine. I was just worried about you.” You give him a reassuring smile, teeth only slightly clenched from concentrating on anything other than how strong he felt, on how good it felt to be held, on the feeling that his fingerprints have been burned onto your skin even though the fabric of your shirt.

His face is troubled, his eyes watery from even the idea of hurting you, but he relaxes when you take his hand in yours, gently rubbing his knuckles with your thumb. “I’m fine. I just can’t stand the idea of you running off with mosshead and him getting you lost. He’d probably leave you alone in the woods somewhere.” The words ring falsely in your ears. He hates to admit it, but he trusts Zoro to protect you, no matter the situation. The safety of the crew is one of the few things they’ll always agree on. He does not and would never think Zoro would leave you for dead.

“He wouldn’t do that.”

Sanji goes quiet, unable to bring himself to disagree, to lie to your face a second time. What was he thinking? “Yeah, I…I know.” His voice is weak and strained, but before you can pry further he starts to walk ahead, pulling the grocery list out of his pocket, clearly shutting down the conversation. You stare longingly at his back for a moment, at his broad shoulders, before following in his footsteps.

Shopping is tense, at first, as he tries and fails to calm down, but you eventually find a rhythm. You both fall into each other, a brush of the hands here, a hand on the arm there, the pull so magnetic you cannot help but follow it. Eventually you find yourselves walking hip to hip, you holding his arm, pressing it to your chest incredibly deliberately as he tries and fails to pretend he doesn’t notice. He keeps sneaking glances at you out of the corner of his eye, and you revel in the attention, preening under his wanting gaze. Your thoughts are about nothing but him, nothing but his shining blue eyes lingering on your chest, nothing but the hard stops he keeps making so your tits press even harder into his bicep.

He’s looking at you. God, he’s looking at you, no one else. Your chest tightens at the idea it could always be like this, that he could be yours.

Neither of you notice how late it’s gotten until the sun is already more than halfway behind the horizon. You’re reluctant to break the tension as he pulls you closer when you walk past a group of rowdy drunks, but you remember Nami’s warnings and your blood runs a little cold.

“Um, Sanji? Do you know what time it is?”

He checks his watch with no sense of urgency, clearly not grasping the situation. “It’s almost nine, why?”

“Curfew is at nine thirty, isn’t it? And the ship is…” you think for a moment, “about an hour away?”

He stops in his tracks, causing your chest to press against him again. “Ah.”

A beat of silence.

“Nami’s going to kill us.”

“I think you’re right.”

“The marines will notice us if we’re out past curfew.”

“Right again, my dear.”

“We’re fucked.”

“Mhm.”

More silence, stretching further and further as reality sinks in.

“I…guess we should find somewhere to stay?” Your voice is a little meek.

“I guess so.” He tries to keep his tone even, but there’s something almost mischievous behind it, something you can’t place. The ends of his lips twitch into an almost smile before he stops it. You don’t know what he’s thinking, but you pray it’s something perverted. Maybe today he’ll get brave and act on it and you’ll have an excuse to throw yourself at him, give into the feeling you’ve been fighting all day.

You both attempt to find an inn with two open rooms, but the first three are fully booked with drunks who have beaten you to it. The curfew inches ever closer, and you still have nowhere to stay. If you stay on the street and get caught by the marines, you know Nami will kick your ass for alerting them to your presence. She probably already will for how long you’re delaying your journey. You focus on Sanji’s arm resting around your shoulders to ground yourself and ignore the dread creeping in and settling in your bones.

You finally find an inn that will take you, but you immediately run into a problem. Or what you’ll pretend is a problem.

“Please tell me you have availability.” Sanji’s voice is tinged with desperation as the clock ticks down.

 The woman working the desk seems exhausted, having clearly dealt with much worse customers than yourself earlier. “Is a queen bed okay?”

“A queen bed, like singular?” You put on a good show of acting confused and a little upset, hiding your giddiness well.

“Oh, are you two not–” Her eyes are lingering on where you’re connected, your arms wrapped around his. “I’m sorry, I assumed–well. Um. We only have one room left, I assumed you would want to share it.”

“One room?” Sanji’s voice gets a little loud, and a stranger would mistake this for anger or upset, but you can hear excitement in his tone. He glances at you again, at your face, at your chest, at your legs, admiring you for just a moment, certainly imagining something that would make you flush. “Only one room?”

“I’m sorry, there’s nothing else I can do. We really only have one. If that doesn’t work–”

“It works.” You both speak quickly. You pretend you don’t see him visibly fist pump when he thinks you aren’t looking. He pretends he doesn’t see you excitedly rock on your feet, a visible twinkle in your eye. The woman hands you a set of keys, and you’re both off.

As you walk to the room, you talk around it, pretending you both aren’t absolutely thrilled by this turn of events. 

“I can’t believe they only have one room. I know it’s busy, but this place is massive. It’s hard to believe it’s fully booked.” You try to sound annoyed, but a giggle makes its way into your voice as you imagine being tucked into the single bed with Sanji’s arms around you.

“It’s ridiculous. And with only a queen bed? Not even two twins? Or a king? It’s the most inconvenient it possibly could be.” He can’t fight his smile when he says only a queen, as he imagines both of you having nowhere to run except into each other. He could cry at the idea of having an excuse to hold you close, to feel you pressed against him with your head resting on his chest. It’s so domestic he could pretend it was real.

You both perfectly match each other’s steps in this liar’s dance even when the door closes, even when there’s not a single person to call you on it but each other. You cannot admit that you want this, out of fear that it might shatter the feeling of giddy excitement surrounding you both. You cannot put to words what is happening, lest you make it real. Real has worries attached to it, questions of the future and what this all means and what it changes. If you stay quiet you stay in the dream, where instead the only thing you have to think about is the pounding of your heart and the comforting heat of another next to you.

“I can sleep on the floor,” he says, visibly upset by the idea. He has to offer you the choice, he is a gentleman, but his eyes are pleading for you to deny the idea and welcome him into your bed.

“Don’t be silly, Sanji. You don’t need to ruin your back, there’s plenty of room for the both of us.” You leave out the internal pleading for him to come closer as soon as humanly possible. He can’t know how you may be even more desperate for him than he is for you.

“You’re an angel, my dear.” His smile now is genuinely affectionate, filled with a fondness that makes your chest ache. He looks younger like this, unburdened. “Well, let’s not wait, hm? I bet you’re exhausted.” His hands reach for the buttons of his shirt, and you watch, enraptured, as he slowly undoes each of them, revealing more and more of his body to you. You’ve seen it before, due to his favor for open silly Hawaiian shirts, but you can’t help but swallow at the sight, eyes never daring to look away. He’s so beautiful. He’s so strong.

You wonder if he could break you.

You wonder if you could break him.

He slips the shirt off easily, his hands moving down to his belt, the clink of the buckle sending a shiver down your spine and breaking you out of your trance. You can’t let him undress while you stay fully clothed. It’s rude. You let your hands slide down to the hem of your shirt, swiftly removing it, and he stops in the middle of unbuttoning his pants to stare, jaw slacked. You can see him grow hard at the sight of your chest as his eyes bore holes into you. His gaze is burning, his pupils blown out, his breathing growing heavy.

“Sanji?” You reluctantly call out to break the spell, not wanting your masquerade to end quite this soon.

“Yes? What is tit–it?” His eyes haven’t moved a centimeter, honed in on where your breasts spill over your bra.

“You’re staring.” You keep your tone teasing. His eyes finally trail up to your face, where he finds a twitching smile as you try to hold back your giggles. His expression shifts from lustful to lovestruck as his eyes soften and his smile widens.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, breathlessly.

“So are you.” His smile widens further as he finally looks away from you, suddenly bashful. His cheeks are flushed slightly pink, and you finally break and huff out a laugh. It isn’t seeing you half naked that gets him, or the idea of sharing a bed, or the lustful thoughts he’s certainly been having all day. It’s a simple compliment, not even a particularly good one, that flusters your dear cook. It makes you want to take his face in your hands and place kisses all over it, with a tenderness that would make its way under his skin, marking him as well and truly loved. It makes you want to drop to your knees and worship him, take him into your mouth and not stop until he’s utterly spent and crying from the overstimulation. It makes you want him, in every meaning of the word.

But you don’t want to break the illusion yet, still a little nervous about being the first to step over the line, so instead you slide your thumbs beneath the waistband of your jeans and quickly step out of them. You make your way to the bed, making a show of throwing yourself onto your back, bouncing a little as his eyes eagerly take in the movement of your breasts, your thighs, every inch of you. After allowing him a moment to admire, you shift to pull the blankets over yourself, tucking yourself in. You’re going to play your part. But you’re allowed a moment of fun. You look up at him, doe eyes blinking and arms outstretched welcomingly. “Sanji, aren’t you coming to bed?”

He pauses for a moment, his eyes turning to your face, and in that moment you swear you can see into his head. You see dreams of the two of you intertwined, not sexually, but just…together. You see his head resting against your chest, eyes closed in absolute bliss. You see the soft sunlight of the morning bathing you both in gold, warming you to your bones. You see a different scene, the two of you in a more intimate embrace, bodies pressing closer than you thought possible, hips moving and hands everywhere, a tender moment that almost feels like worship. You see an entire life together, every little moment, and you see Sanji’s eyes fill with tears at the idea of it.

He rips his pants off, practically diving into the bed with you, and his arms wrap around your waist like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He buries his face into your chest, nosing between your breasts, and somehow still keeping up this silly ruse, he mumbles, “This bed’s pretty small. Guess we’ll have to get even closer.” He pulls you tighter, and you’re almost sure he can’t breathe from how much he’s pressed his nose into your skin. You giggle, and you can feel him smile against you. He places a kiss right against your sternum, gentle and affectionate, before pressing one up slightly higher, then one higher than that, as he makes his way up to your neck. His facial hair rubs against your skin, the ticklish feeling making you laugh even more. He places one final kiss where your jaw meets your neck before pulling up to whisper in your ear. “Can I please kiss you? I think I’ll die if I don’t.”

“Please do,” you whine out. He doesn’t wait another moment before your lips crash together, teeth briefly clacking together in his excitement before it softens into something more tender and intimate. He groans softly into your mouth, lips parting, welcoming you in. You gladly accept, and he fully pins you beneath him and you explore each other’s mouths.

His hands slide underneath you, one pulling you upward into him as the other fumbles with the clasp of your bra. The moment it releases, he swiftly tosses it behind him, breaking your kiss to stare at your chest. His mouth is slightly agape as he pants, eyes wide, taking in the sight. He looks as though he wants to speak, but nothing comes out. The silence stretches out as he takes in every inch of your breasts, before he eventually reaches a shaking hand out to brush his fingers against your skin. He lets out a quiet breath of awe. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life. A goddess. I can’t believe this is happening.”

“You took the words out of my mouth, Sanji. This is a dream come true.” Your voice is quiet with the vulnerable admission, and his eyes leave your chest to meet yours.

