#Trying one ask a week for a bit until I either run out of asks to answer I start doing the non ask story updates or I find it isn't working

[kh-daybreak-cult-au]

Skuld, can you tell me anything about ‘Daybreak Town’? What was it like?

“Well, we had a lot of freedom before the war. We all had our own apartments, worked on our own projects, and would hang out with our friends. There were obviously the daily missions —the Foretellers, Luxu, and the Master of Master’s were technically in charge— but as long as we got those done we could do what we wanted.”

“After the Keyblade War, we were left in charge of keeping Daybreak Town running smoothly. Luxu was supposed to help us, but he disappeared. Everything was different after that…"

(Response date: November 25, 1941)

[weaselle]

it was too much i had to make my own post

line cook here. ACCURATE

if you don't get the hate, here's what you don't understand.

it takes up to 2 hours to close down the kitchen.

The last 60-90 minutes before closing time you do almost no cooking because the restaurant doesn't have many people in it and you've already cooked most of their diners.

So if someone walks in during, like, the last hour, the cook is in the middle of an industrial deep clean of the kitchen.

(these numbers can vary quite a bit from place to place but i have worked several restaurants with these actual times and the concept remains the same)

Say the place closes at 10. If you wait til the restaurant is already closed to start all your cleaning duties, you'll be there until at least midnight.

More than that your boss knows that on an average night you can start your clean up as soon as the last rush ends and get out of there around 10:45, even 10:15 on a slow night if you get lucky. That means there are plenty of restaurants where if you do take until midnight the manager is going to come up to you at some point that week and ask you what went wrong that night, and you'd better have an answer.

So this example restaurant closes at 10 pm. The dinner rush ends around 8:30, and shortly after that the cook is going to start getting every single dish possible over to the dishwasher because the dishwasher always gets hit hard and late, and the machine runs for 2 full minutes and only holds so many dishes, so the way that works out is if you wait an extra 30 minutes to give the dishwasher all your stuff it can mean adding like 60 minutes to the end of his shift. And you're gonna KEEP finding shit to send to the dishpit right up until you leave probably.

all these little square and rectangle containers in this cold table have to be pulled out and changed over into new containers, replaced by new full ones, or in some cases filled from larger containers in the back, which can result in even more empty containers to send to the dishwasher.

while it's all pulled apart to do this, you have to clean up all the spilled food and sauce and juices and stuff from the joints and ledges and shelves and drip trays

Once you get your line changed over in this way, and fully stocked, anytime someone orders something that makes use of a bunch of that stuff, you have to restock and re-clean it some. It might already be covered in plastic. Some of it might already be stuck in the back to make room to take apart your cutting board counter to clean. To cook a dish isn't TOO much of a problem at this point, but you're really hoping for zero orders because you still have so much other cleaning to do.

Meanwhile the salad bar and appetizer section and server station and everybody are all doing the same thing. Even the bartenders are stocking olives and lemons and sending back whisks and stir spoons and shakers and empty 4quart storage containers that used to hold the back-up lemons and olives and things. Every section is dumping their must-be-cleaneds to the dishpit as fast as possible because early and fast is the only thing they can do to to help that dishpit not absolutely drown into overtime.

The poor dishwasher is always the last to clock out, soaking wet and exhausted.

Around this time you probably scrub the flat top, which has turned black from cooked on grease and is still about 500 degrees. Line cooks are divided in opinion on water-based or oil based cleaning methods for this, but they all involve scrubbing with (usually) a brick of pumice stone using every ounce of your strength while you try not to burn yourself

you scrub it from fully blackened to gleaming silver and now if somebody orders something that needs the flat top to cook, you can either fuck up your cleaning job or fake it in a couple frying pans and pass that tiny fuck you down to your dishwasher (who usually understands, especially if you help them take the garbage out or clean your own floor drain later)

If there's deep fried stuff on the menu then the fryers have to be cleaned out, which includes straining the oil out into enormous and super-heavy pots full of oil so hot that if you spill on yourself then it's probably a hospital visit and if you slip and fall face first into it it'll be the last thing you ever do.

Then you gotta scrub out the fryer. Like you gotta take the (hot) screen out and reach your arm down into the weird rounded pipes and curved areas (so hot, burn you if you brush against them hot) and scrub off whatever is down there

Depending on your kitchen you might have to do up to four of these. Then you'll have to pour the (dangerously hot) oil back in

oh, and if you didn't dry the pipes and get ALL the water out of the trap and tank?

water reacts with hot oil in a sort of mentos and coke way that can send a tidal wave of oil past the open flame of the pilot light ...HUGE dangerous mess and/or burn down the kitchen if the oil lights up.

Unless! If the oil has been used too hard and needs to be changed, it's time to carry those open topped super heavy pots full of will-kill-you-hot oil and dump them in the barrel outside by the dumpsters so you can put room temp fresh oil in the fryers. whew!

The clean up is not just some light wiping down that can be easily interrupted, is what i'm saying.

You might have to do some kind of walk-in duty (moving around 50lb cases of lettuce and 50lb bags of onions to get to the stacks of five gallon buckets full of salad dressings and sauces to move so you can reach the giant metal pots and bus tubs full of prep and get it all organized and make sure it's all labeled and i have to stop now i'm having flashbacks)

THE POINT IS

by 15 or however many minutes to close, the line cook is doing an intense deep clean and probably has the whole stove taken apart to detail.

For some industrial stoves this means lifting off large cast iron plates that weigh like 20 lbs each and are still quite hot. Whatever metal burners are on there, you gotta take off and clean, you can see here the lines that indicate the large thick cast iron rectangles that sit on top of the burners to allow heavy pots to rest on. Those five (each has one front burner hole and one back burner hole, see?) have to be lifted off and cleaned with soap and a wire brush usually, and then the underneath area also has to be cleaned because a lot of shit falls through the burner holes on a busy night.

if you didn't do it when you did the flat top you have to do the grease trap (which can be like a full five minutes and is always disgusting).. You gotta clean out all the little gas jets in each burner with a wire or something so the burners all flame evenly, and sometimes you have to remove some of the natural gas piping that connects the burners to access where you have to clean.

you gotta clean out the bottom of the oven and the wire racks, and, oh gods, you gotta take down the filter vents from the hood fans above the stove.

See all the lined parts along the top of the wall?

those are hood vents, and as they pull air up they also pull a lot of grease and they have to be taken down and cleaned, then you gotta climb up there and scrub where they go before you put them back...

And then there's the mopping and floor drains and...

Anyway, that's what the line cook is doing when you walk in fifteen minutes before closing and order something that needs to be cooked on that stove. They are doing an entire industrial cleaning of a professional kitchen.

In some restaurants maybe one or two of these jobs will be every other night or even only twice a week, but in many, possibly most kitchens, ALL of these things happen EVERY night. You don't want to leave any food mess that might attract insects or rodents for one thing, so a really good kitchen is as close to brand new as you can get it every night.

IF YOU ABSOLUTELY HAVE TO ORDER SOMETHING ANYWAY, HERE IS WHAT TO DO

open with an apology and ask the server to go ask what the cook would prefer you to order.

Any good server will already know what the cook is hoping for and what will make their line cook go into the walk in and scream. If it's significantly less than an hour to close and they say some variant of "oh anything is fine" they are either telling the lie their boss wants them to say, or they actually do not know what their line cook wants, and you can either use human connection and a conspiratorial just-between-us tone to get them to drop the customer-is-always-right act, or get them to actually go ask the cook.

It might be as specific as "the lasagna is easiest on the kitchen" or it might be a simple guideline like "nothing that requires the flat top" or "any of the sautés are easy" but a good line cook will probably have a system for if they have to make a couple of the most popular items after they start their close, so the answer is likely to include something most people like and you should be good to order that.

but for the love of all that's holy, please only do so at great need. Leave that last 30-60 minutes to the truly desperate and the crew's duties.

[anqelrafe]

— ୨ৎ sleepover with secret bf!rafe

authors note: i got a request for this a few weeks ago but the ask deleted itself so I'm so sorry to whoever sent that! and i'm trying to get out of my writers block so enjoy...whatever this is. (not sure how I feel about this) not proofread!! content warnings: contains smut, 18+

“come over? just for a little bit?” rafe asked as he looked at you through the facetime camera. it's been a rough day for him and you were really the only person he wanted to see right now. but it was past midnight and you weren't supposed to be out of the house around this time, let alone going to his house.

you've been told by your parents to stay away from him—countless times, actually. rafe knew he had some...things to work on, but in his mind, he wasn't that bad. at least towards you. “dunno rafe...'m already in trouble for skipping school yesterday.” you frown, tapping your manicured finger on the side of your phone. rafe sighed, sitting up against his headboard “please? it'll be quick. i'll sneak ya in and out.”

you were hesitating and that's something rafe could see clearly, but he was desperate. you were one of the only people he actually cared about these days and he didn't want to be alone right now, especially not at night.

“please..? you're the only person i want to see right now.” he pleaded, almost begging in a way. he was never one to beg, but it was the only thing he could think of that could convince you to come.

you thought it over as you bit the inside of your cheek. you knew how it would end if your parents found out you snuck out of your house. “isn't sarah home though?” rafe was silent for a moment, his hand running through his hair “no...she's out. won't be home 'til morning” he murmured. that was one less obstacle so it was one good thing. but you still weren't sure. rafe was your boyfriend and you cared about him, but sneaking out wasn't the best idea right now. “but my parents said-”

“i know sweetheart and i'm not tryna get you in trouble, but i swear it'll be like thirty minutes.” he cut you off, his tone almost desperate. you bit your lip as you leaned back against your headboard. “rafe...” you trailed off with a sigh. you weren't saying no right away, but you weren't saying yes either. it was clear you were conflicted as you hesitated before adding, “okay, fine. but just for thirty minutes. not a second longer.”

rafe's face lit up as he heard you agree. he knew he could be convincing if he wanted to and he was so glad it worked this time. “thank you baby, be outside waiting. i'll come get you.” with that, he ended the facetime, standing from his bed as he grabbed a jacket and his keys. it didn't take long for you to change into some shorts and a hoodie and put your shoes on. you carefully crept out of your room and out into the livingroom, pausing to listen for any noises. once you were sure your parents were asleep, you opened up the front door and slipped outside, shutting the door quietly behind you. by the time you were out of your house, rafe was already parked outside.

rafe was leaning against the door of his car as he waited for you. he heard the door open and shut, looking up and seeing you walking towards him. he could see you were nervous, but it didn't stop him from pulling you into a tight hug. “hey,” he greeted, his voice tired but he felt better with you in his arms. you returned his hug, leaning into the embrace. “hey...” you murmured back, your tone almost equally as tired. you could feel the exhaustion in him as he hugged you and you felt the need to ask, “you okay?”

rafe let out a sigh against your shoulder, giving you a light squeeze before leaning back “not really...” he mumbled, releasing his hold on you reluctantly. he opened the passenger side door for you, waiting until you got in before shutting the door and walking around to get into the driver's side.

you got into his car, leaning back in the seat as you looked over him. you could tell something was bothering him by the look on his face and his tone of voice. it's been a long time since he sounded that exhausted. “...rough day?”

rafe ran a hand over his face, looking over to you wearily “rough life.” he mumbled, starting up the car as he pulled out from the curb. “seatbelt.” you hummed quietly as you reached out to grab the seatbelt, buckling yourself in. you decided not to ask more about what exactly was bothering him; in time, he'd probably talk about it.

the car ride was silent as rafe drove back to his house. you didn't mind though, figuring that he needed the silence in order to calm his head for a bit. a few moments passed before he parked in his driveway, unlocking the doors and getting out. he came around the side and opened your door for you, offering his hand to help you out of the car.

you slipped your hand into his, letting him help you out of the car. walking through his yard, he quietly unlocked his front door and let you in first. “wheezie's home so we're gonna have to be quiet” he said as he shut the door behind him, locking it again.

you followed him inside “gotcha” you whispered as you looked around. “is she awake? i don't wanna be the reason she doesn't sleep.”

“she's asleep.” he mumbled, nodding towards the stairwell. “come on..” he took your hand again, quietly leading you upstairs to his bedroom. once inside, he closed the door and locked it before turning on his bedside lamp and walking over to his bed.

you followed him to his bed, crawling onto it and moving to lay back against the pillows. you could still see the exhaustion in his body as he laid down next to you, his head resting against your shoulder as he wrapped an arm around your waist. “wanna talk about anything...?” rafe was silent for a moment, almost as if he was thinking about your question. he really didn't wanna talk about anything at all. all he wanted was to lay here with you, which he thought to himself as he shook his head. “nah”

you nodded once he answered, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as you closed your eyes. you could tell he didn't want to talk and you were okay with that. you both laid there in comfortable silence, no sounds besides the sound of your breathing and the occasional passing of a car outside. “can i do anything to help?”

it felt good to lay here with you. it was the only real peace he's felt in weeks and it helped calm him a little. when you spoke again, he lifted his head to look at you, his tired eyes meeting yours.

he moved a bit closer to you, his arm around your waist tightening as his head rested on your chest. “this is more than enough for me, sweetheart” he murmured, his fingers brushing against your side. “i do have a request though”

you looked down at him, your fingers lightly running through his hair as you waited for him to speak. you could tell he was still thinking about something and you waited patiently before finally speaking, “what is it?” rafe's eyes closed as your fingers ran through his hair. he loved when you did that and it relaxed him greatly

he was still silent for a few more moments before finally speaking. “i need to relieve some stress.” he murmured, his fingers gently brushing against your waist once more before suddenly resting right above the drawstring of your shorts.

────୨ৎ────

“a-ah shit, rafe” your hands clench by your sides as rafe glides his tip between your drenched folds, looking down at you with this tongue between his teeth. “mmh...this wet already, darling? barely even touched ya yet.” rafe hummed, smirking down at you. all you can do is nod and let out a whimper as he tapped his cock against your cunt. “nuh-uh, words. none of that whimpering shit”

you were already a stuttering, whimpering mess as he ran his fingers over your clit. you needed more from him, wanted to feel more of him, but you knew that he wasn't going to give that to you until you answered.

you let out a shaky breath as you looked up at him, eyes wide. “yes!” you quickly whimpered, “been thinking about it all night. please, please rafe...” you whimpered, your hips bucking up in an attempt to get more from him. “i know baby, i know” rafe murmured, running his tongue over his bottom lip as he teased your clit with his thumb again “been so long since you've had this cock, yeah?”

you nodded rapidly, eyes pleading him to do something, anything. you wanted him so badly and you could tell he was just teasing, which was driving you absolutely insane. “rafe..." you murmured, your voice trembling a little. rafe chuckled softly, shaking his head “come on. don't get all shy with me now. tell me what you want” he said with a smirk, his fingers still moving over your clit, barely applying pressure. he could feel you shaking beneath him, which encouraged him to tease you a little more. “tsk tsk i want an answer. i know you know how to talk, baby. i just wanna hear your pretty little voice say it.”

you swallowed hard as you looked up at him from under your lashes; he looked so damn proud of himself. you were almost positive he got off on teasing you like this, and the last thing you wanted to do was give him that satisfaction. but your patience was wearing thin and you were getting desperate. you just wanted him to touch you already, but he was always so stubborn. you ran your tongue over your bottom lip as you met his gaze again, your voice shaking a little as you finally spoke up, “n-need you rafe…please...”

“mmh, that's my good girl. i knew you could do it baby.” rafe murmured, finally pushing his cock into your aching hole, causing both of you to let out simultaneous moans. “a-ah fuck” you gasp, gripping onto his biceps as he pushes all the way in, making you groan at the feeling, his cock slowly slipping all the way down, filling you to the hilt, “so fuckin' tight” he groans under his breath at the feeling of your narrow pussy engulfing his member.

you whimper as he remains motionless, denying you the much needed friction. “mmh what do we say after i give you something, baby?”

you could practically hear the smirk in his voice as he murmured the question into your ear. he knew what he was doing. he knew exactly how to get you to say what he wanted you to say, knowing how well he filled you up and how he wasn't moving. you moaned quietly, hands moving to grip onto his back as you looked up at him with watery eyes, “thank you.”

rafe hummed and nodded against your neck, lightly kissing just under your ear as he lifted his head, “good girl.” he said “you're welcome, my love. anytime.”

he finally pulled his hips back a little, thrusting back into you “you feel so damn good, baby.” he breathed before beginning to thrust into you harder, repeatedly hitting your cervix deliciously “been too long without having you.” he murmured, his hand gripping onto the back of your thigh, lifting your leg up over his shoulder. the change of position caused his cock to slide even deeper, making you gasp.

you whimpered at the feeling of him hitting your sweet spot, unable to speak clearly “oh...oh g-god rafe” you tried, your eyes already shut as you tried to move your hips in time with his. he could feel your nails digging into his shoulders, leaving red indents. “look at me.” he murmured in your ear, his hand reaching down to grab your chin, turning your face towards his “look at me while i'm fucking you, sweetheart. ” your mind goes a little blank for a moment when he says that, only able to focus on the feeling of him inside you. it takes a few seconds before you manage to open your eyes again, meeting his gaze. rafe's eyes are focused on you, a small smirk on his lips as he sees you staring “there you are.” he hums, biting down on his lip once he feels you start to clench around him “shit, you gonna cum already?”

“yeah...mmh, so close ray.” you moan, struggling to keep your eyes on him as his hand reaches to press his thumb against your clit, rubbing tight circles. “so fast, sweetheart?” rafe murmured with a smirk “been that long, huh? gonna make a mess all over my cock already?” you don't even have time to respond before your orgasm hits you hard, your body shaking as the coil in your stomach snapped. eyes squeezed shut, walls clenching around his twitching shaft. the way your pussy cinched around him is all rafe needed to go over the edge, spilling his seed deep inside you.

“mmh ray?” you murmur, looking up at him with your glossy eyes. “hm?”

“think 'm gonna stay here tonight.”

taglist: @bunbun-3 @drewscoquette @untitled10351 @rafesweetie @meetmebehindthemallrafe @supercutelovergirl

© anqelrafe

[pucksandpower]

Hip Thrusts

Oscar Piastri x Reader

Summary: watching your boyfriend train gives you ideas about other things (or people) his hips could be doing … like you

Warnings: 18+ content

You take a deep breath as you push open the door to the gym. The smell of rubber mats and metal weights fills your nose.

It’s early — the sun is just starting to peek through the windows — and the gym is mostly empty, except for a few dedicated early morning regulars on the cardio machines.

Across the room, you spot Oscar on the weight floor. He’s doing barbell hip thrusts, clanging the weights up and down with each rep. His trainer Kim stands over him, stopwatch in hand, counting out the seconds between sets.

You take a moment just to watch Oscar train. His brow is furrowed in concentration, his muscles flexing and contracting with each thrust. He’s wearing those tiny Nike running shorts you bought him last month, the ones that show off his sculpted quads and glutes.

You can’t help but stare a little bit. Okay, a lot. Your boyfriend’s butt looks amazing.

“57… 58 … 59 ...” Kim counts. “Good, take 30 seconds.”

Oscar racks the barbell and sits up, grabbing his water bottle. His eyes catch yours across the room and his face lights up in a smile.

“Hey babe!” He calls out, waving you over.

You weave your way past the ellipticals and weight machines until you’re standing next to him.

“Hey yourself,” you lean down to give him a quick peck. “You’re looking strong this morning.”

“Just trying to get some strength training in before Kim puts me through the ringer later,” Oscar says. “We’ve got the season starting up so I really need to be on my game.”

He takes a long swig from his water bottle as Kim jots down notes on his clipboard.

“So what brings you to the gym so early?” Oscar asks. “I didn’t think 6 am workouts were your thing.”

You shrug. “I was up early and thought maybe we could do breakfast after you’re done?”

“Sounds good to me,” Oscar nods.

Kim clears his throat. "30 seconds are up, time to go again.”

“Duty calls,” Oscar says, getting back into position on the bench.