“You dreamed of this?” He sounds like he really truly can’t fathom the idea.

“Dozens of times. Almost every dream I have is about you. Last night I–” You stop yourself in embarrassment, face flushing.

He leans closer with an intensity he usually saves for battle. “Last night? You dreamed about me last night?” His eyes are boring into you, stripping you bare, staring straight into your heart and soul.

“Yes,” you softly admit. “I dreamed about you last night. About this. The real thing is so much better.”

“Oh god,” he breaths out, before he kisses you again, hard and fast. His hands envelop your tits, groping and squeezing. You can’t stop yourself from keening into his mouth when his fingers brush against your nipples, and you can feel him grind against you when he hears. His hardness presses against your bare thighs, showing how badly he wants you. He grabs at you like you’ll disappear between his fingers, fade away like all of the dreams that have been haunting you.

Another pinch at your nipples makes you cry out, and you pull back, begging, “Sanji, please, more!” You want to feel his fingers inside you, his tongue, his cock. Any and everything he could give you you want, and you feel so sure that he would gladly let you take it. He would give you the heart out of his chest if you asked.

He moans as his bulge rubs against your thighs again. “Fuck, of course, angel. Whatever you want.” He slides lower, and you feel his fingers slide along the fabric covering your slit. He carefully traces a path up to your clit, lightly pressing against it through your panties, making you suck in a breath. His eyes travel between your face and his fingers, taking note of your reactions.

He eventually slides off your panties, letting out a soft noise of appreciation once he’s able to see all of you. He leans closer, mumbling something you don’t quite catch, before his mouth is on you.

“Ah, Sanji!” You cry out in surprise, your thighs clenching together, and you can feel him moan against you at the pressure. His tongue moves expertly, which you suppose makes sense; Sanji is a man who knows how to appreciate a good meal. His hands reach up to grip your thighs, not to pull them apart, but to pull you even closer, hooking your legs over his shoulders as he dives further into you. His nose brushes your clit, making you keen again, and you can feel him smile against your cunt. 

You feel a familiar tension building in your gut as his tongue shifts to your clit and he inserts a finger, then two, then three inside of you, curling in a come hither motion that makes you see stars. You get noisier and noisier as the coil tightens, and Sanji only grows more enthusiastic with every moan and cry he manages to pull from you. His hips are grinding desperately against the mattress beneath you. Your thighs continue to tighten around his head, and you worry you’ll crush him, but you imagine that’s the way he’d want to go.

With one final flick of Sanji’s tongue and push of his fingers, you come unraveled around him, nearly screaming his name as you’re hit with white-hot pleasure. His fingers work you through it, only stopping when your thighs go slack around him and you let out a soft whimper. He crawls up to see your face, to see the evidence of his work, and you can see he’s absolutely covered in your wetness, his facial hair soaked in you. His pupils are blown out, his eyes nearly entirely black and looking nearly maddened with lust. He kisses you, and you can taste yourself on his lips.

“Please, please let me feel you. I need to feel you around me. Please.” His voice is ragged as he pants, a whine behind it as he begs to fuck you.

“Please,” you whimper back.

His fingers hook below the waistband of his boxers, and he slides out of them slowly. His cock stands proudly, long and thick, leaking precum. He gives you no time to admire it, swiftly lining it up with your entrance and slowly pushing himself into you, moaning into your ear at the feeling.

“Darling, you feel heavenly,” he groans. He sits still for a moment, giving you time to adjust and just enjoying the feeling of you tightening around him. “I could never have imagined how perfect you are. The dreams never did you justice.” You try to move your hips, but his hands are holding you still. You let out a whine, pathetic and wanton, and his lips tug into a smile. “Are you ready, my dear?”

“Yes, god, yes.”

He pulls himself out slowly, before reentering a little faster, the next time a little faster than that, increasing his speed bit by bit until he’s relentlessly pounding you into the mattress. He mumbles endless praise for you that gets lost between his moans, only allowing you to make out princess and tight and perfect. The room is filled with these small praises and the sound of slapping skin. You lean up to kiss him, but he doesn’t let you, instead staring intensely into your eyes, determined to see your face when you cum.

He watches your face as your orgasm grows closer, his hips speeding up and his fingers reaching for your clit. His gaze is loving, admiring, nearly worshiping, and his words at some point turn into a prayer: for you, for him, for what you’ve created here in this room to last long after the door opens and you return back to a life where this becomes real. Your orgasm hits you harshly, making you cry out, and he watches enraptured as you come apart around him. He tries to keep his pace steady, but his hips stutter as he cums inside of you, filling you with warmth.

He stays like that, cock inside of you, eyes locked onto yours. The only sound in the room is your heaving breaths, the only sensation either of you feel is the warmth of the other grounding you here.

“I think I love you,” he murmurs. “Can I say that? Can I make it real?”

You wrap your arms around him, pulling his head to your chest, cradling him there. “Please do. I want it to be real. I want you. I love you.”

He adjusts, pulling out of you, crawling up slightly to fully make his home in your chest. His shoulders shake, and you hear a sniffle. You don’t say anything, simply running your hands gently through his hair, across his cheeks, down his back.

“I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you.” He nuzzles his face even deeper into you.

“I think I’ve wanted you just as long, even if I didn’t realize it.”

“I adore you.” His voice is thick with emotion, and you think maybe this confession is deeper and more difficult than his first. 

“I adore you too, Sanji. You’re one of the most wonderful people I’ve ever met.”

You sit there, basking in each other’s presence, enjoying a world where this gets to be real. You drift off to sleep peacefully, with the reassurance that when you wake this won’t just have been another troubling dream. Nothing is more real and grounding than his arms wrapped around you, his leg thrown over you, his lips still lightly pressed against your skin. You know you’ll see him tomorrow, shining brilliantly in the sun, and walk back hand in hand. You still dream of him, but the lovesick smile he gives you when you open your eyes is better than any dream you’ve ever had.

[lorelune]

(michael kaiser x reader // 18+ MDNI // cws: yandere kaiser, stalking, reader smokes cigarettes, toxic behaviors // wc: 2.2k)

"so you really did it?"

"did what?" you ask, exhaling a puff of cigarette smoke into the frigid air. your fingers are numb.

"break up with him!"

"kaiser?" you snort, taking another drag before speaking. "i guess? i called things off earlier today, but we weren't actually dating. so it's not like it's really a breakup."

"... sure."

your friend on the line hardly sounds convinced. but it is... true. you and michael kaiser never dated. you never had a label, never discussed any type of commitment or potential future together. though you had spent more than one weekend (try a dozen plus) at his apartment, oscillating between cuddling, fucking, and being in each other's presence's in a way that was distinctly not platonic—

you and michael kaiser were never dating. you were not together. (Regardless of him flying you out to one match in Vienna, and the another in Rome—) you weren't dating.

you never were.

you never expected to either. michael kaiser was transparently damaged, and handling it in an unproductive, destructive manner. you saw this from a mile away, but entertained your chemistry regardless. maybe it was the influence of a few drinks and a few heated arguments that got you in bed with him to begin with, despite clocking his toxic tendencies early on.

you fought a lot, for not being a couple.

care made kaiser squirrely and angry. kindness made him snap. aggression, biting and clawing— angry sex that metastasized into something carnal and closer to a fight resonated with him far more than little affections. you only saw moments of vulnerability from him when you were both fucked out and exhausted. or, when he thought you weren't looking. you felt him pet through your hair while he thought you were asleep, more than once.

you broke up with kaiser because you couldn't handle things as they were anymore.

maybe you wanted to be loved. maybe you wanted to be held, openly and tenderly. maybe, you wanted a partner and not a man with an ego problem who fucked like a god and treated you like invasive creature nine times out of ten when you showed him affectionate.

(you just want to be loved.)

the luxuries and innate chemistry of your relationship simply wasn't worth it.

so, you broke things off. over text, because it seemed the least messy.

[you]: hey, what we have isn't working for me anymore. i don't want to see you any longer. i care about you a lot, but what we have is not sustainable. i wish you all the best, michael.

(you try not to be too affectionate with your message, lest you rile him up. you want to be gentle, but not too... emotional. it's better this way.)

you block him after sending the text. clean breaks— it's kinder in the long run, isn't it? even if it hurts more in the moment.

you sigh into the receiver, tossing your cigarette butt to the side, "i mean it, we weren't ever serious."

"if you say so."

you kick at the snow beneath your feet. there's an inch or two of it on the ground, coating the cobblestones of the path you walk on. the river that cuts through your city runs, despite the cold. there's no one around, and it's peaceful beneath the amber-tinged street lights.

"you don't sound convinced."

"because i'm not." your friend pauses. "... have you seen his instagram story from today?"

"nope," you pop the word from your lips. "i blocked him."

"already?"

"immediately."

"damn. that's cold of you."

"you don't know kaiser like i do," you shake your head. it's better this way, to be cleaner.

(you have always been able to foresee the way that man would tear you apart, if you misstepped too grievously.)

"well regardless," a notification comes up on your phone. your friends has sent a screenshot of kaiser's story. "look. he flew out to your city."

your stomach drops. sure enough, the screenshot has a location stamp over a photo of kaiser's deft hands, twirling a flute of champagne from what is clearly a first class seat.

"... maybe he has a match."

(he doesn't. you know this; there's no league that plays in your city.)

"or, he's coming to see you!"

"that would be insane," you laugh. that bastard... wouldn't, would he? he is... was halfway across the world.

"it would be romantic."

"it would be insane," you repeat.

you turn on your heel, back the way your came through the parkway. your apartment is... about a mile away, maybe. it's dark and cold, but you can probably get back there quickly. you're not sure where this particular sense of haste comes from—

but it's a frantic sort of feeling.

your friend pouts, "you have no sense of romance then, i guess."

(and your friend doesn't know michael kaiser.)

anxiety pitches around between your stomach and lungs. you swallow, and it feels too dry.

"i promise i do," you shake your head. "that's the problem."

"sure. tell me more about it later, 'kay? i gotta get ready to go out. let me know if your man shows up!"

your stomach rolls. "gotcha."

"bye bye!"

the line goes dead. your drop your arm to the side, your phone like a deadweight in your hand. you take a few steadying breaths, looking out at the rush of the river. the roar of it is just far enough away to not be overstimulating. the rest of the night is blanketed in snow and stillness.

you nearly trip as you begin to walk again, panic unfurling in your chest with each step.

(there's no way michael came all the way to your city, on a fucking last minute flight no less, for you. there's no literally no fucking way.)

why would he anyway? to try and salvage your not relationship? that hardly logical. there has to be another reason— his team has had him in a few PR campaigns lately, maybe... maybe that's it.

(you know that you are lying to yourself.)

you slip, just for a step or two, on some ice that's beneath the layer of fluffy snow. barely, you keep yourself upright, your arms flying up to find your balance once more. you take a steadying breath, pressing a hand to your chest.

"you should be more careful."

the blood in your veins freezes, numb and chilled like the air around you. your head jerks up.

kaiser sits on a bench, about ten paces in from of you. his arms are spread out over the back of it. he regards you with a tilt of his head, almost playful.

he looks you up and down, voice full of poison, "you could have hurt yourself."

"why the fuck are you here?" your voice barely manages to stay steady.

"why wouldn't i be?" kaiser shakes his head, a laugh bubbling in his chest. the cadence of it makes you feel nothing but unease. "i've got a match in London. i'm just picking you up."

"what are you talking about?" you swallow, audibly. you know that he hears it.

"don't be obtuse." he stands up. your stomach fills with leaden dread.

"you don't be obtuse," you snap back. "we're done. this—" you point between the two of you, "— is over."

"that's a mutual decision." he steps toward you.

you step back. "no, it's not."

kaiser is faster than you, he's up against your front in a moment. it makes you stumble back, nearly falling on the same patch of ice as before.

deftly, he gets an arm around your waist. the force of it is immediately too much, too tight, too hard. you're pulled against him, chest-to-chest. you brace your hands on his shoulders, some attempt at distance, but he doesn't budge. he stares down at you, the cold heat of his own presence engulfing you effortlessly.

"i-it's not," you whisper, voice wobbling. "you need to leave."

"you're an idiot."

"please let go."

"now, you're doing this on purpose, aren't you?" kaiser smiles, something acidic that you can almost taste.

he bends the two of you, so your back arches. you scramble against him for some purchase.

"there's nothing to 'let go'," his sneers. you hit your fist against his shoulder. "you're coming with me to London, and you'll stop throwing this tantrum now, or along the way."

"it's a not fucking tantrum!" you snap at him. your voice matches the roar of the river. you meet his gaze, angry slipping into your tone as it so often does with him. "we are done. i don't want anything to do with you, michael— especially now. i can't believe you hopped on a fucking plane to, what, harass me on my own turf?"

his palms circles your jaw in a swift, uncomfortably fast movement. the pressure of him is unyielding. you can't look anywhere other than him.

the way he looks at you scares you, now more than ever. the frigid blue of his eyes is haunting and as hollow as it is full of vitriol. anger. all directed at you.

"i 'hopped on a plane' to take you home," kaiser dips you further. if he wasn't holding you, you'd crash to the ground. "i should've done so earlier, but i didn't expect that you'd lose your shit so quickly."

you weren't—, "i’m not—"

his grip on your jaw grows tighter. from a distance, this may look romantic to an onlooker.

from your position, you are in the jaws of a beast that you thought you had escaped.

"you're mine—" he pats your cheek, hard, as he tells you. the angle is bad, given it's with the same hand that's holding your jaw. your brain rattles inside of your skull. "don't think you can run away just because you got a bit scared."

"that's not why i broke up with you—"

"but, it is."

you want to cry, run away, jump in that goddamn fucking river. "no—"

"i get it," kaiser noses into your cheek. he's just as cold as you are. his voice is too soft; it unnerves you. "it's scary, loving someone. i'm scared too"

"i—" you don't love him, you can't love him—

he pulls back just enough to dip your body as far as it can go, and look into your eyes, his own pupils blown.

"let's be scared together," he says, just above a whisper, before slotting his lips against yours.

you slam your fist on his shoulders, his chest, the back of his head— you don't fucking care. whatever you can reach. kaiser doesn't relent. instead, he licks into your mouth. kisses you filthy in a public park just because he can.

maybe his words seem romantic, if you were to recount them to someone else. maybe. maybe someone could read his plane ride to you as a grand, romantically-driven gesture.

but, as he holds your head squarely in place, and fucks your mouth with his tongue, stealing your words and breath in tandem— you know, so lucidly, that none of kaiser intent here is 'romantic'. not in a way that's normal, that's sane.

no, this is the only way a deeper connection can exist for him, you think. the hand on your jaw slips down to your throat, holding you there. it's a collar and kaiser's holding the leash.

you whimper; you feel so foolish. you feel so fucking stupid for thinking you could disentangle yourself from him so easily.

"do you get it now?" kaiser says against you lips.

all you can do is nod, it's all the action he allows you.

all of the fights and tension that made connection between you before so intoxicating— it evolved into this. it was always destined to. you've been ensnared since day one, but didn't have the foresight to see you.

kaiser did, though.

as he pulls away, you're light-headed. he rights you and steadies you at the waist. he pats your head and even coos at you.

"are you done now?" he begins to walk you with a hand at your lower back— back in the direction you came. probably toward the nice hotel in the center of town where he undoubtedly has a suite. where he'll fuck you stupid into the king mattress. "if you cry, i'll just make it worse."

'worse'.

you shake your head, hard and fast, and suck down any tears beading at the corners of your eyes.

he seems pleased. "good."

there's nothing you can do but walk by his side. this has always been his design, even if you couldn't see it. regardless of any attempts to sever things and run off, even cleanly, this is where you'll end up.

hip-to-hip, with his hand on your lower back. with the promise of pain and pleasure doled out to you in equal measure.

as you step through the doors of the, as expected, upscale hotel, a wave of warm, fragranced air hits you. and with it, some part of you sags, defeated so simply. crushed. you sniffle and rub at your eyes.

(you don't see kaiser smiling at your side. you don't see the way he slips the concierge a wad of bills with the understanding that he'll be given a room far away from others, and that you won't be disturbed.

he has work to do. you— were going to fucking leave him? he— he needs to make sure that you understand that that is not your choice to make.

and, as he sees you, stifling tears and shaking like a leaf, your little act shattered so seamlessly, he thinks you really are starting to get it.)

you are his.

[kupidachillea]

Could we have more Olympians x Reader? Maybe some slight nsfw and perhaps some time with Apollo?

Olympians x You (Hcs or imagines )

Author note: I usually do SFW but that doesn’t mean I don’t occasionally do NSFW if it’s light or not full on smut. I don’t think I’m brave enough for that and if I did I’d make a separate blog for it😭🙏 but I hope you enjoy

TW (trigger warning):This may have a few Yandere themes in it. And while the Olympians themselves aren’t really yanderes- they do share similar tendencies considering their myths. Please note that this isn’t completely accurate to their mythology- but it’s just a bit of fun so please take no offence and be nice in the comments.

CW (content warning)⚠️: readers either18+ (to read this I mean). This work contains NSFW themes, mentions of nudity, molesting and sexual harassment and assault, non-con, dubcon, toxic behaviour. General (hinted) Yandere behaviour, feeding of bodily fluids (blood[?])Reader’s discretion is advised.

⚠️ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT PLEASE ⚠️

🏺- You had been growing use to it..if that was the right term. Perhaps not ‘use to’ it but more along the lines of growing more accustomed to it. Being on Olympus wasn’t exactly all fun and games.

🪡- But of course you weren’t allowed to complain about it. You certainly weren’t allowed to complain when one of them would suddenly just pick you up and take you to their chambers. You already knew what that meant.

🏺- You’d find yourself pinned under one more more god, their hands caressing your body, their teeth leaving deep marks that you wouldn’t dream of calling ‘love bites’ there wasn’t nothing ‘loving’ about those bites. No matter how much they preach and repeat it.

🪡- Some days it would be one god after the other, other times you’d get a break. But there’s only some much a human can go through. One moment you’d be in the garden or somewhere with Hermes, his lips on your nether regions, sucking and licking at you while another moment you’d be bounced up and down on Ares while Aphrodite made out with you.

🏺- It made your head spin at times. Most times you were scared, who wouldn’t? It’s not like the men here had manhoods that looked anything like human..maybe an enough to look familiar in shape but still. Zeus was one such example, you actually remember begging him not to go through with it- afraid that the thing between his legs would split you in half but he would only laugh and hike your legs over his shoulders and whisper: “It’s okay little mortal.. we’ll do this as much times as we need for you to get accustomed to my size..”

🪡- Those words alone sent a shiver down your spine at the time. After that you weren’t able to walk properly for a few days. Not that the gods care, most of them found it funny. To see their little pet struggling to walk after such intense intimacy. “Poor thing, can’t even walk properly.” Poseidon would coo while watching you carefully ease yourself into the pool of water.

🏺- The sight alone made him excited and decided at that moment he wanted to help you ‘relax’…it wasn’t very relaxing to you. You would whimper as he sunk under the water and immediately attracted his lips to your hole.

🪡- Of course there were many instances like this but there were times where they did leave you alone and you did get time to yourself. Today was one of those days.

🏺- You were sat outside in the garden, fiddling with flowers and and grass blades. It was quiet for awhile and you actually had time to reflect on everything you’ve experienced. Sometimes it was good, other times it was bad..very bad and thought the Olympians tried to make you feel comfortable, you think that they don’t necessarily understand the word.

🪡- While you were thinking, you didn’t notice someone approaching you until a shadow of a man was cast over your body, blocking out the sun. You already knew it was one of the Olympians but you didn’t know which one until he spoke and that’s when you turned around.

🏺- “Ah, there you are, mortal..” Apollo spoke, a bright smile on his face as he crouched down next to you. “Relaxing in the garden I see..” He would mutter and you immediately got an off vibe..he wants something. As most of the gods did when they approached or summoned you, regardless you nodded to his statement as you fiddled with a petal of one of the asters that were growing in the garden.

🪡- Apollo smiled in response before speaking once more. “That’s good, that’s good..but perhaps you could relax with me? We could go to my chambers where no one would bother us…” The golden haired god spoke, his voice smooth as he held your chin between his larger fingers. You tried your best not to seem apprehensive at his request but you couldn’t exactly deny him..could you? You opened your mouth to try and voice your opinion but Apollo spoke before you.

🏺- “Please, my dear?” He pouted a bit, trying to make you agree and after a mental back and forth you reluctantly agreed. This made Apollo beam and he wasted no time in picking you up and dashing over to his quarters.

☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️

☀️- After Apollo got you situated and ‘comfortable’ in his room, he laid on the bed in the spot next to you.

🎵- You were quiet as you fiddled with your chiton and he tilted his head curiously. “Relax, my dear. It’s just us..” He spoke.. you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t the slightest bit charming. Apollo would shuffle closer to you and wrap his arms around your body. His fingers moving to caress your skin causing you to tense up a bit.

☀️- Apollo figured you’d still be apprehensive, but he thought he could get you to loosen up a bit. And so he continued to gently feel up your body, trying to coax you to relax a bit.

🎵- You were going to protest about the touching but Apollo quickly covered your lips with his own. He did this on purpose..wanting to silence your words that might ruin the moment. Your eyes widened and on instinct you tried to push him away, but he kept himself firmly against you. Kissing your lips and letting out a soft groan as his hand slipped under your chiton.

☀️- You obviously flinched, letting out a muffled squeak that caused the deity of light to chuckle. He could tell you were starting to slowly give in and kiss back, even if he could still feel the anxious beats of your heart. He decided to take things a step further.