You step back to give him space, but stay close to chat. Oscar grips the barbell and hoists it up into position over his hips. You glance at the plates stacked on either end, doing some quick math in your head.

“Seems like that’s heavier than last time I dropped by,” you can’t help but comment.

“Sure is,” Kim says proudly before Oscar can respond. “We increased the weight since last week. Gotta keep increasing the load to build muscle.”

You stare at the barbell plates again. Exactly your body weight. Which means ...

Oscar is doing hip thrusts with the equivalent of you lying on top of him.

A little flutter goes through your stomach at the thought. You try to push it aside though. Obviously he isn’t thinking of it that way, it’s just part of his training regimen that Kim has him on. Still, you can’t help but visualize it for a moment.

“Alright, here we go,” Kim says. “Three sets of twenty reps, and … go!”

Oscar begins thrusting the barbell up in controlled motions, breathing out with each lift. You try not to stare, but your eyes keep flicking back to the movement of his hips. There’s something about watching your boyfriend’s pelvis go up and down right in front of you that’s making it hard to look away.

After twenty reps Oscar racks the barbell again. His chest is heaving a little from the exertion.

“Nice work,” Kim says. “How’d that feel?”

“Good,” Oscar says between breaths. “Definitely feeling the burn.”

He catches your eye and must notice you blushing because he adds with a wink, “Enjoying the show, babe?”

You feel your cheeks flush even more. “What? No! I mean, yes? I just … never mind ...” you stammer.

Oscar grins knowingly and takes another sip of water.

Over the next two sets, you try your best not to gawk. You remind yourself that this is serious training. Oscar is an athlete and you need to be respectful.

But still … when he’s finished his final set and Kim tells him to take a longer rest, you can’t help yourself.

“So, the weight you’re thrusting, huh?” You say, trying to sound casual. “That’s kind of a coincidence ...”

“What do you mean?” Oscar asks.

You glance at Kim, who is occupied on his phone. In a lower voice you say, “Well, it’s exactly what I weigh.”

Oscar’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Oh! I didn’t even realize.” A sly grin crosses his face. “Hey, you’re totally right.”

You take a step closer to him, emboldened. “So basically you’re doing hip thrusts with me on top of you.”

Oscar lets out a startled laugh. “When you put it that way ...”

“I have to admit the thought crossed my mind while I was watching you,” you say. You run a hand slowly up his arm. “I think you’re the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Oscar swallows hard, his eyes darkening. “Yeah?” He asks quietly.

You nod, feeling suddenly shy under his intense gaze.

He reaches out and takes your hand, rubbing his thumb in circles over your skin. “Well I can promise you, the real thing is a hundred times better than any training exercise.”

You lace your fingers through his, reveling in his touch. “Why don’t you remind me later?” You ask boldly.

Oscar leans in, his breath hot on your ear. “It would be my pleasure.”

A little shiver runs down your spine at the promise in his words. You want to kiss him right here in the middle of the gym, but Kim finally looks up from his phone.

“Alright, time’s up! Let’s keep moving.”

Oscar gives you a sheepish look as he releases your hand. “Duty calls once again. But rain check for later?”

“Absolutely.” You wink and take a step back so he can get into position for his next set.

You try to pay more attention to his form as he does the next round of hip thrusts. But this time, your mind keeps wandering to what those hips could do under different circumstances. Judging by the smoldering looks Oscar keeps shooting your way between sets, you’re pretty sure he’s thinking the same thing.

By the last set, there’s an obvious tension and heat between you. Oscar holds your gaze as he finishes the final reps, his hips rising and falling rhythmically. You bite your lip, no longer even trying to hide your desire. You want him, and you want him now.

Finally Kim calls time and tells Oscar to start his cool down stretches. As he reaches for his toes, back arched, you sidle up behind him.

“I think you need to stretch out some other muscles too,” you murmur in his ear. “I’d be happy to assist with that later.”

Oscar straightens up with a groan. “You’re killing me here, babe. As soon as we get home ...”

You grin up at him innocently. “Yes?”

He kisses you heatedly, not caring that Kim is still packing up his things nearby. “Why don’t you head out and get breakfast started for us?” He suggests. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

You bite your lip as you back away slowly. “Don’t keep me waiting too long.”

You toss one last flirty wave over your shoulder as you leave the gym, heart racing. You have a feeling breakfast might be the last thing on both of your minds when Oscar gets home. But you love teasing each other like this — it always makes your time together even hotter.

As you drive home, you can’t stop replaying those images of Oscar doing hip thrusts in your mind. Maybe you should start joining those early morning workouts more often …

***

You can barely concentrate as you drive back home. You and Oscar have always had an adventurous and flirtatious relationship, but that encounter at the gym took things to a whole new level.

When you get home, you quickly tidy up the bedroom and kitchen to get things ready for when Oscar arrives. You take a fast shower, letting the hot water relax your excited nerves.

Slipping into a silky robe, you head to the kitchen to start preparing breakfast. You chop fruit, arrange multigrain toast and toppings on a platter, and squeeze fresh orange juice, trying to make everything look as appetizing as possible. Not that food is really on your mind right now, but you want to set the scene perfectly.

Just as you’re pouring two cups of coffee, you hear the front door open. Oscar calls out your name, his voice sending a thrill through your whole body.

“In here!” You call back, straining to keep your tone neutral even as your pulse quickens.

Oscar strides into the kitchen and pauses, eyes sweeping over you hungrily as he takes in the robe and the breakfast you’ve laid out.

“This looks amazing, babe,” he says appreciatively. He comes over and kisses you tenderly. “Thank you for doing all this.”

You smile up at him, arms encircling his neck. “Least I could do after that little show you put on for me. Now come sit down and eat before it gets cold.”

You both take a seat at the kitchen island, filling your plates with fruit, pastries and eggs. The domesticity of sharing a meal together contrasts wildly with the tension still charging the air between you.

Oscar asks about your morning as you eat, keeping the conversation light. But his foot slowly trails up your calf under the table, making your breath hitch. You tell him about your plans to meet up with some friends later in the week. His hand finds your knee, fingers lightly grazing your bare skin. You ask him how training is going, trying to keep your voice even as your whole body tingles.

By the time you’ve both cleaned your plates, you’re squirming in your seat, heart pounding with anticipation. The second Oscar pushes his plate away, you surge forward to kiss him hungrily. All pretense of small talk is dropped — you want him now.

Oscar responds immediately, his strong arms pulling you tight against him as he kisses you deeply. You run your hands over the hard muscles of his chest and arms, feeling them flex and relax under your touch.

“Take me to bed,” you whisper in his ear.

In one smooth motion, Oscar stands and lifts you up into his arms. You wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you effortlessly to the bedroom and lays you down on the bed, his athletic body hovering tantalizingly over yours.

You run your hands up under his shirt, feeling the ripple of abs and obliques. Oscar lets you pull it up over his head before capturing your mouth again, kissing you ravenously.

“Need to feel you,” he groans, hands fumbling to untie your robe. He pushes the silk aside reverently, eyes roaming over your exposed body with undisguised longing.

You arch up into him, gasping as your overheated skin meets his. Oscar kisses down your neck to your collarbone, hands gliding up your ribcage to caress your breasts. You moan his name, back bowing off the bed at the sensation.

“You’re so beautiful,” Oscar murmurs, lips continuing their descent. “I’ve been thinking about this all morning.”

You smile, combing your fingers through his hair. “Well then stop thinking and start doing.”

Oscar laughs, his warm breath fanning over your stomach. “Yes ma’am.”

He kisses lower, fingers trailing down your thighs to nudge them apart. You let your legs fall open with a pleasured sigh, back arching in anticipation.

Oscar starts slow, kissing and licking with delicate flicks of his tongue that have you squirming for more. He grips your hips, holding you still as he finally puts his mouth on you fully.

You cry out as he brings you right to the edge, only to pause and ease up again, keeping you balancing at the precipice.

“Oscar,” you moan urgently.

He smiles against you, knowing exactly what he’s doing to your body. When he finally takes pity on you, the climax rockets through you powerfully, leaving you trembling and breathless.

You pull Oscar up to meet your lips again, tasting yourself on him. “Your turn,” you whisper.

He groans as you quickly flip him onto his back and kiss your way down his taut body. You pull off his shorts torturously slowly, trailing your tongue along his hip crease in a way you know drives him wild.

Finally you take him into your mouth, noting how he’s already hard and straining for you. You smile around him, working him with your lips and tongue until his hips are bucking uncontrollably.

“I need you. I need to be inside you,” Oscar gasps, stilling you.

You release him reluctantly and crawl back up his muscular frame to kiss him hungrily. Oscar grips your hips and then you’re sinking down onto him, crying out at the delicious fullness.

You move together urgently, the restrained desire from earlier in the gym bubbling over as your bodies join again and again. Oscar’s fingers dig into the curves of your hips as he guides you up and down. You brace your hands on his sculpted chest, grinding your hips in little circles that make you both moan.

The pleasure builds rapidly, urged on by the intoxicating intimacy of your entwined bodies. Oscar’s thumb finds your most sensitive spot and starts stroking in time with your movements. The dual sensations send you hurtling over the edge again. Your climax seems to trigger Oscar’s own release. He throws his head back with a ragged groan as he finds his peak deep inside you.

You stay wrapped together as you both catch your breath, hearts pounding against each other’s chests. Oscar strokes your hair back from your face and pulls you in for a lazy kiss, full of satiation.

“Wow,” you sigh, still trembling with aftershocks. “This morning just keeps getting better and better.”

Oscar grins and rolls you both onto your sides, keeping you tucked close. “I guess we have hip thrusts to thank for this extra workout.”

You laugh and kiss his cheek. “Remind me to join your gym sessions more often.”

You lay entwined, trading soft kisses and simply enjoying the intimacy. The frantic passion from moments before simmers down into contented warmth.

Eventually Oscar nuzzles your hair. “As much as I want to stay like this all day, I should probably shower before practice.”

You pout playfully but let him slide out of your arms. He heads to the bathroom and you hear the water turn on a minute later.

Biting your lip, you get an idea. Oscar did say all day ...

You sneak into the steamy bathroom behind him. Through the frosted glass door you can see the outline of his muscular frame under the cascade of water.

Silently, you drop your robe and step into the shower behind him. Oscar turns under the stream, eyes lighting up as he sees you.

“Well hello there,” he grins. “Come here often?”

You press your naked body against his slick skin. “I missed you already.”

Oscar’s arms wrap around you as his lips find yours. “I think we have time for round two before I have to get ready for the afternoon,” he murmurs suggestively.

You smile and reach for the body wash, lathering up your hands. “Better get started then.”

Oscar groans appreciatively as your soapy hands glide over his shoulders and down his chest. You take your time relearning every hard ridge and valley of his athletic physique, paying special attention to the areas still sensitive from your earlier activities.

The combination of cascading water and roaming hands quickly has Oscar hard again. This time he lifts you, pressing your back against the cool tile wall as your legs lock around his hips.

You cry out in bliss at the new angle as he enters you. Oscar braces one hand on the wall and slips the other between you, resuming his earlier attentions. The dual sensation makes your eyes roll back in ecstasy.

“Yes, yes, don’t stop,” you gasp, raking your nails down his back.

Oscar increases his pace, thumb working you relentlessly as he snaps his hips. You feel the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter until it crests explosively, just as Oscar tenses and finds his own peak.

You cling together, slick and sated under the warm spray. Eventually Oscar carefully lowers your weakened legs back to the shower floor, keeping an arm around your waist to support you.

“Okay, now I really need to get ready to head out,” he chuckles.

You sigh contentedly. “Fine, but only if you promise more later.”

Oscar drops a kiss to your shoulder. “Oh I’ll definitely take you up on that.”

As you exit the shower on shaky legs, you exchange a grin. Looks like early morning workouts are going to become a permanent part of your routine from now on.

[dpspcehntr]

Kink Series: Zayne

Rafayel || Xavier || Sylus

Pairing: Zayne x Reader

Word Count: 1.2K

Warnings: temperature play, inappropriate use of evol, oral (f receiving), over stimulation, fingering (f receiving), P in V, cum play, cum eating, cum fetish, cream pie, just so much cum, spitting

A/N: Welcome to part one of this series! I didn't expect to have this much fun with this but I did. These are not beta read so please be nice to me. Continuously spreading my cum fetish Zayne agenda! Also I went kinda wild with this one but I do not regret it. As always reblogs are deeply appreciated and I hope you enjoy.

In between kisses and gropes during your usual office make out sessions you asked him a simple question.

“Can you use your evol on me?”

He didn’t say much, taking your lips into his as he pulled you off his desk and into his lap.

“N-next time. We don’t have enough time tonight.”

He whispered against your lips as he unzipped the fly on your pants. For the week after, all you could think about was the feeling of ice running down your body. You tried on your own to satisfy the itch but nothing was working. You didn’t tell him anything until you found yourself with him naked on top of you kissing you on your off day. With his evol he carefully produces a layer of ice to cover his hand. You watch in excitement as he gently places the hand on your flushed body. The cold of his fingers slowly trace circles around your hard nipples leaving you dizzy with desire. Your back arches into his touch as he tugs on your nipple and takes the other in his mouth. The sensation of cold and warm leaves you breathless as you card your hands into his hair. He groans around you as you arch further into him, grazing his raging hard on with your thigh. He switches nipples, torturing you so deliciously as you moan and writhe for him. You wanted so much more from him but his slow pace was deliberate. He liked it best when you both were so worked up, one orgasm would just never be enough for either of you. You never complained, the wait only made your release feel so much sweeter. His fingertips dance over your skin lower and lower. The cold making your head spin as he drags his middle finger over your inner thigh. You’re dripping onto the sheets below as he presses his fingers into you. You try your best to thrust yourself further onto his fingers but he doesn’t budge, taking his time pushing two fingers into you. His fingers no longer covered in ice still lingering with coldness enter you fully. He presses them deep into you, hitting your g spot. You arch deeper into his touch as he slowly thrusts them in and out of you. He sets a moderate pace, giving you just enough to keep you on the edge as you beg him for more. You feel his composure slowly slipping away as you begin to clench down onto his fingers. His pace quickens as your juices gush over his knuckles and down his hand. You cry out as you ride out your high on his fingers. It’s not enough for you, you need him inside of you right at this moment.

“Zayne please. I need you.”

He shifts his position on the bed as he settles himself between your legs. He lines himself up with your entrance and looks to you. In your blissed out state you can only nod a yes as he begins to slide into you. He takes his time bottoming out, making sure you feel every single inch being thrust into you. The teasing touch of cold long lost in the thrill of being connected once again. You cry out as he pull out and thrusts all the way back inside you. He fills you up so completely, rubbing against your walls so deliciously. You can only lie there and take everything he gives you, too lost in the pleasure of him overwhelming all of your senses. You feel yourself begin to clench down on him as your orgasm quickly builds up. He continues at his pace, drawing out your edge just a bit more. Before long your release crashes over you with a rush. You ride it out as he continues to thrust into you, prolonging your release. HIs pace begins to falter, becoming more desperate. Before he can cum inside you he pulls out of you with a shudder as he paints your stomach and thighs with his cum. You whine at the loss of him but you don’t have to wait long. He leans down hovering over where he just released onto you. He carefully begins to clean up the mess, licking every single drop off of you. You whine and writhe on the bed as he finishes cleaning up the mess he made. The desire coursing through you was almost painful as you watched him swallow every drop. He’s lines himself back up with your entrance and looks up at you.

“Ready?”

He looks into your eyes looking for any hesitation.

“F-fuck. Yes.”

Overwhelmed by what you just witnessed and blissfully fucked out you greedily agree for another. He thrusts back into you completely as you arch into him. He grips your hips and thrust you back onto him as you moan out his name. It was all too much for you and another orgasm crashes over you. You can’t keep track of when the orgasms start and stop as he plows into you chasing his own high. His thrusts become irregular as his own release is close. With one more thrust he paints your insides white. He groans loudly as he comes down from his orgasm. He pulls out once more and watches his cum leak out of you. He leans down and carefully licks from your clit to your dripping hole. You buck into him as he scopes his cum out of you with his tongue. Your clit throbs as another orgasm builds up inside you. He slurps and sucks you like a madman, savoring the taste of you mixing together. His grip on your thighs tightens as he feels you clenching down on his tongue. You grip a fist full of his hair and pull hard as your orgasm crashes down on you. The pressure bursting as you squirt over his face. He doesn't let up, sucking you until your legs start shaking. One orgasm rolls into the next as your voice goes hoarse from moaning. He eventually pulls away after having his fill. He sits up and leans over you. You look into his eyes as he leans in further, inches from your lips.

"Open up."

He spits the rest of his cum and your squirt into your mouth and your swallow it greedily. You pull him in for a heated kiss, licking the taste of both of you from his mouth. You stay locked in a heated embrace before you both pull away for air. You collapse onto the bed in exhaustion as he rolls over to the spot next to you. He pulls you close for a moment, just enjoying the feeling of you in his arms.

*the next morning*

In the morning, you wake up snuggled tight into Zayne's arms. A glass of water and a bottle of pain medicine sits on your bedside table, he must've cleaned you up in the night. You ease yourself out of bed and make your way to the bathroom to freshen up. Before long you hear the door open as a sleepy Zayne trudges in. He settles into your shoulder, his arms draped loosely around your waist. He kisses your neck before looking at you in the mirror.

"Apologies for last night. I got a bit carried away in the passions of the evening."

He blushes and avoids looking into your eyes in the mirror.

"If you're talking about spitting in my mouth, I enjoyed it. No need to apologize if I liked it."

He sheepishly makes eye contact with you in the mirror and nods. You wonder what else he's capable of when the passion takes over as your cheeks flush thinking of next time.

[nereidprinc3ss]

come on home

in which the only person who can comfort you after your breakup with spencer reid, is spencer reid

inspired by the song "summer's end" by the artist currently known as phoebe bridgers

wc 2857

warnings: gn!reader (correct me if im wrong), minor mommy issues, angst, happy ending

a/n: thank you to the person who requested this:) u r an angel and I listened to this song the whole time i wrote (if you haven't heard, listen!!) i sincerely hope you enjoy, i like this one a lot<3

She hung up on you. 

Forty-seven minutes of being insulted and berated after you’d called her looking for comfort, and you put up with every single cruel word—just for your mother to hang up on you. And it’s exactly the kind of thing she’d do, so you shouldn’t be surprised. An ache, you’d expect—but it shouldn’t sting like this. You thought you knew better. 

Now you’re in a ball on your couch, clutching your phone to your chest and crying. There’s no point hiding it. Your roommate is out with her girlfriend for the evening—which is too bad because even though you feel like being alone, you’re sure that’s the wrong call. Your other friends are out having fun tonight, too. They’d even invited you, but you turned them down. Look where that had gotten you. Obviously, your mother is not the person you’re about to run to for comfort, either. 

You try to pretend, while you’re thinking of all these people who have ever cared for you, that Spencer Reid isn’t on your mind at all. You try to pretend like you don’t care that the person who loved you until you believed you actually deserved it is a contact going stale deep in the bowels of your text cache. With bleary eyes you scroll down, looking for your conversation where it gathers dust—the end of your relationship was a mutual decision, and you’re friendly, but you haven’t texted in a few weeks. Probably because every time the conversation starts to feel a little too easy, or the phone call lasts a little too long, that aching void in your chest gets worse and worse. Like pain in a phantom limb, you become acutely aware of what you do not have and how much it hurts.  

So blame it on the tears, or the mind-muddling melodrama of your relationship with your mother, blame it on anything but the truth—when your thumb drops on that call button like the plunger on a syringe, you don’t regret it.  

What you’re not expecting is for him to answer after the first ring. 

“Hi,” you say with a snuffle before Spencer can get a word in. There’s a brief interlude, in which you pick at your nails, comfortable to just sit in silence if that’s what he wants. As long as he’s there. 