🎵- Pinning you down to his bed and and moving his fingers to your hole. Teasingly rubbing his thumb over the opening as he moved his lips over to your neck, placing gently kisses as you whimpered. He then slowly fed you one of his fingers and bit his bottom lip at how your body tensed and gripped his index finger. He could never get tired of the way your body felt.

☀️- “There you go…that’s it…~” He would purr before adding another finger and scissoring your entrance then slowly pumping his fingers in and out. Curling them and stroking the spot inside you he knew would make you cry out. Your back arched a you whined, calling out his name as your hands immediately reached to grab for something..anything.

🎵- Apollo grinned and kissed your lips once more..adding a third fingers and moving them at a steady pace..not hard enough to hurt but not too slow either. All this was getting to him too but he wanted to focus on you mainly. For now at least…

☀️- He had you twitching and shivering from all the pleasure and the deity had drawn a few climaxes from you as well. You were panting and out of breath by the time he was done and he finally gave you a break..removing his fingers from your women out hole as he peppered your cheek with kisses.

🎵- “Mmm..such a pretty mortal..you did so well…you deserve a reward..” He would say before firmly pressing his lips against yours once more. At first you thought it was just a normal passionate kiss..but you suddenly felt a liquid like substance run down your tongue and down your throat.

☀️- Your eyes slightly widened as a slight burning feeling started to engulf your body. Your hands immediately reaching to try and push Apollo away, but he just groaned softly and caged your body between him and the bed. His tongue running over yours, sucking on the wet muscle and coating it with more of the golden liquid..

🎵- The more of this liquid he fed you the more your body started to feel like it was burning from the inside out. Your heart beating faster as the substance dribbled and leaked from the corner of your mouth. Tears burning in your eyes as you ingested every last drop he gave you.

☀️- Soon enough your heart stopped as you let out a muffled cry while Apollo gently rubbed your hips..pulling his lips away from yours and whispering that you’d be okay. He held you in his arms as you laid ‘dead’ for a minute or so before your heart started to beat once more; and Apollo smiled.

🎵- It was done..he had fed you his immortal blood..his ichor and now you’d never die. Or maybe you did..your old self..but that doesn’t matter now. What matters is that you’d never be able to escape them ever again..not even in death…they made sure of that.

Author note: Oof, sorry this took a long while. I’ll admit I wasn’t very focused and I procrastinated a bit. But on top of that I had things at home doing. Though I’m glad I finished it, usually if things take this long I like to post screenshots to show ppl I haven’t forgotten. I was just so slow to get this out. Sorry again but I hope this is to your liking, Anon! And to everyone else.

[brenwritesss]

𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝'𝐬 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐

⋆˚࿔Paige Bueckers x reader ❀˖°

Summary: You and Paige keep your promise to Azzi, steering clear of each other. What happens when you both fuck up?

Warnings: semi-sexual content ahead.

part 1

Your heavy breathing could be heard from miles outside your dorm while your hands rubbed down your forehead, clearing off the sweat. Your chest heaved and your legs flexed, spreading open the slightest bit as the girl beneath you rolled upwards, taking her own gasp of air and resting her hand on your thighs.

Things hadn’t been the same since that day in the locker room since you and Paige got caught by Azzi. You had spent the last month trying to make it up to the curly-haired girl as you kept your promise that you wouldn’t hang out with Paige alone. And fuck, it was harder than you thought it would be. And it seemed like to Paige, it was natural and the easiest thing she could ever do. She took ignoring you to a whole other level. First, she would only talk to you when Azzi or someone else was in the room. Then it progressed to fewer words exchanged between the two of you to her ignoring you completely. Always leaving the room when you entered, turning around and walking in the other direction when you passed in the halls. She even went so far as to block you on social media which in your opinion, was completely unnecessary.

“Same time tomorrow?” The girl in front of you asked, drawing you out from your thoughts. You met her in your communications class, bonding over your favorite shoe brands which ended up turning into a heated make out session in your dorm room. 

You take your hands off your face, leaning up to meet her eyes. “Yeah, yeah same time tomorrow.”

She flashed you a smirk, standing up and putting her jeans on. You watched her as she slipped her shirt on after, covering the exposed skin that you marked up just minutes before and the thought of Paige shot through your mind. 

You turn your head away. No. Stop thinking about her.

 After getting dressed, the girl picks up her phone and heads for the door. “See you tomorrow.”

“See you���” you barely mutter out, to distracted to even try and remember her name.

Not even remembering to put your clothes back on, you pick up your phone from your nightstand, checking to see what the time was. 10:20 p.m. 

Against your best judgement, you open up Paige’s text thread, practically a ghost town now that she wasn’t making an effort to talk to you anymore. But who were you kidding, the text thread had always been a ghost town since senior year. Releasing a sigh, you hit her contact photo, pulling up her contact information. You scroll all the way to the bottom until your thumb hovers over the block button.

God, this is so pathetic, you think to yourself. I’m over here doing this shit everyday just to get over my ex who probably hasn’t given me a single thought for over a month.

And that’s all it takes for you to hit the block button. Because you’d be damned if you let someone like Paige Bueckers get you in your feels, thinking about wanting her back in your bed. You’re not going to give her that satisfaction.

You text Azzi right after. I’m coming over, that ok?

You get a response in less than thirty seconds. Yeah, I’ll leave my door unlocked.

Since you and Paige got caught, things between you and Azzi were…not as good as it was before. But Azzi being Azzi, she was able to get mostly over it and things were mostly back to normal. Sleepovers every few days, always going out to eat when she wasn’t away for a game, random Target runs, and lots of tiktok drafts being made. The only times when things didn’t feel normal between you and Azzi were when Paige would walk into the room. Azzi would go from being the loudest in the room to being the most quiet. Not because she was uncomfortable but because she was watching the two of you, trying to see if there were any longing glances, or words mouthed between you. And she was definitely checking to see if either of you were on your phones for a bit too long at the same time. Obviously with Paige ignoring you, she didn’t have to worry about that.

You get up from bed, grabbing a fresh new pair of sweatpants and some other clothes to change into before you leave. You head into your bathroom, taking a quick shower before changing into the outfit you picked out. You opted for some sweats and an oversized shirt that you found at the bottom of your closet. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you fix your hair and brush your teeth before walking out of your bathroom to grab your phone and wallet.

When you walked out of your dorm, you were half expecting Paige to meet you on the other side as she would walk out from her own hook up. But that hasn’t happened at all since she stopped talking to you. It was better this way, anyway, because the last thing you wanted to see was her all disheveled and her hair a mess just like how yours was a few minutes ago, looking at you like she just got fucked. By someone else.

You make it to Azzi’s place in ten minutes, opening the door to see the curly-haired girl packing her bag for another away game.

“Where you going to this time?” you ask her as you plop down on her bed, messing up the organized pile of clothes she had sitting there.

Azzi shoots you a glare, swatting at your leg as she moves the now messy pile away from you. “Indiana to play Notre Dame.”

You scrunch your face. “Ew.”

“Let’s not talk about it,” Azzi tells you as she continues to pack.

You lean back on her bed, wrapping yourself up in her fuzzy pink blanket. The same blanket that Paige had a matching one in purple. “Right, sorry.”

Azzi holds one of her shirts in her hands when she looks up at you, tilting her head. “Hey, you still seeing that one girl?”

“Which one?”

Azzi pauses, looking at you with disbelief. “That’s actually nasty.”

“Hey, everyone deserves to have a little fun.”

Azzi laughs. “So, I was talking about the one I accidentally walked in on. The blonde one,” she pauses, “which by the way, I’m still traumatized.”

“The blonde one…” you trail off. Paige was the first blonde to pop into your head even though the only blonde girl that you have been hooking up with regularly was no where close to Paige. “Uh, Rachel?”

Azzi rolls her eyes at you. “Her name is Kathrine, dumbass. She’s in my accounting class.”

“Damn, I could have sworn it was Rachel.” You don’t dare to make eye contact with her because you knew she was giving you a look of disappointment, which from Azzi Fudd, was not a look anyone wanted to receive.

“Well for future reference,” she says, “it’s Kathrine.”

You don’t say anything for a couple minutes after that, debating on asking Azzi a very specific question. Curiosity got the better of you on this one. “Azzi, can I ask how Paige is doing?”

Azzi stops folding her clothes, turning to look at you and letting her shoulders relax. “Yeah,” she pauses. “She’s okay, Y/n. She’s in the gym a lot preparing for March.”

“That’s good.”

“Look,” Azzi sits down on the bed. “I appreciate you both keeping your promises and not seeing each other. It’s not that I don’t want you guys to interact at all, it’s just that I know you both. And I know how you both get with this stuff.”

“Ri–” you say as she cuts you off.

“And seeing you in the locker room…I could just tell that it was going to end badly. I mean, I love you both so much and I would hate to see either of you get hurt. Besides, with Paige being in her weird situation thing with that one girl she’s into, I don’t want to see you get caught up in that.” 

The look that Azzi gave you was so sincere that you could tell she meant every word she said. Azzi wasn’t in the wrong for keeping you both apart. She just wanted the best for both of you. You look up at Azzi, “I know. And I don’t blame you for anything at all. I agree, it would have ended badly.” As much as you wanted to disagree.

“Why did you break up with her in the first place?” The question shouldn’t have caught you as off guard as it did.

You shrug. “At the time, I thought it was the best decision considering we were both going to different schools. Long distance in high school is already hard enough. Long distance with a college basketball player would be even harder.”

“That’s understandable.” Azzi had to have been the most understanding person you have ever met. And you loved her for it. “Well when I said I hated the girl who broke her heart, I didn’t mean it.”

You tirelessly laugh. “I know Azzi.”

You wake up the next morning, still tired and craving coffee. After putting your shoes, you grab your phone and head for the door. The girl whose name Azzi reminded you was Kathrine, had left about a few hours prior, allowing you to get a few extra hours of sleep in. You open the door, not looking in front of you as you close it behind you. You walk into a tall body, making you stumble backwards.

“Paige,” you whisper, eyes wide as you flash her a shocked expression. Paige is standing in front you, walking out of the dorm that you haven’t seen her walk out of in over a month. She looked the same as she always did, blonde hair a mess, and the UConn patch over her clothing. She looks down at you, making eye contact for the first time in what felt like a decade. 

She didn’t say anything because she too was frozen in her place. You didn’t know what to say either because not only would you be breaking Azzi’s promise, but Paige was a stranger to you just like she had been for the past four years.

“Hi.” Was the only thing you could say because in a situation like this, what could you even say?

Paige eyes you up and down, drawing your body with her eyes until she met yours again. It didn’t even look like she was admiring you or missing you. Just complete shock. If you could even call whatever her expression is shocked. 

It felt like a matter of fours years had gone by between the two of you, either one not wanting to say anything. That was when you had to remind yourself that you’re both seniors in college not high school. “How are you?” you asked her, waiting to be met with no response yet again.

���Do I know you?” Her words shocked you more than seeing her out here in the hallway. And that is when you realized that you knew exactly how Paige felt that one time you had said the same words to her in the same spot. Paige shoves her hand in her pockets, turning to walk away.

You couldn’t even say anything as you watched her get further away and that’s when she turned back towards you, “you smell like sex by the way, I suggest you shower that off.”

Your dropped jaw turns into a grimace as you silently her off in your head. Paige Bueckers isn’t allowed to be pissed at you, not after she turned you into a memory and forgot you. And you were going to make her remember that.

Four days later and the team is back from Indiana as you find yourself standing in front of the door across the hall, preparing yourself to make what could quite possibly be the dumbest decision you have ever made. You sigh, knocking three times as you take a step back, part of you hoping she won’t answer the door.

About ten seconds later, a slightly shorter, brunette girl with brown eyes opens the door. “Hello?”

There was a part of you that flared with anger as you remember that this was the girl Paige had been seeing, sleeping with while you were right across the hall.

You fake a smile. “Hi, is Paige here?”

The girl in front of you raises her eyebrows, cocking her head to the side. “No, she’s not,” she pauses, “sorry, who are you?”

“Oh, sorry I’m Y/n. I’m supposed to be meeting Paige here? God, I hope I didn’t get the dorm number wrong,” you say as you fish your phone out of your pocket, pretending to look confused as you scroll on it.

“What? Why did Paige tell you to meet her here?”

By the look on her face, you could tell you were getting to her and that was exactly what you needed. “Paige and I have been…that’s not important. But she said that I should meet her here.”

She was sending you daggers with her eyes now. “What the fuck do you mean? Are you hooking up with Paige?”

You look at her, slightly shifting your footing. “Yeah…yeah we have.”

“How fucking long?”

“I mean I’m not counting but if I had to guess,” you say, making your voice a bit higher. “I’d say about a month maybe?”

“That fucking liar,” she whispers, rubbing a hand on her forehead. She looks at you again. “Well she’s not here and you can fuck off.” She slams the door in your face.

You turn back around and walk into your own dorm, the biggest fucking smile on your face.

It was another night out that Azzi had forced you to go to, although this time you had opted to meet her at Ted’s, needing to finish the last bit of your homework for the week. You didn’t know if Azzi had told Paige you were going, but if she did, then you needed to look your absolute best. The thought that ran through your head was if Paige found out you had ruined her relationship with whoever the bitch was across the hall, she’d say something about it. And that meant you needed to look drop dead fucking gorgeous because she couldn’t stay that mad at you and ignore you anymore, right?

Even with Azzi not letting you both speak to each other alone, she never said anything about in a group setting and you were determined to get more words out of Paige that weren’t ‘who are you?’.

You walked into Ted’s wearing a short black dress with your favorite sneakers because you never learned how to walk in heels and today did not feel like the day to start trying. Azzi glanced up from the group, eyeing you and waving you over. “Y/n, over here,” she said and waited for you to approach. “Wow, you look so hot.”

You laugh as she eyes you up and down, giving you an encouraging smile. “Not so bad yourself, Azzi Fudd.”

“Damn girl, who you tryna look this good for? It ain’t me right?” Aubrey joked, appearing beside you and handing you a drink. You gladly took it and downed about half of it right then and there. “Woah, easy you just got here.”

You turn to Aubrey, “I’m okay, trust.”

“Alright then,” Aubrey says, going back to converse with Ice and KK who waved at you before turning back to their TikTok live.

Azzi nudges you, eyeing the two girls on their phones. “You should go tell KK to do karaoke on live.”

“Is she any good?” you ask, turning to her.

“It’s definitely something,” she whispers, making sure that KK didn’t hear. Although that didn’t really work when you both heard a “girl boo, like you can do any better Miss Fudd.”

You let out a laugh as Azzi glared at KK. “I can be a professional singer if I wanted to. Can you say the same?”

Before they argued anymore, you hold up your glass. “I’m going to get another drink. Anyone want anything?”

Aubrey and Azzi both shake their heads, already having drinks in their hands as you nod and walk over to the bar. The bartender meets you at the counter, taking your order while you sit on one of the barstools, waiting. Someone sits next you although you don’t really pay attention because you’re too focused on Paige. Too focused on Paige to realize that she had come to sit right next to you.

“Tell me, do you usually get this jealous over someone? Or is it because I’m your ex?” Paige asks beside you, making you almost jump out of your seat. You turn to her, seeing her stool already swiveled towards you and she’s leaning her hand on her palm that rested on the bar counter.

Damn, did she look good.

You turn your own stool towards her, realizing that your plan had worked and you got her right where you wanted her. “I’m not jealous.”

Paige raises her eyebrow. “Really? So you just told the girl I’m seeing that we have been hooking up because what? Because you’re bored?”

You shrug. “Oh don’t worry, I’m sure you can find another girl.” The bartender hands you your drink which you gladly take a sip of, not looking away from her eyes once. “Maybe text one of the girls you fucked freshman year. From what I heard, you got around quite a bit didn’t you?”

“So you’re concerned about my sex life now? Do you–” she paused, looking over at the group to see if Azzi was looking, which she wasn’t. “Do you not remember that you broke up with me?”

You lean closer to her. “And did that kiss in the locker room not tell you that I made a mistake?”

Paige scoffs. “What changed your mind? Because senior year, I’m not good enough for you to stay, and now I’m good enough to fuck around with. What changed, huh?”

Your slight smirks drops when you realize that the look on her face wasn’t amusement, it was pain that she was trying to hide. That maybe she had been thinking about you this past month. Missing you like she had been the past four years. “It wasn’t like that.”

“I’m not talking about this anymore,” she said. “We made a promise to Azzi and we damn well are going to keep it. So stay out of my fucking love life Y/n because for once, it doesn’t revolve around you.”

And then she stands up swiftly, leaving you at the bar as she walks over to the team. You contemplated going back over to the group but didn’t want to raise any suspicion with Azzi. What were you doing? Were you wasting your time trying to get her attention? Probably. And what did this say about you? That you crave attention? That you want what you can’t have? Maybe it was all true.

How do you fix this? How do you make it right so that you both aren’t hurting anymore? 

You slowly walk back over to the group, forgetting your drink at the bar but nobody even noticed as you approached. Paige looked up at you, sitting beside Azzi and turning her head, not trying to make eye contact.

Azzi notices you, waving you over to her. “Come sit between Paige and I.”

Both you and Paige widen your eyes. Azzi wanting you to sit next to Paige. That’s…odd. Paige looks from Azzi to you and slightly shifts over, allowing you space to sit between them, which you reluctantly do.

Your right leg immediately presses up against Paige’s and even more memories flood back to you. All those times your body slumped against hers, when she’d spoon you in your bed; it was all coming back. You try to move more towards Azzi, not wanting to relive those moments all over again. But Paige, she knew you. Even after all these years, she still knew you.

So you weren’t as surprised as you should have been when she let her pinky finger graze your knee, rubbing it as a source of comfort because she knew you were in your head. You try not to look at her but even at that you fail and it makes you feel stupid. It makes you feel even more stupid when she doesn’t even turn her head your way, pretending you’re not even there yet her finger was still on your knee. And it was comforting for a while because it reminded you of the old Paige. The one you fell in love with in high school. It also reminded you of her and that girl across the hall. Payback’s a bitch, isn’t it?

You use your hand to shove her finger off of you, causing Paige to look at you for the first time since she touched you. You were over doing this to yourself. You were better than this. Nobody else noticed the movement you just made besides Paige and that was all that really mattered, right?

“I’m getting a drink,” Paige muttered to the rest of the group before getting up abruptly from the table and walking over to the bar. It was clear you had struck a nerve but had she not been doing that since the first time you saw her outside the bar?

It made you sick to your stomach, thinking about this whole situation over and over in your head for the past month. And ten minutes later, Paige wasn’t back from the bar and damn did you really need to take a piss. So you excused yourself, getting up and trying to find your way to the bathroom.

You turn down a hallway, the loud music growing quieter as you pushed the door open. Your breathing stopped and you felt your heart physically drop when you saw Paige pushing a girl against the bathroom wall by the sink, shoving her tongue down her throat. And it wasn’t just any girl. It was Kathrine, the girl who was just in your bed that morning.

“Leave me the fuck alone, Paige,” you say as she follows you out of the bar and into the street. And of course to your luck, it was raining. Hard. The sudden cold droplets against your skin made you shiver. But not nearly as bad as you felt when you saw Paige and Kathrine in that bathroom.

“Can you give me a damn second please?” Paige shouts after you. She catches up to you and grabs your arm, yanking you back around to face her. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“Let me go.” You said sternly, trying to loosen yourself from her grip but it was no use.

Paige shook her head. “You fuck up my relationship, you shove my hand away, you won’t leave me alone, and now you get mad because I was making out with someone else? When will you realize that I’m not the problem here?”

“I’ve been hooking up with that girl for the past month, dumbass.”

Paige’s jaw drops slightly and her grip on you slowly loosens. “First, I didn’t know. Second, why are you so pissed about it?”

“You just go and fuck anything with a heartbeat, don’t you?” You ask her, wiggling your arm free from her hand.

“Fuck you,” she grits through her teeth. “This would have never happened if you didn’t do what you did senior year.”

“Why did it hurt you that fucking badly? We were kids, Paige.”

Paige glared at you, reaching for your waist to steady you. “Because I was fucking in love with you, Y/n.”

You stop, the only movement coming from the shivers as a result of the rain. She was in love with you and she never told you. And you never told her. “What the fuck.”

“So yes, I hooked up with girls to get over you. And now that I finally am, you come walking back into my life for no goddamn reason and it makes me feel like shit. And I’m done trying to tiptoe around you like your some fragile thing that can’t be broken because the truth is, you’re a fucking bitch. You’re rude and you’re selfish and you’re ignorant.”

You couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of her mouth. Did she really think all those things about you? “Do you really think that?”

“Yes,” she said with no hesitation and that hurt you anymore. “And I’m sorry to myself that I let myself fall in love with you. Because that was a form of torture on myself.”

And what could you even say to that? Paige Bueckers just admitted that she regretted falling in love with you. What more was there to that?

“You want me out of your life? Fine.” You turn around and begin walking in the opposite direction of the bar, just wanting nothing more than to go home. “For the record, I never regretted falling in love with you.”

You didn’t wait to see her reaction and she never called out to say anything else. You were done.

[ilium-ilia]

Daughters with Soft Underbellies

john price x fem!reader | cowboy/outlaw x preachers daughter | masterlist

Chapter Ten: a world inside a world

tw: none

Grand Hollow is unlike anything you’ve ever seen. 

It scars the land. Morphs it into some unrecognizable jungle littered with buildings that tower higher than any church you’ve ever laid eyes on. The ground vanishes underneath stone blocks and wood boards, leaving Jester’s hooves to pop! along the streets as you keep close to your little group of outlaws. 

Many of the stores you pass sport large windows to show off merchandise fancier than any you’ve ever seen, such as watches made of pure silver and hats from freshly trapped varmints. There are young boys standing on street corners shouting about newspapers or other goods, or strange folk in even stranger clothes attempting to sell bottles of what you think you heard them call snake oil. 