“Hi.” Hearing his voice instantly melts a bit of the weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying. Another pause, for which you remain silent, because you can feel him formulating a question—and you’d like to hear him speak again. “...am I allowed to ask if you’re okay?” 

Your lips purse and twist to the side, pained and comforted by how easily he can tell that you’re distraught. One word across a tinny connection, and he knows. 

“No. Yes. I mean... I guess that’s why I called you. But you don’t have to ask me about it.” You sniff again and take a deep breath. “How was your day? What state are you in?” 

“I’m in the district,” he answers after a moment, easing into a casualness that he likely doesn’t feel for your sake. Wind crunches through the speaker. He probably just got out of work. “My day was... it was good. I got to talk about my job to a bunch of elementary schoolers, which is always a confidence boost.” 

You chuckle, still laying on your side on the couch and watching storm clouds gathering outside. 

“Nice, nice. What else?” 

“Let’s see... I forgot lunch, so I had three oranges, and they were actually pretty good. I reread Game of Thrones—I don’t know why I did that. I’m never going to like that book.” 

“Masochist,” you smile. He laughs, and you hear the sound of a car door opening. 

“Oh! I talked to my mom. Believe it or not, she says hi.” 

A completely inadvertent snort constitutes your response. It’s not what you meant to do, and out of context it’s sort of mean, but you actually think it’s incredibly endearing that he still talks to his mother about you. He scrambles to explain himself. 

“I swear, we barely talked about you this time. Mostly we talked about her new boyfriend Leonard.” 

“No, no, that’s not... I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you or your mom. That’s really sweet, actually. Tell her I say hi too.” 

When he next speaks, you can hear the smile in his voice. 

“I will.” Another long pause. You imagine him sitting in the parking lot at Quantico, keys vertical in the ignition of his old car and feeling the silence just as much as you are. He surprises you by not ending the conversation—instead he asks a question. It is concern, poorly disguised with nervous humor. Or maybe you just know him too well. “Do I get to find out what’s on your mind, or are you leaving me in suspense here?”  

You bite the inside of your cheek. 

“Um... well, actually, I just got off the phone with my mom, too. It didn’t go so well,” you laugh halfheartedly, “I know it was dumb to try and have an actual conversation with her, but... you know me. Always following blind optimism to the depths of hell.” 

“Why’d you call your mom?” he asks, so gently it brings a fresh round of tears to your eyes. Still, you attempt to put a cheerful affect on your strained voice. 

“Mm, you know. Just needed someone to talk to.” 

Spencer’s knowing sigh does little to make you feel better. 

“You know you can always talk to me, right? I know it’s... it’s different now, but... I care about you a lot. And, you know, I receive very few phone calls, so the line is pretty much always open.” 

Your laugh quickly devolves into a cry. 

“I appreciate that, but I can’t talk to you about everything.” 

“Why not?” he pleads immediately, voice thin and desperate like it’s his most burning question. A million lies dance over the tip of your tongue. A million things that feel safer to say than the truth. But in the end, it comes out anyway—choked, and so quiet, but aloud nonetheless. 

“Because I’m trying really hard to stop missing you so much.” 

Another long beat of silence. The back of your throat feels dry and hollow—a cage for your hummingbird heart. 

“If it hurts too much to talk to me, you don’t need to do that to yourself. But I also don’t want you to hurt yourself thinking you’re alone. You are... so important to me. I will always try to take care of you the best I can—whether that means staying away or being at your front door. If you ever need me, or even... vaguely want me, I will be there.” 

Each word caves your resolve. Each syllable is a slap in the face to progress you’d been pretending to make. You can be strong—you've proven that over the past ten weeks. You can be stone-faced and slash at your heart until the scar tissue is thick and jagged, and eventually it won’t hurt anymore. But maybe, by letting someone tend to the wounds, they’ll heal a little nicer. A little kinder. Even if you can’t undo the damage, maybe one day you’ll be soft again. 

“What if I vaguely want you right now?” you sniffle. 

Finally, you hear the silver jingle of keys turning. The sputter and rumble of an old engine coming to life. 

“Then I’m on my way.” 

Twenty four minutes later, there’s a soft knock at your door.  

After the call had ended, you’d wondered if you made it all up. Surely your ex-boyfriend wasn’t actually about to show up at your apartment. Someone you’ve grieved for can’t just come back—there are countless horror novels and movies based upon that very tenet. Does it matter if they ever actually died? How long is ten weeks, really? It feels like a lifetime. 

You shuffle across the room, wiping under your eyes with your already damp sleeves, and undoing all the locks Spencer had conditioned you to start using. When the door cracks open, and you see Spencer standing there, windswept and concerned, for the first time in months, it hits you like a tidal wave. You are, beyond a shadow of a doubt, still just as in love with him as you ever were. The relief that floods your veins as he looks down at you with so much care in his eyes is like sinking into warm water. It’s a dead giveaway, and maybe it makes this whole thing a terrible idea, but you can’t seem to care very much. You open the door wider, and he enters, and he stands in your kitchen with his hands in his coat pocket as you shut the door and he’s perfect. It dawns on you that for the first time since the breakup, you feel safe. Like you don’t have to be a stone pillar anymore. This, of course, translates into even more tears, which you try to hide as you face away, re-locking the door.  

“Sweetheart...” he sighs, because you can’t hide anything from him. Hearing the resonance of his voice so close to you once more is overwhelming. In an instant you’re rushing into his arms, and he accepts you without hesitation. You bury your teary face in the vetiver safety of his button-up and slip your arms under his coat, as if you could absorb his warmth and forever hide from the world that way. He pulls you even closer. It’s terrible and cruel how much he is exactly what you needed. “What’s wrong? What did she say?” 

You shake your head and gasp a small sob. 

Truthfully, you’re not really crying about the petty insults from your mother anymore. You’re back to square one, the reason you’d called your mother to begin with—you miss the man whose arms are currently wound around your shoulders. 

His hand smooths over the back of your hair. 

“Okay. That’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.” 

You stay like that—content even as you cry because being with him feels so much safer than being alone. It feels right—or perhaps it’s just familiar. You don’t know which is worse.  

Spencer is rubbing soothing lines up and down your back as you cling to him, soaking him up in all his ephemeral, comforting glory. He surprises you by chuckling—it vibrates through his chest, buzzing against your ear. 

“Nice Magritte print. I bet the person who bought that has fantastic taste.” 

“Are you gonna ask for it back?” you mumble into the fabric of his suit jacket. He is, of course, referring to the painting you’d more or less stolen from his apartment seven months ago. You really don’t want him to take it home. It’s the most overt Spencer memorabilia you’d allowed yourself to keep in plain sight. 

“No, baby. You can keep it.” The words are low, and kind, and they settle you some, but you can’t seem to get him close enough. “What can I do?” he whispers after a moment, helpless as you take a shuddering breath. “Can I make you tea? Have you eaten?” 

“Will you just... stay for a little bit? I’ll—I promise I’ll stop crying.” 

There is an unexpected lull where you thought you’d receive pretty immediate agreement, but before you can pull back and ask what’s wrong, he murmurs, “yeah. I can stay for a while. But you have to kick me out before it gets too late.” 

You wonder if you’re imagining the double-entendre that seems to underline his words in bold red ink. Spencer is too smart to have not noticed a thing like that. You don’t mention it—it all boils down to the same unspoken idea. 

Don’t let me stay, because I might not leave. 

“I will,” you sniff, finally stepping back and wiping your own tears. It hurts to lose his touch, but at least you know he’s not going anywhere for the next few hours. This, as opposed to everything else lately, can be a beginning instead of an end.  

At least, until he goes home. 

Three and a half hours later, after tea, an impromptu dinner comprised mostly of cheese and crackers, and several vinyl changes on your record player (which served only as background noise for your long, ambling conversations), things are seeming to wind down to a natural stopping point. Which you hate. The whole time you’d had a dull ache in your chest because talking to him was easier than breathing and you knew it wouldn’t last. There had been one or two false bottoms already—the first when you’d yawned around nine, and the second when you’d gotten up to do your skincare and brush your teeth half an hour later. Even then he’d just leaned against the doorframe, watching your reflection above the sink as you talked for fifteen more minutes. Now you stand across from each other in the kitchen, plates restacked and everything in order. Of course he’d insisted on helping you clean up. 

“I should go,” he says, with a soft sort of finality in his voice.  

“Is your carriage turning into a pumpkin?” you tease gently, to hide how much you don’t want him to leave. He smiles—a small, weary thing—but genuinely and endlessly charmed by you. 

“That among other things.” 

“Would you—would you walk me to my room first?” 

The hesitance is clear in his eyes and the way his lips part as if to say, ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea’, but you're sure he’s really going to leave in a moment and you’re also sure he won’t deny you this one small thing before he does. 

“Okay.” 

It’s a short, silent walk through the living room and down the hall to your bedroom door, but you can feel him trailing behind you the whole way. You stop in front of your open door, turning face to face with him.  

“Thanks,” you murmur.  

His lips pull into a melancholy smile. 

“Anytime.” 

There’s nothing left to do but wrap your arms around each other once more, tuck yourself into the you-sized space between his head and shoulder and hold on for as long as he’ll let you. The hug lingers for longer than is wise. Spencer adjusts his arms looped around your waist, pulling you closer, and you nuzzle against his neck, grateful that at least he seems as reluctant to let this end as you are.  

But eventually, it relaxes. Your hold on each other loosens. His face is just inches from yours, and you get to study every plane and valley and line like you’d thought you never would again. It seems he’s doing the same—losing himself in the luxury of seeing you up close. 

“Will you kiss me goodnight?” you whisper, unable to muster any self-consciousness though you know it’s a fool’s errand. Spencer strokes your waist. 

“I can’t do that, honey.” 

“Why not?” 

His voice is just as quiet as yours. It falters slightly as he speaks, so gently, so patiently. 

“Because we’re not together anymore.” 

“Why not?” 

Your feeble, desperate supplication sounds pitiable even to you. You’re not proud, but you can’t find it in yourself to be ashamed, either. All you want is an answer. But it’s like a child asking why the sky is blue, or the earth is round. There is a definitive explanation, but mostly, the adult will shrug, and say, that’s just how it is. 

Spencer’s eyes squeeze shut. His head tilts down. 

“We can’t do this again, sweetheart. You know why we’re not together.” 

In theory—yes. You’d had so many conversations when you’d broken up. It had been a long, painful process, spanning multiple all-nighters at his kitchen table, nursing coffee and trying to convince each other and yourselves that it was the right choice. But it just feels like a horrible, horrible mistake. You feel desperate to explain this to him before he slips away again—the words come out flustered, inelegant as you cling to him.

“But I don’t think I’m getting better without you. I tried, I tried so hard to be good on my own, but everything is worse and harder and—and we weren’t sure about it then, and I don’t think it was the right choice, because I still really need you. Like, all the time. I’m—it’s not getting better without you. Nothing got better.” 

He swallows, eyes darting between yours for an infinite second. You’re breathless and your heart is pounding after your confession—you can feel your eyes stinging with the few tears that managed to escape as you spoke. 

“Everything is worse,” he agrees shakily. “Everything. I’m—I’m getting disciplinary infractions from Hotch like I’m a child because I can’t focus on anything. Game of Thrones is the most complex literature I can comprehend right now. I had to use a calculator the other day.” 

You want to laugh, but nothing is funny until he’s yours again. 

“Then come back. Please come back, Spencer.” 

Finally, he leans closer, until your heads are pressed together, and his nose bumps yours, feather light. You're dizzy. You exhale. He inhales. 

“I don’t think I knew how to leave in the first place.” 

When he kisses you, it feels like home. 

[citricacidprince]

I wanted to ask if you can make a doodle of that drifting star gravity falls au but it’s relativity falls. Stan gets sucked into the portal and Dipper has to take care of him.

Took a hot second but I finally did it!!!

This family makes me wanna lose my mind I adore them so so much <333

(Sorry it’s a bit messy and clunky, my brain is fried atm lol)

Notes under cut!

I like to think that Dipper is oh so tired and is trying so hard to find a way to kill Bill so he can get back home to his sister as fast as he possibly can that he’s sooooo willing to aim guns at people. Like sure a laser gun works fine most of the time, but it’s soooo much easier to bring lead to a knife fight, ya know?

Stanley would think Dipper is so fucking cool and Dipper has to do a double take because no one has ever called him cool and meant it

Stanley is wearing a mini version of his homeless hoodie, as a treat :]

Mabel was inconsolably crying for a hot second after this all happened and Stanford was utterly pissed and in denial, weakly kicking her and hitting her with his little baby arms to bring his brother back

Mabel manages to reverse engineer the memory gun to erase the government agents minds, but unlike Dipper, who could’ve done it in 5 minutes tops, it takes her about an hour, so she tells Stanford about her brother Dipper and everything that happened while she does so

While doing this she asked Boyish Dan to block the door and gave him permission to beat up anyone who tried to get in, something the concussed teen was very happy to hear

They manage to buy time, and thankfully Mabel already knows how to open the portal again, but it’s gonna take a week or two maximum to get it fully running again

Stanford is still very very pissed, but it’s a silent and resigned anger aimed at Mabel. She lied to them all summer, she not who she said she was, she won’t stop apologizing when she looks at him now, how could he not be mad?

Besides it’s easier to be mad when the alternative is being so sad you feel nauseous over the fact your brother is missing, you have no clue if he’s okay or even alive, and every passing moment is making you regret trying to push him away all summer because you miss his stupid jokes and laughter and antics so bad it makes you steal all the blankets off his bed and praying to something, anything, that he’s going to be okay so you can just hug him one more time.

Mabel isn’t doing very well either. She completely locked down the Shack until she can bring Stanley and Dipper home. She told Dan and Anjelita that they didn’t have to come to work, something Anjelita gladly accepted, while Dan insisted that he could help. After all you expect him to go home and be normal about this later??? He got a concussion and punched an FBI agent so hard he passed out. He’s in this for the long haul.

I don’t want Stanley and Dipper stuck in that portal for longer than a week, because even if Mabel and Ford opening that portal again would cause Weirdmageddon they don’t care in the slightest, they just want their brothers to come home

[seratopia]

miguel o'hara x reader (fluff) - intoxicated → she/her pronouns!

modern ceo au! what happens when miguel is drunk

It's extremely rare when Miguel goes out to drink with coworkers, it's rare enough when Miguel gets out to go anywhere in general. He's either cooped up in his office, glued to his work, or glued to you at home.

You suggested to Miguel earlier this week about getting out to a bar, along with a few of the other higher-ups of the company. It's healthy to get out, you said, even if all he's going to be doing is drinking alcohol and eating meat.

Miguel's only good with people in a more professional sense; he's not the best at being all buddy-buddy with people he usually works with. He's quiet the entire time he's at the bar, occasionally taking a bored nibble at a bowl of loaded fries.

He kind of regrets this; surrounded by loud music, loud people, TV's with sports games playing in the background. He just misses you, he wants to come home and make food with you.

One of his coworkers, nudged him in the side a bit, obviously gesturing towards the wide array of various drinks and juices.

"Might as well have a drink while you're at it." He says, and Miguel is just stone-faced the entire time. The man walks away towards the remaining group of coworkers, possibly to either go dance, or to stare at girls from afar.

Considerably, it's been a while since he's had a drink. One or two wouldn't hurt, especially as a last minute scrounge for enjoyment in this god-awful bar.

Slowly, Miguel nurses on a drink provided by a suspiciously sleek bartender, leaning his cheek into his palm whilst taking a couple sips. He can feel the wolfish eyes of various women & men staring at him, feeling somehow exposed in his tight white button-up and simple pants. If only you were here, to sit in his lap and run your little hands against his chest.

The thought makes his head spin, a violent hot warmth running up his cheeks, his mind being blurred like a smudge on someone's reading glasses. The room's almost tilting sideways, the thoughts in his head dissolving away. (miguelito is a lightweight because i say so)

Miguel's drunk, for the first time in literal years.

He doesn't like it; he feels out of control of his body, unable to think or function correctly. He feels like a different person entirely, his eyes replaced with jelly and the tips of his ears turning scarlet.

The drink tasted good and all, but Miguel's thoughts on you feel magnified, every feature, every action you do running through his head like a cassette tape. He misses you more, and he really wants to see you.

Cleverly, he pulls out his phone, sighing to himself on the counter. It takes him a moment to put in his phone password correctly, fingers drunkenly tapping on the screen until he can find your contact.

. . .

You receive a text notification at about 9:43. Expectedly, you knew Miguel probably wouldn't make it through the whole night, but you're proud of him for trying. You open up your phone, amidst watching a show in bed.

miguelito💞💓: My love, I am intoxicated.

The text makes you giggle a little, imagining him all red-faced and tripping over himself with his coworkers.

Conveniently, you receive another text, one from the person you asked to keep an eye on Miguel.

It's a picture of Miguel with his head leaned against the counter, lovingly zooming in on a picture of your face with his phone. His ears are red, and there's a half-drunken drink beside him.

james q: he says he misses you. want me to take him home? you: it's okay, thanks tho. i'll be there in 10 to get him. james q: 👍

Assuming Miguel's still on his phone, you shoot him a text.

you: i see u looking at me

You giggle to yourself, and Miguel is visibly both shocked and excited, peering left to right as if you were magically in the bar.

miguelito💞💓: Please pick me up. I hate it here. you: ok sweetie, be there in 10

. . .

Despite the hour, the bar is bustling as ever, populated with underage girls wearing slip dresses and drunk frat boys. You worm through the building, searching left and right for your husband through the cacophonous bar.

Finally, you spot him where the counter is, big head tucked into crossed arms.

Gently, you slip your hand onto his shoulder, warmly rubbing him awake. At first he flinches, staring at you as if you were a stranger. He relaxes a few seconds later, lovingly and drunkenly fixating on you.

"Hey hun, I'm here to take you home." You say, and Miguel feels so warm, so comforted in contrast to the rash environment of the pub. He wants to kiss you, but he's too drunk to focus.

Without a word, Miguel rises from his bar stool, arms and hands immediately inching around your shoulders. He doesn't realize it, but he's pressing more of his body weight onto you, leaning on top of you like a slug.

Seeing you roll away the finest, sexiest piece of man as if it were nothing makes the party around you fume, their thoughts of asking for a number shattered within a minute or two.

Miguel trails after you, gluing himself to your back as you maneuver yourself out of the stuffy bar. Finally, you're out in the cool air of the dark, muffled edm music booming from the block's other counterparts.

The sidewalk is somewhat barren, scattered with a few people smoking or walking.

"I missed you, s'much." Miguel slurs, seeing the outline of your car in the dark parking lot.

"I know you did, baby. Now you get to come home with me and we can do whatever you want, like we promised." You say, unlocking your car with the press of your key.

He smiles just a teensy bit, his heart warming at the thought of snuggling up to you in bed, or cooking a late-night meal of sorts with you while a show plays in the background.

Miguel's the passenger princess tonight, adjusting the seat backwards so he can actually sit. He stares at you the entire time through bleary eyes, watching you start the car as if it were the most artistic and most beautiful thing ever.

"I love you." Miguel says, and you can feel the gratuity in his voice.

"I love you too."

© 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒑𝒊𝒂.

[coldfanbou]

It Wasn't Supposed To Be Like This

New week, new fic, and things don't go well. Beware of cucking

Length 3.4K

IU smut

“Jieun, you're so plain. Why don’t you spice up your relationship? Have some fun with your sex life.” Kang Han-na said as she playfully slapped Jieun.

“I’m not plain; we just like keeping things simple. We don’t need very much.”

“Exactly, don’t you want to be wild? My boyfriend and I have been having a lot of fun. We try all kinds of things: rough sex, bondage, cucking. You name it, and we’re going to try it.”

“Cucking? What’s that?”

“Oh? That one caught your eye?” Han-na says with a smirk; she places her hands on the table, placing her head on top of them as she explains. “Cucking is having some guy fuck you while your partner watches, or vice versa. It was so much fun; I had the time of my life. I had two guys fucking me while he just watched and jerked off. You should totally do it.”