You don’t think you could ever make out your daddy’s steeple through this mess. 

The air smells different here. It’s thicker than Penmosa’s atmosphere—darker. Thin columns of black smoke rise high into the air in the distance, reaching far enough to stain Heaven’s basement with coal dust and human filth. There are kinder aromas that attempt to stave off the grime of horses and automation. Strong liquor pours through some saloons and hotels you pass by, and there’s something sickeningly sweet about the tailor's shop on the other side of the street. 

Sweat slicks your palms, bleeding into the leather reigns you grasp. You have never seen so many people in your life—not shoved into the confines of a city like this. Eyes wander, lips curl, mouths greet. Swallowing, you ensure your mother’s necklace is tucked safely inside your blouse. 

“Your eyes look like they’re about to pop out of your skull, Lamb,” Kyle teases. 

Looking to your side, you see him casually leaning back in his saddle as he leads Bear with one hand. His aura is cool—collected. While you’ve been panicking the moment you’ve crossed this new threshold, he’s only seemed to relax. 

“This is all… I don’t even have the word to describe it,” you admit, eyes flickering back to focus on the road before you. 

“Grand?” he chuckles. “It’s not quite as big as London, so it was an easy adjustment for us, but I imagine it might be a bit much for someone like you… no offence.” 

“None taken. You’re right, after all,” you laugh nervously. “Mr. Beckett would always tell me stories about places like this. Things he heard from travelers and such. None of it comes close to experiencing it for yourself.” 

“And there’s plenty to experience here. Shows, parks, libraries.” 

“Libraries?” you repeat. “I didn’t think those were real.” 

Kyle snickers, white teeth flashing between his lips as he shakes his head. “Oh, they’re real alright. If the human brain can cook it up, it’ll exist here in Grand Hollow.” 

Deep in the heart of this jungle, sitting proud on the corner of a large city block, lies The Twin Rose Hotel. Just like every other building in this city, it towers over all of God’s creatures with glistening windows and chestnut bricks. A balcony on the second floor looks down upon the streets with an excellent view of the city park just across the way, and hanging above that on the face of the wall is the building’s name. Squinting, you’re able to make out odd, small glass bulbs that line the lettering. 

Small metal poles dot the sidewalk around the hotel, staining the ground with the protrusion. John hops off his horse and hitches him to it, and everyone else follows to do the same. A pang shoots through your feet as you dismount, not used to the hard surface of the streets. Your thighs feel numb from countless hours of riding, and you do your best to stretch your hips out as you tie Jester to the metal hitching post next to Bear. Just as you knot it, you realize you can make out a small horse symbol etched into the iron. Even though this city seems so advanced, they still hold a place for the antiquated ways of cowboys. 

“Right then,” John speaks up. All ears in the vicinity perk at the clamor of his voice. He stands with his shoulders squaring backwards and his thumbs looped behind his belt buckle. “Mind your manners, boys.” 

Walking into The Twin Rose is even more of a culture shock than the entirety of Grand Hollow has been. Glistening crystal chandeliers hang high above your head, filling what appears to be the cleanest saloon you’ve ever seen with a warm, saffron glow. The floors are made of waxed wood that don’t have so much as a dent on them, and various tables lay around the room in polkadot-like fashion. A crowd of gentlemen sit at a round table, chuckling over full plates and bottles of beer, and a man in a silk top hat plucks away at a standing piano just next to the mouth of a wide staircase. 

Toward the back of the room lies a bar. There are no stools to sit on, but a young woman with thin lips busies herself with cleaning her mixing supplies. Sconces line the walls, leaving nothing unilluminated, yet you can’t keep yourself from squinting at them. 

“How do they keep the oil in all of these?” you whisper. 

Kyle attempts to stifle his chuckle. “They’re lightbulbs, love. They run on electricity.” 

Lightbulbs. You remember hearing about their creation when you were a kid. It was all anyone could talk about when every paper in the country slapped it on the front page. The great Thomas Edison had invented light that could be held in the palm of your hand. Of course, your poor little town of Penmosa never got to see such a feat, stuck with using oil lamps and campfires, you could only ever dream of witnessing such magic. Your father abhors the idea of it. He says it’s unnatural—ungodly and impetuous. 

How could God hate something so beautiful? 

John leads everyone up to the bar, weaving through tables with heavy feet. He crosses his arms and keeps his head low as he kindly greets the barmaid. Grey eyes look him up and down, seemingly unimpressed, before her gaze wanders over everyone else. She doesn’t even look intimidated by Riley’s stature and the bandana that covers his face. Suddenly, you find your pulse rising. The closest thing you’ve had to a proper bath in the last few weeks was that thunderstorm that rolled in before you hit Little Wood—you’re sure you look less than presentable. 

“Can I help you?” she asks, voice dull.

“I need to speak with Laswell,” John says. 

She raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t seem surprised. “Who’s asking?” 

“John Price.” 

The woman’s head quirks, and you think you might even see a slight smirk on her lips. She places her items down on the bar top before motioning for everyone to follow her. You’re led through a door marked private that brings you to a long hallway with several doors. The barmaid breezes by most of them before coming to a stop at the very end of the hallway. A terrible squeak accompanies the door opening, and through the threshold you’re able to see a large, rectangular table with several chairs to sit in. 

“Take a seat. Laswell will be with you in a minute,” the barmaid instructs. 

You find yourself squeezed between John and Kyle as everyone melts into their seats with a sigh. Red wallpaper adorns every inch of the room in a deep scarlet that soaks up the illumination from the sconces. Beautiful paintings in thick, mahogany frames dot the walls as decor, but the room is too tenebrous for you to fully tell what they are. You can vaguely make out a beautiful Arabian horse in one, and snow capped mountains in another, but your eyes strain too great to peer at them in detail. 

Soap leans so far in his chair that his neck rests on the backboard, and his feet brush against yours, though you don’t say anything about the intrusion. “I hope we’re invited over for dinner.”

“Enjoying Lottie’s cooking and then having a proper bed to sleep in does sound nice,” Kyle hums in agreement. 

“There’s still a lot of work to do, boys,” John reminds them. 

Huffing, Soap straightens himself out in his seat. “Aye, but we’re allowed to have a little fun every now and then, aren’t we?” 

Before anyone can comment further, the door swings open, then quickly clicks shut. A woman with a stern face enters the room, and she is the strangest lady you think you’ve ever seen. Her cream blouse is pressed so that it’s pristine and free of wrinkles, and her sleeves are rolled up to her elbows as if she was caught doing manual labor. Instead of a skirt to accompany it, she dons a pair of black dress pants with matching shoes. Her dirty blonde hair is pulled back into a bun, leaving only her fringe to cover her forehead and the sides of her face. For a long moment, she stands at the head of the table with her hands on her hips where she gets a good look at everyone seated in front of her before humming and taking a seat. 

“Never thought I’d see any of you ever again,” she says bluntly. “Last I knew, John Price and his posse had vanished further West where the land is wild and the laws are rare.” 

“You know we couldn’t stay away forever, Laswell,” John smiles. 

“Yeah, not with all that unfinished business you have in Blackpeak.” The air grows tense. Palpable with hesitation. The oddly dressed woman pauses a moment to let her eyes fall on you, and you find your breath catching in your throat. She scrutinizes you—soaks up every inch of you. She doesn’t look away from you when she continues to speak. “I see you’ve got a new member to this… posse, of yours.” 

John looks at you, eyes cold and face impossible to read. “She’s just cargo.” 

Laswell hums. “What’s your name, sweetheart?” 

Your mouth grows dryer than any desert Mr. Beckett has ever told you about in all his tall tales. John nods in encouragement, and your answer tumbles off of your tongue like a freshly jellied calf. 

“But we all just call her Lamb,” Soap interjects with a grin. 

“Where are you from, Lamb?” the woman asks. 

“Penmosa.” You answer her question as if you’re unsure—as if you don’t know if you’re right or not. 

“Penmosa?” she repeats. “You’re an awfully long way from home. What brings you out here?” 

Nervosity chews at the flesh of your ankles as your hands fall into your lap, fingers twiddling. Is this the part where you ask for help? Where you bare your father’s sins for some stranger to see—to sully his name? Eyes shifting, you look to John, who casually leans back in his chair as he raps his fingers against the tabletop. 

“Her daddy’s got a bad temper,” he explains simply. 

“Right. Cargo.” Laswell crosses her arms before glancing around the table once more. “You boys are damn near drooling on my table. If you were hungry, you could’ve asked.” 

“Well, we didn’t want to impose,” Kyle explains, though his grin bleeds into his words. 

“You know better than to play coy with me, Garrick,” she teases. Her chair scrapes across the floor as she stands to her feet. The sconce behind her sends a diffused ray of light around her—she looks powerful. Unlike any other woman you’ve ever seen. “I’ll have the kitchen cook us some lunch, then we’ll see about arrangements. Lamb, how does a bath sound?” 

Surprised to hear her address you directly, you nearly jump out of your seat. “A bath? Well… that sounds fine.” 

“Good. We’ll get you fed, then while you’re bathing, the men and I can talk business. Sit tight, I’ll be back.” 

It does not take Laswell long to return with two maids following along behind her in red dresses. They each push a small trolley of sorts, with large plates of food and pitchers of water jittering along the metal cart as they station it alongside the table. You eye platters of rolls, chicken, smoked ham, mashed potatoes, and a large gravy boat. Dainty hands place the delicate dishes on the table buffet style before handing everyone a fresh, rose designed porcelain plate. Then, they vanish behind the door, leaving everyone to their meal. 

Honey glistens off of the ham in an enticing amber color that the boys waste no time diving into, flesh peeling like the tender skin of an orange. Rolls are passed around, as well as the saltiest butter you’ve ever tasted in your life, and you find your stomach growling after the first bite. You try to recall when the last time you had a proper meal was. When you put something other than hardtack and dried meat into your body. 

It was the night you left, you realize. When you promised your father you would find the change that ripped out of your apron. Your throat closes up the moment you recall the way his hand kissed your cheek, and you drown your discomfort away with a sip of water. Algid liquid hits your teeth and makes you grimace—there’s ice in your cup. You don’t think you’ve ever seen such a thing before. 

Conversation comes easy for everyone at the table except for you. John and Laswell murmur to one another in low tones while stabbing the meat from their plates with silver forks. Their eyes shift in unison, both of them on high alert as if anyone at the table might suddenly turn feral and nip at them. Riley and Soap are having some sort of disagreement, and Kyle isn’t helping with how he throws his two cents in so that they only get more riled up with one another. 

So, you’re left to sit. And sit. Silverware scraping against your empty plate, you face the bitter realization that this is the final stop for you. No more trekking through the wilderness with strange men who carry large bounties. No more long nights by a tall fire. You would hate to admit that you had gotten comfortable with them, but they were at least familiar. Now, you’re going to be dumped here. Left to wander in a strange town—a terrifying and intimidating new world—and John Price will be nothing more than a forgotten memory. 

After all, you’re only cargo. 

“Lamb?” 

Head snapping up from the scraps of your meal, you look at Laswell, who’s leaning forward in her chair with her elbows on the table. You realize you can’t quite read her as well as you can most other people. There is no tell in the corner of her lip like there is with Kyle, or a sly illumination in the depths of John’s cyanotic eyes. She simply speaks, and her tone implores you to listen.

“Yes ma’am?” 

“You finished with your food?” she asks. 

You nod, sharp and stiff. “Yes, it was lovely, thank you.” 

Laswell stands from the table, black dress pants riding up on her waist as she does. “Let’s get you in that bath, then.” 

You’re allowed to fetch your carpet bag from Jester before you’re brought up to the second floor. The chatter of well dressed patrons and their drunken games fades to white noise as Laswell leads you down tenebrous hallways marked with swirling vine and rose patterned wallpaper. Everything about this building is rich, from the sienna of the brick it’s built with, to the sconces that hold electricity in the very palm of its hands. 

As you clutch your bag closer to your chest—and all your pitiful belongings with it—you try not to feel like a walking stain in the establishment. 

“I can’t thank you enough for taking me in,” you blurt out suddenly. Unable to hold your tongue still, you swallow down the aftertaste of peppered mash before continuing. “John says you take in—well—troubled girls like me. That you’d give me a job, or at least help me find one.” 

“It’s what we do around here, darling.” Her reply is short and curt, though not impolite. Laswell’s feet stop just in front of a door with a gilded knob and the word bath engraved into rich wood. She quickly gestures to the door before her hands fall back to her sides. “Feel free to use all the amenities. And take your time. It’ll take me a bit to get all the fine details ironed out with John.”

Nodding, you thank her once more before slipping behind the door into what you can only assume is a whole other world. That’s all Grand Hollow seems to be—pockets of universes shoved inside one another. Endless doors stuck in a vast maze waiting for you to open so that they can fill you with veneration. 

There is a single lamp (at least, that’s what you think they are called—that interesting decor that looks like an oil lamp but with a shade and ten times bigger) that sits on a table just by the window, yet it’s more dim compared to the other electric light sources you’ve seen so far. The blinds are drawn, casting the room in darkness, but the shadows morph and dance on the walls as freshly lit candles sit on various surfaces throughout the room. 

The bathtub is larger than any other you’ve seen before. Clawed feet rest on the floor as it holds steaming water, and when you tread close you notice the distinct scent of rose. Upon closer inspection, you notice a few vermillion petals floating on the surface. A smile graces your lips. 

You think you might like it here. 

Before you undress, you seat yourself at the vanity. Its stool is plush, composed of thick velvet that envelopes your rum with comfort infinitely greater than Jester’s saddle ever does. It takes you more time than you’d care to admit to detangle your hair, but you know it’s well overdue for a wash, and life on the road hasn’t been treating any part of your body too well. Stripping yourself of your overdress and chemise, you slowly lower yourself into the tub while trying not to hiss at the near scalding water. 

As you rest with your back propped and limbs limp, everything fades away. The grime that nestles between your toes, the ache and sores between your thighs, the faint scars on your knuckles. Even the bitter memories of your father. It dissolves into the water to swirl around the rose petals that you toy with. Pure silk against your fingertips, you raise one to your nose and sniff. It’s sweeter than molasses—you’ve just eaten lunch and your mouth is already watering. 

A myriad of oils and soaps line the small side table next to you. You take turns picking each of the bars up and wetting them with your hands to feel the suds on your skin. Each one smells divine. Meadow grass in summer, petrichor in spring, Mama’s rolls in autumn—

—there’s a knock. 

For a moment, you almost think it’s her; your mother. She’s playing the knocking game again. Tapping on the wall that leads to your bedroom. Letting you know she’s still alive, that her tuberculosis hasn’t consumed her quite yet. It’s easy to fall into delusion when you’re enveloped by something so warm and so gentle—something that (for once) doesn’t have teeth. 

That thin shred of your imagination vanishes the moment a figure bursts through the door without even bothering to hear your answer. Though you know you should not be surprised to see John Price standing before you, you still are. Door clicking behind him, the gravity of the situation hits you, and you find yourself desperately attempting to save your dignity. Arms crossing over your breasts, thighs pressing together to hide your sex, your eyes widen as you sink further into the water. 

“John!” you shriek. “What are you…” 

Whatever malice laced confusion you harbor dies in your throat the moment you watch as his thick fingers reach up towards his neck. Then, one by one, he begins to undo the buttons of his shirt. Thick swirling hair sprouts between the fabric, and you’re left to gawk at the debauched display that is presenting itself to you. 

Unbothered, John untucks his shirt from his trousers before tossing it onto the floor next to your chemise, leaving him bare chested. If this were any other occasion, you’d be scandalized at such a gesture—his linens mixing with yours—but you find yourself infinitely more concerned with the odd twinkle in his eye. 

“You don’t mind if I join you for a moment, do you, love?”

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[luvyeni]

LOVESICK BOY 𝕼. ( 이동혁 )

𝓲𝓲 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒𓈒 ( 이동혁 x fem!reader )  ─── ❛ genre ⸝⸝ smut. content warning. unprotected sex , oral ( f )word count. 3.5k 「 req? ⦂ yes/no 」 library  !

synopsis … haechan is completely lovesick … but you won’t give him the time a day , until chenle comes in and shows you what you’ve been missing

𝕼 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒 yeni’s note .ᐟ this is the one that i think was supposed to be a yandere but the person didn’t specify

you really couldn’t see the appeal; all he did was sleep around with other girls, party and never show up to class — so why couldn’t you stop staring at him?

“my god he’s so annoying.” chenle turned around to see who you were staring at. “and how is she even falling for that?” you watched donghyuck flirt with the 3rd girl this morning , the girls eyes shimmered with hope and joy. if only she knew she’d be severely disappointed in the end. “this is your third complaint about him today.” jeno smirked. “we’ll need to get a jar , every complaint about hyuck you’ll have to put a dollar in the jar.”

“hey maybe we will be able to afford a new game for the frat after all , give it a week.” jaemin teased , you scoffed. “with the way she talks about him , maybe will have a little left over.” the table laughed , while you just rolled your eyes. “haha very funny , im leaving.” you stood up ready to walk away when someone blocked your path. “lee donghyuck.” you sighed , the boy smiled in front of you. “hey my wife to be.” he smirked. “where you going i just got here.” he said.

“really because we all saw you flirting with that girl over there.” you didn’t even mean to sound jealous , but it came off like that. “you jealous?” he said , you stepped to the right , but he followed blocking you once again. “come on you know you’re the one that i want.” and he was serious about that , but to you it meant nothing. “yeah , how many people did you say that to today?” you pushed him out the way , walking away to your next class.

he waited until you were out of sight and earshot before he sat in the seat slumped. “and what’s got you upset today?” marked smirked , the guys groaning knowing the rant he was about to go on. “you got him started.” he sighed dramatically. “i just don’t get it , why won’t she take me seriously.” his friends shook their heads. “how many times do i have to confess for her to get it.” he said. “for starters don’t flirt with other girls in front of her.” renjun said. “but i wasn’t flirting , i only asked where she got her necklace from.” he said. “i wanted to buy it for yn , she said a month ago her favorite necklace broke and i wanted to get her a new one , that looked like one she would like.” he said.

“yeah but that girl looked like she wanted to pull your pants down and suck your dick in front of everyone and with how friendly you were, it looked like you’d let her.” chenle said. “this is driving me insane.” he tugged at his hair. he couldn’t get you out of his head, you consumed him entirely even though you barely gave him the time of day. he even enjoyed when you would insult him because at least you were talking to him. “you guys don’t understand.” he sighed. “you’ve explained it , many many many times.” jisung looked up from his phone. “we understand.”

“where did obsession even come from , she’s never given you any reason for you to like her like that.” jaemin said. “i don’t know , it’s just that every single thing she does makes me crazy, even now i feel sick that she isn’t here , i miss her and she doesn’t even know it.” his friends watch him pour his heart out. “i think i love her.”

“whoa calm down.” mark said. “at least get her to like you before you start talking fucking wedding bells , children and shit.” the table chuckled , but he was serious. “how can i get her to like me?” he said. “aren’t you supposed to be good at this?” chenle said. “aren’t you like known for getting girls out of their panties , this should be a walk in the park for you.” haechan knew his reputation ; and he won’t deny his freshman year he really was like that — but then he met you , and everything changed , he no longer wanted to be a player , he wanted you and only you… turns out his past did come with consequences , you hated him; you wanted nothing to do with him despite him telling you that he changed , you refused to believe him.

“that’s the thing , i don’t want to get her out her panties.” they all looked at him. “well not just that , i want to be her , go on dates , take her to the movies , hell sit in the park and have a picnic.” he said. “yeah but you also want to fuck her in these exact places and she’s aware of that.” jeno said. “it’s your approach bro.” mark said. “yn doesn’t want to know what you’d do to her if you were alone in her bedroom.” he said. “she’s probably heard that 1000 times already.” he doubled over with a groan , he couldn’t fathom another guy talking to you. “instead of approaching her like a jerk , ask her on a real date first; or at least say hello when you see her and not and this is a quote from you ‘hello mother of all 6 of my future kids.’

he thought about all the advice that he was giving; as he waited outside of your class. “don’t say anything stupid.” he said to himself , walking back and forth. “nothing stupid.” he said. “oh that must be hard for you.” he spun around upon hearing your voice. “you’re constantly saying stupid stuff.” he smiled , your upper lip curled up in annoyance. “hi yn.” he said. “what do you want lee donghyuck?” you walked , he followed behind you. “well to ask you a question.” he said. “no.” you said , he pouted , making you feel bad. “fine what is it , i have a class.” you said. “i can walk you.” he said walking next to you. “is that what you wanted? that’s not a question.”

“that’s not the question yn , please listen to me for a second.” he pleased. “what is is donghyuck?” you said. “let me take you out,” he said. “what?” you stopped. “let me take you out.” he repeated. “on a date , a real date.” he said. “and why would i do that?” you said. “because im trying to show you that im not a heartless bastard with no home training.” you stifled a laugh. “did you laugh?” he said. “no.” you deadpanned. “yes you did , come on it was funny , you can laugh.” he said. “haechan — oh my god , you called me haechan.” you stared at him. “i have class donghyuck.” you stopped outside the classroom. “then say yes; we’ll go see a movie.” he explained. “we can even go get ice cream , brownie your favorite.”