Jieun rubs her legs, anxious about being with someone else. “No, I could never do that to him.” 

“You’re missing out, Jieun. You have to live a little. I can always hook you up with the guys I had; they will make you feel like you never have.” Han-na continues speaking to Jieun about the topic until they go their separate ways. During the entire walk home, Jieun’s mind is filled with images as she sees every scene that Han-na described in her head. She grips her bag a little tighter as she walks.

You sit across from Jieun, eating your dinner as you converse. “Are you sure about this?” You ask, a little unsure about her proposition. “I really don’t feel too comfortable about it.” You tell her, fidgeting in your seat.

“It’s okay. We don’t have to if you don’t want to. It’s just something a friend of mine has been into, and she thought it could be good for us, but I understand where you’re coming from.” Jieun gives you a soft smile, trying to reassure you. You’ve been dating for over two years and know each other well enough. She places her hand on yours, “I’m not going to push you to try it. Honestly, the idea makes me nervous, too.” You know both of you want to explore in the bedroom, but it’s mostly with toys. You don’t want to deny yourselves the chance to try new things. 

“I-I’ll have to think about it more. I just want to be the only one with you.”

“I know; I want to be with you too.” Jieun cups your cheek and leans over the table, giving you a sincere kiss before sitting back in her chair. The two of you finish your dinner and head to bed. The two of you lay in bed, Jieun curled into your chest. Her light breathing is barely audible as she clutches your shirt. You wrap your arms around her, holding her against you tightly as you fall asleep.

The following day, Jieun prepares herself, putting on her earrings as she speaks to you. “I’m going out with Han-na, today. I’ll be home by two.” She yells from the bathroom.

“Okay, I’ll see you then.”

Jieun kisses you on the cheek and hugs you before she leaves, heading to a cafe to meet her friend. Spotting Han-na from outside, she hurries and sits with her friend. “Han-na! It’s nice to see you. Have you been waiting for a long time?”

“No, I just got here.” The two chat about their recent schedules and workouts before the topic takes a turn. “So, did your boyfriend like the idea?”

“Not really; you have to understand it would be a big step for us. Besides, it’s not something I really want to try either.”

“Oh, but it’s great. It spices your sex life up. My boyfriend and I have been doing it forever. He loves watching me.” Jieun nods her head, a slight frown on her. “I’m sure he would love it too.” The two continue their conversation, with Han-na convincing Jieun to talk to you again.

Jieun returns home just as she said she would. Hearing the TV on in the living room, she throws herself at you, laying her head on your lap. “What’s going on Jieun?”

“I just want to lay here for a bit,” Jieun says, pouting. 

You poke her cheek, “Don’t frown like that. It’s okay.” You tell her, running your hands through her hair. 

“Hey, I’ve been thinking about last night. I want to do it.” 

Your eyes shoot down to Jieun, “You want to?”

“Yeah, Han-na says that they do it all the time and that they’re all the better for it and stronger for it. I think that it’ll be good for us.” 

You're hesitant, scared even. “Jieun, I’m not sure. Han-na is…well, she’s different.”

Jieun sits up, “Just this once. If you don’t feel good after, then that’s it. We never try it again.” Her voice was forceful, and you saw the determination in her eyes.

“I guess. If you want to do it so bad.”

Jieun wraps her arms around you, holding you tightly. “Thanks, honey. I just want you to remember that I love you and only you.”

You felt a pit in your stomach; you didn’t like the idea one bit, but you wanted Jieun to be happy. 

That night, she came to you wearing just a pair of white panties. She covered her chest as she walked toward you, biting her lip and struggling to maintain eye contact.“I want to thank you for letting us explore a little bit.” Jieun straddles your lap. She helps you get your shirt off and kisses you softly. She places your hands on her waist, and you grip her softly, staring into her loving eyes as she kisses you. Her hands rest on your chest as your bulge grows harder between her legs. Jieun smiles as she feels it. Her hips move back and forth; she rubs your cock against her crotch, letting out soft moans and mewing. The moonlight dances across her delicate skin as she shifts her weight. “I love you,” She moans. “Please, take me,” Jieun says, staring into your eyes. 

You roll her over onto her back and pull off her panties. She is clean-shaven, and a blush forms across her face when you glance at her. You smile at her and toss the panties to the side before crawling over her and kissing her neck. Jieun wraps her arms around your head, gently pulling you in to tell you to keep going. You grab your cock, stroking it slowly before pressing it against her cunt. Jieun shuts her eyes and moans as she feels you push in. Her walls are pushed apart as you move in. You continue to nip at her neck, giving her more pleasure as you bury yourself inside her. You wait a moment, staring at her as her eyes flutter open. She gives you a slight nod, and you begin moving. You tell her how much she means to you as you thrust. Jieun smiles back at you, listening to your words carefully as she locks her legs around your waist. She pulls you into a kiss, her lips forming a smile as they’re pressed against yours. “I love you so much.” She says, her legs tightening around you. Your thrusts continue at a slow pace as you enjoy her body. Jieun’s moans slowly rise as she reaches her climax, and her grip over you tightens.

You press your lips against Jieun’s, marking your love for her as you bury yourself inside her and cum. She’s breathless as she feels your warm cum move inside her; a gentle smile forms as she pulls you into a hug. The two of you remain in your embrace for a few minutes. You slowly pull out and lay beside her until you both drift off to sleep. 

The next morning, you and Jieun discuss the ground rules for what would be allowed. When you feel uncomfortable, you remind yourself that Jieun wants to try new things and that maybe you would enjoy it, too. Han-na gives Jieun the phone numbers of a couple of guys, John and Al, and soon, everything is set. She had made the calls nervously but managed to get them to come over.

When the day arrived, Jieun shyly welcomed them into your home, dressed only in her underwear as she led them back into the bedroom. She laid on the bed, bringing them up to it. They disrobed first, presenting her their cocks. She took one in each hand, stroking them slowly; it was the first time she would be with someone else, let alone two people at once.

You were uncomfortable with the situation from the start. Al and John touched Jieun, their hands wandering her body as you sat there. Jieun was focused on them, her moans moving through the room as they stripped her of her underwear. Once she had bared it all to them, they explored her body. John ran his fingers along her stomach; once he reached her cunt he pushed two fingers inside. Jieun squirmed, her legs trapping his hand in place as her lips formed an O. Al pulled on her nipples roughly, making them stretch before letting go. Jieun smiled. She was enjoying all the attention she was getting from them. He was the first to make a move; Al grabbed his cock and stuffed it into her mouth without a care. 

Jieun’s eyes shot open; she looked at him as her lips stretched around his cock, forming a tight seal. Jieun moaned around it, John’s fingers still moving inside her cunt. “That’s it bitch, lick it like you love it,” Al grunted as he held Jieun’s face and thrust over half his length into her mouth. Jieun’s eyes began to water, and she struggled to take it in.

John had enough watching and pulled his fingers out of Jieun, wiping them off on her stomach before moving her onto all fours. She continued to suck on Al’s cock, her tongue moving up and down his shaft as she felt John press his cock against her cunt. “Oh, you’re going to be a tight one,” he says before ramming his entire length inside Jieun. Her scream is muffled; you notice her gripping the bedsheets tightly. John didn’t wait, thrusting quickly into Jieun’s cunt, slapping her ass. Jieun bounces from one cock to the other; John’s thrusts cause her body to lurch forward into Al’s. You watched as Jieun got into it, her senses leaving her. Jieun’s grip slowly loosens; she places her hands on Al’s thighs as she bobs her head as best she can. Her eyes become half-lidded, and her scream soon turns to moans. “Fuck Jieun, you’re so tight.” John groans as he grips her waist, pulling her back into her thrusts.

Jieun was enjoying herself; that much was clear. As the pleasure came in, her body began to loosen. She reached down, cupping Al’s balls as she bobbed her head. “You’re a dirty bitch.” He commented. She glanced up at him before her eyes returned downward. “I’m going to cum, I want you to drink it all.” Jieun nodded her head. As Al’s cock began to throb, he pushed Jieun’s head to the base. She was choking on his cock as he came, her mouth was filled with his semen, and it spilled out of her, running down her chin. Jieun coughs as he pulls out, but her hand reaches up, stroking his cock. She stares into his eyes as she licks her lips. Her eyes were red, and her face was a mess.  

“Can I have some more?” She asks. Those were the first words out of her mouth since this began, and they hurt you. You may have had a hard-on, but you weren’t enjoying this. You felt dejected and stayed quiet as they continued.

Al smiles and grabs Jieun’s hair, pulling her back onto his cock and letting her tongue go to work. John continued his thrusts, each one with increasing speed. “Shit, I’m going to cum. I’m going to do it inside.” John reaches over, rubbing her clit quickly and shocking Jieun with the sudden mass of pleasure.

“Give it to me, cum inside me,” Jieun said, pulling away from Al just to say that. Your mouth drops that was against the rules you had set up together. John doesn’t hesitate, impaling Jieun on his cock and cumming inside her pussy. Jieun’s body shakes, and she cums on his cock. She revels in the feeling of his warm cum inside her; there’s a look of pure bliss on her face. Her tongue slows to a crawl as it moves over Al’s cock. She was lost in a world of pleasure. You saw the dazed look in her eyes as they pulled out of her and switched places. John didn’t need to say a word; Jieun reached for his cock and wrapped her lips around it, bobbing her head and moaning as she felt Al push his cock into her aching pussy. 

They continued for some time, and Jieun begged for Al to cum in her too. Their cum mixed inside her as she continued her blowjob. John decided to dirty her even more, coating her face in his cum and leaving her a tired mess on the bed as they got dressed and left. 

You’re sitting in the corner of the room, feeling absolutely disheartened that Jieun would break the rules you had in place and never want to do this again. “Jieun…” You say, too depressed to even ask your question.

“Come here, I want more,” Jieun says in a tired voice. You look up to see Jieun spreading her folds, revealing the cum-coated cunt. You didn’t want to see her like this. It was a far departure from the woman you knew. 