“how did you know that?” you asked. “just say yes , before you’re late.” he said. you thought about it for a second , no sexual jokes , no condescending smirk on his face , although sexy made you want to slap him — he was serious. “are you fucking with me?” you said. “yn i wouldn’t have walked you all the way to class if i wasn’t serious , my class is on the other side of campus.” he said. “im waiting and you know what i think i can miss a day of class , this class seems fun.” he tried to walk past you , but you stopped him. , hand on his chest. “no don’t do that.” you said. “i will go; so go back to your class , lord knows you shouldn’t miss a day.” he smiled , his hand coming to your wrist. “really?” he said. “i will meet you at the movie theatre , now go.”

he waited for you to go into the class; before bursting out in a fit of excitement; you said yes , he couldn’t believe you said yes.

“i can’t believe i said yes.” you slammed your vanity. “why did i say yes?” you complained to your friend on the phone. “because maybe you really like him and you let his reputation from freshman year determine your entire perception of him.” chenle said. “still , we both saw him flirting with those girls.” you said. “i won’t be another one of sexual conquests.” chenle spoke up. “be realistic who didn’t do dumb shit during freshman year? you ran topless down a busy street drunk and has haechan judged you for that?” he said. “no in fact he was the one who chased you down the street, shirt in hand , his shirt because yours was floating in our pool.” you cringed, remembering jeno and haechan dragging you back to the dorms as you screamed. “i genuinely believe that was the first time he actually realized he fell deep for you and not because you were naked and in his arms.”

“to be honest haechan hasn’t been with anyone since freshman year , im pretty sure he fucked himself into not wanting anything , but not only that , but because he quite literally doesn’t want anyone else but you.” chenle said. “and those girls , we know he’s friendly even the teachers think he’s flirting with them.” he said. “but he was touching her.” you said. “because she had a necklace that he wanted to buy you , he remembered you broke yours and he wanted to get you a new one.” he let it spill out; should he have? no , but with the new look on your face he knew haechan would thank him in the end. “i only mention that once , months ago.”

“and he remembered; just how he remembers everything you say , down to the name of your dead hamster you had when you were three.” chenle said. “i genuinely don’t think you understand how much he likes you.” he said. “and i think you’re letting your soulmate slip right from your hands.”

as you stood staring at the movie posters; everything was swirling around in your head as you tried to make sense of it… did haechan really feel this deeply for you? you’ve treated him so horribly for all these years for some stupid things he did when he was fresh out of highschool; and now chenle sprung this on you… you felt like shit. you hadn’t even realized that haechan was late. “yn!”

you were gonna kill him; you’ll never give him the time of day again, you’re gonna think he’s fucking with you. “calm down man , how were you supposed to know your car was gonna break down.” mark sat in the drivers seat. “call her , im sure she’ll understand.” he said. “she probably already went home , and blocked me.” he said. “well we’re here , so get out and hope she’s still there.” he hopped out of the car , running into the movie theaters. “please still be here.”

he saw you and let out a sigh of relief; your back was turned but he could tell it was you. he could pick you out of a lineup with his eyes closed; just by your scent alone. “yn!” he ran over to you. “im so sorry i didn’t hmph.” was he dreaming? this was a sick joke his mind was play; he was dreaming , you actually weren’t here and this was a dream he was having. he had to be — because there was no way you were hugging him right now. “um not that i don’t like this … but what is this?”

you were silent; no you sniffled. why are you sniffling? are you sick? “yn , this is weird, what’s wrong?” he pulled away; you were too ashamed to look him in the eyes. “please look at me , im sorry for being late.” he said. “why are you crying?” he said, worried even more now. “what happened did someone do something?” you shook your head. “then tell me please im dying.” he said, which made you laugh through your tears. “im so stupid.” you said. “please i’ve met stupid girls and you definitely aren’t one of them.” he said. “oh no that came out wrong i promise i haven't met any girls , it’s just me saying that i think you’re very smart.” he panicked. “please just tell me why you’re crying.” he said.

“because i’ve been so mean to you an-and all you’ve tried to do is be nice to me and i judged you for things you did years; even though you’ve never judged me even when i ran down the street topless— hey!” his hand came up to your mouth. “not everyone needs to hear that.” he said. “where is all this coming from?” he said. “im just sorry for everything.” you said. “every single thing i’ve done wrong.” his first instinct was to grab your face. “nothing could make me hate you okay?” he said. “i haven’t done much to prove how much i really like you; only how much i wanted to sleep with you — wait not that i want to sleep with you, why am i so bad at this all of a sudden.” he said. “let’s just go see the movie okay, we can get ice cream after and talk alright?” you nodded , he took his hands off your cheeks , taking one of your hands into his. “come on wipe those tears off your pretty face.”

haechan could barely watch the movie with the way your hand was gripping his. you wouldn’t let him go , and he wouldn’t have it any other way — if this was a dream he was scheduling an appointment for a therapist when he woke up because he would never mentally recover from this if it was fake. “why do you keep staring at my home like that?” you whispered with a smile. “because im trying to see if im dreaming or not,” he said. “you’re holding my hand.” he said. “you’re actually holding my hand.” he smiled. “you’re on a date with me, and you’re holding my hand.” he could’ve burst into excitement if he wasn’t in a quiet movie theater. “you’re not dreaming.” you kissed his knuckles and he almost passed out. “see.”

“maybe i still don’t believe it.” you giggled , before you reached over kissing his cheek, leaving the boy shocked. “do you believe it now?” he nodded. “good because i don’t think there was anything else I could’ve done here in public that would’ve made you believe me.” you said. “well maybe if there was less people.” did you really say that? what did you mean by that? now he was thinking about other stuff. would you have touched him? in public?

the movie soon ended and you still hadn’t let him go even as you made your way to the ice cream shop to get your ice cream. “sorry we’re out of brownie ice cream.” the worker said. “really?” you frowned. “maybe you can get chocolate?” he said. “it’s not the same.” you said. “well we can stop to get some food since you didn’t eat anything at the movies.” he said , he really didn’t want this date to end. “or..” you started. “we can go to my apartment and i can make ramen.” your house? you were letting him in your house? “what do you say?” why would he fucking say no? “okay.”

the walk back to your apartment wasn’t that long , nether was the elevator to your apartment; but he soon found himself in your space, surrounded by your scent and all things you — this was his heaven. “haechan.” he heard you call him , which made him turn to you. he couldn’t even react before your lips were on his. your kiss was something he dreamt about often , your soft pillowy lips on his; your fingers working their way through his neck hairs. “wa-wait yn.” he pulled away before he got carried away. “as much as i love this , i definitely don’t want to do this just cause you feel bad.” he said. “no-no i want this.” you said. “i want this so much.” you said , and that was all the confirmation he needed. “then let me do it.”

he picked you up; taking you to your room , kicking the door open. “wan’ you go sit on my face.” he said. “fuck i need you to sit on my face.” he groaned , laying back. “i don’t want to hurt you.” he didn’t care; dying with his face stuffed between your legs seemed like his dream way to go. “no , no you won’t please.” he begged , pulling your skirt down , along with your panties , your wet was right there , he could smell your scent as you dripped for him. “please sit , please im gonna die if you don’t.” he grabbed your thighs desperately. “sit please.” you finally gave in , lowering yourself down , you could feel his tongue. “oh-oh hyuck.” you moaned , yelping as he impatiently pulled you down. “fuck!”

he wasted no time licking your folds , holding you by your waist like you’d run away if he didn’t , your hips involuntarily moved against his tongue , your hands coming to hair pulling at it. “fuck keep going.” you moaned. “just like that , im gonna cum!” he sucked on your clit , sending you over the edge. “oh my god!” you gasped your legs began to shake. “im cumming!”

the boy below opened his mouth , allowing your juices to flow straight into his mouth; drinking everything you had to give him; his cock begging to be freed and touched — tasting you wasn’t enough, he needed to be inside you. “hyuck i can’t - too much!” he finally let up on your poor cunt , but that doesn’t mean he was done. “i need you.” he moaned, kissing your thighs. “you have me.” you said , he flipped you over. “I need to fuck you , pl-please.” he pressed himself against your bare lower half. “pl-please hyuck.” you reached down , pulling at his pants , undoing the buttons. “please fuck me.”

he stood up quickly; not wanting to be away from you much longer , pulling his pants down , along with his underwear. “i-i don’t have a condom.” he said , you didn’t care right now. “are you clean?” he nodded , his aching cock standing in desperate need of attention. “then please touch me , please.”

he climbed back in between your legs. “fuck.” he cursed the moment his hip touched your soaking cunt. he knew he wasn’t gonna last long , but he knew he didn’t want to let you down. “It-it’s okay.” you touched his cock , slowly guiding it inside you. “oh fuck you’re so tight.” he had to compose himself. “fu-fuck i don’t think I’m gonna last.” he fully stilled himself inside you. “can i move?” you moaned. “please move hyuck.”

he grabbed your waist; moving. “oh-oh fuck you’re so big.” he groaned. “faster hyuck.” you whined. “please go faster.” he hissed as he picked up the pace , feeling you clench around him repeatedly. “fuck if you keep doing that , im gonna cum.” he said , his movements still remaining strong and fluid as his tip kissed your cervix over and over. “fuck im cumming.” he groaned ,his cock twitching inside you before he shot his load inside of you. “oh fuck im sorry.” he pulled out , finishing on your sensitive cunt. “sh-shit it’s okay.”

he definitely wasn’t about to leave you hanging; pushing his sensitive cock right back inside you. “fuck hyuck!” you screamed , your neighbors surely won’t be happy with you in the morning. “wanna make you cum.” he said , his hands planted on both sides of your head. “fuck hyuck keep going.” you moaned. “right there , im gonna cum.” he kept up his pace , soon your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you came. “oh fuck!” he felt himself cumming a second time , this time he didn’t pull out.

“i didn’t pull out.” he said breathlessly. “th-that’s okay.” you said. “we-we need to clean up.” you sat up , but he wasn’t done , now that he finally got a taste of you , he wanted it again , and again and again. “not yet.” he kissed your stomach. “i wanna do it.” your eyes followed his dark ones as he kissed and bit at your thighs. “wanna clean your pretty pussy myself.”

it was truly gonna be a long night for your neighbors.

“there he is at it again.” jaemin looked past you , making you turn around. “he can’t read a single room can it.” you watch the girls face turn beat red as the boy in front of him start a conversation. “she can’t either , can she not tell he’s not interested.” chenle spoke up. “excuse me.” you got up , the table was confused. “class?” jeno smirked , you shook your head. “no.” you walked away , straight over to the boy. “oh hi , you see these earrings?” you nodded at the clueless boy in front of you. “our 5 months is coming up , wouldn’t you like these?” the girl finally got the hint walking away. “wait what brand are they?” you dragged him back to the table. “I’ll find you a better pair.”

“and he still can’t see why she hated him?” jisung said. “I don’t need anymore jewelry ; we’ve been together 5 months and you’ve given me way more jewelry than i’ll ever need.” you said. “you’re right , i’ll just get you flowers.” you smiled , giving him a cheek kiss. “if that’s what you want hyuck.” he still stared at you with the same love sick look.

he was clueless and couldn’t read the room at all ; but he was yours… and you wouldn’t change him for the world.

©️LUVYENI