When you didn’t come to her, Jieun crawled off the bed, staying on her knees as she approached you. She pulled out your cock and began sucking it. Her tongue lapped at it as if she was a hungry beast. Her hand stroked the base of your cock as she looked up at you. There was cum across her face, running down it as worked your cock. You couldn’t hold back, and came in her mouth, feeding her appetite. Jieun pulled away slowly, moving toward the bed and bending herself over it, shaking her ass for you. “Come on, baby. I want your cock.” 

You watch as cum runs down her leg and look at her ass; it’s bright red from John’s slaps. You stand up slowly and get behind Jieun, thrusting slowly and trying to recapture the feelings from the other night. “Harder, give it to me harder,” Jieun says in a depraved voice. Your heart dropped at that moment; she wasn’t the same person. You continue thrusting at your pace, eventually getting Jieun there. She lays on the bed, sleeping there as you head out for a walk. You try to digest everything you saw, believing she couldn’t change like that. You were just blowing things out of proportion.

When you return home, you find Jieun stepping out of the bathroom. “Honey! There you are.” She says, running over to hug you. “That was great, wasn’t it?” She says with a beaming smile. “I can’t wait to do it again.” You give her a half-hearted smile and sit on the couch in the living room. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

You let out all your feelings. “I don’t want to do that again. Jieun, it hurt to see you like that, and you broke one of the rules. We said you weren’t going to let them cum inside. I-I just don’t want to do this again.” You say, tears forming in your eyes. Jieun sits next to you silently, patting your back. “This was a mistake; I want it to be just you and me.” She doesn’t say a word, just wrapping her arms around you and patting your back. You continued to explain your feelings on the subject until you exhausted yourself. 

During the night, Jieun thought to herself about what you said. Her thoughts slowly went back to how John and Al handled her; she reached down, fingering herself as she recalled it all. She couldn’t let it be a one-time thing; the temptation lingered in her. The next morning, you woke up on the couch, not feeling comfortable enough to sleep in your bed with Jieun. You wish her well as you head off to work. Jieun sits at home, talking with Han-na. “So, how was it? Did you both enjoy it?”

“It was great Han-na. John and Al did so many things to me. I felt so dirty.” Jieun says, her fingers moving to her slit as she imagines them taking her again. “They were so rough with me.”

“Yeah, they’re like that. What about your boyfriend? Did he enjoy it?”

Jieun pauses, knowing what the truth is. “Y-yeah, he enjoyed it too.”

“That’s great; most couples try it and figure out they can’t do it. It’s super important to respect each other’s feelings with this sort of thing, you know?” 

Jieun nods her head, “Yeah, very important.” A pang of guilt hits her as their conversation continues, and Jieun details what they did.

As days pass, Jieun increasingly thinks about the experience; the temptation is getting to her. You come home, opening the door, and calling out to Jieun. You don’t hear a response, but you hear something that makes your heart drop. Moans were coming from the bedroom. You approach slowly, hoping your mind is playing tricks on you. The door was open just a crack, but it was enough to send your world spiraling. You felt like throwing up as you saw Jieun being taken by John and Al; they were taking her ass and pussy. “Harder! I want more!” Jieun screamed. Her legs were wrapped around Al’s waist as he and John thrust into her. Jieun’s body was covered in sweat and semen; her hair was plastered to her forehead. “I’m cumming!” She moaned, “Fucking cum in me, give me it all.” She cried out. A moment later, she felt her whole body be filled with their cum; Al’s flooded her womb while John’s filled her guts.

You couldn’t control yourself; you started crying again. “How could you!” You yell from the other side of the door, refusing to look at her any longer.

Y+They ignored you. You could hear their moans continue, Jieun pleading for more. You repeat yourself, kicking the door open in frustration. She was still between their bodies, their cock sliding in and out of her. “I needed them. I want to be with them,” She moans before kissing Al. You can’t take it anymore and leave the house. They continued after you left, not caring one bit. You drown yourself in alcohol, knowing you were right; the woman you knew was gone. Your lovely girlfriend turned into a slut at the first sign of attention. You feel like ending it all. At that moment, you see Han-na walking into the bar. You get up and walk toward her, “It’s all your fault!” You yell at her, throwing the glass in your hand to the wall and breaking it. “Jieun and I were perfectly happy until you started spewing your shit about a wild bedroom. Now she’s out fucking other guys just because it felt good. It’s your damn fault!” You grab Han-na, shaking her violently as you vent your anger. Between it all, you begin to cry. You thought you would be with Jieun forever. That you would marry and have a family, but it all slipped between your fingers because you didn’t say anything.

Han-na recognizes the sadness in your eyes and lets you release your anger before taking you outside to a nearby park, where you spill your guts to her. She looks at you with pity, realizing the lies she was told. She ended her friendship with Jieun that day. You moved out soon after refusing to see Jieun any longer as you tried to rebuild your life. Han-na kept tabs on Jieun, watching as the pure girl you knew became a depraved woman. She had begun going out in skimpy clothing and fucking any man she could pick up. Han-na felt disgusted by herself for leading to this situation, and she tried to help you however she could. You couldn’t recover from the loss, though. It ate at you every day.

[artificial-transmutations]

Wrong bag, bro

Music blared from my headphones while I was running on the treadmill when I first saw the guy. It was obviously his first time in the gym, and after having gotten a short introduction, he looked around uncomfortably before approaching the weights. I sighed and stopped the treadmill. It was a good gym, at least judging from the equipment and the cost. The staff, however, was... improvable. It was clear that the new guy had no idea how to start and he would probably hurt himself like that.

"Sup? You're new here?" I said as I approached. He almost jumped when he heard my voice. I took a good look at him when he turned around. He wasn't very fit, at least compared to me. I mean, I'm no bodybuilder, too, but I do go to the gym a few times a week and try to stay in shape. The other guy was visibly unfit, with a small belly and no definition at all, but hey, we all have to start somewhere.

"Uhm. Yes. Actually, I wanted to lose a bit of weight. I'm Jonas. Do you work here?"

I chuckled. "Na, man. I'm Travis, and I just work *out* here. Why are you trying to get fit?"

Jonas seemed to be a bit embarrassed when he answered. "I... hope that will make dating easier. It's hard to find a boyfriend like... this."

He gestured down his body.

"Hey, you should do this for yourself, not for someone else. But yeah, I get what you mean. Chicks dig muscles, too."

The last part was probably unnecessary and somewhat spoiling the message, but I couldn't help it. It was a reflex to make clear I was straight. Really stupid, I know, but hey, that's just the straight genes talking.

Thankfully, Jonas took the hint and didn't hit on me as I showed him the ropes. He was mightily insecure, but a nice dude. After a while, he called it a day and we went to the locker room together. Having started early, I felt it was time to head home, too.

I took out my gym bag from my locker, as did Jonas, and got my soap out.

"Are you not going to shower?" I asked as Jonas just changed to his street shoes.

"Oh, eh, no, I'll shower at home." he said, and I understood. That guy was so self-conscious it would probably be hell for him to shower in a communal shower, so I just shrugged and said:

"Alright. See you around."

After the shower, I went to my gym bag to change into my street clothes but when I opened it, the contents seemed unfamiliar. Of course. Jonas had the same black gym bag as I did and must have grabbed the wrong one. That could happen. I just hoped I'd meet him again so we could swap back the bags. For now, it wasn't that much of a problem. I didn't have any valuables in there, and it seemed that Jonas had brought a towel as well, so I could just use his to dry myself.

What had been in there, however, were my street clothes. I mean, it wasn't a big deal, I could just wear my gym clothes until I got home, but somehow, I got curious and rummaged through the contents of the bag. There was something that immediately jumped into view and that was...

A pair of pink boxer briefs.

I mean seriously? How much gayer could it get?

I was just about to stuff it back into the back, when I hesitated. My gym compression shorts were soaked with sweat, and apparently, the boxer briefs seemed to be clean, I rationalized, but somehow, I *wanted* to put them on, for some weird reason. Well. I shrugged and just acted on the impulse, I mean, it was just a pair of underwear, right?

As it turned out, poor Jonas must have been not that well-endowed. The pair of boxer briefs was awfully tight and hugged my ass and my junk so firmly it was almost a second skin. I looked in the mirror and was a little surprised. My cock wasn't exactly small, but the underwear still didn't leave much to imagination either. But they were clean, and the fabric was quite pleasant to the touch, so I decided I would wear them until I got home.

Man, Jonas was probably in for a surprise when he discovered my XXL jockstrap from my bag. And unlike his - sorry - faggy underwear, I had worn that thing for a day now, so it wasn't exactly clean. I mean, there wasn't any reason for him to put it on, but what if he was curious? Or what if he was a little pervert who liked to experience the smell of a real man?

I shook my head. Where had that thought come from? I quickly got dressed in the rest of *my* clothes and drove home. However, during the drive I couldn't quite shake the thought of how Jonas might just be sniffing my jock, jerking his pathetic little cock furiously while doing so. Man, I really had no idea what was wrong with me today. When I arrived at home, my cock was hard and leaking pre into Jonas tight little pink underwear. Looks like I needed to blow off some steam.

I put on some lesbian porn and fished out my cock and balls from its tight confines. I have to admit that jerking off while wearing Jonas' briefs was oddly exciting.

At first, my eyes were glued to the two chicks on the screen, but as I got close to shooting my load, I leaned back and closed my eyes. Images of Jonas, wearing my much too large jockstrap came immediately and unbidden, but it was too late. With a groan, I came all over my toned and defined upper body.

I needed a moment to recover after that before I could start cleaning up. I stuffed my junk back into the pink underwear without really thinking about it, but realized it wasn't quite as tight as before. Perhaps the fabric was adjusting to my bigger mass. I was just about done with wiping the cum off my chest when my phone dinged with a message from an unknown number:

Unknown number:

"Hey there, it's Jonas, from the gym today. It seems like I grabbed the wrong bag when I left, and I want to return it to you. Can you give me your address?"

I thought about it for a moment while I saved his name to my phone. He probably found my number on the lost and found card, and I was just to agree, when I stopped. There was no rational reason not to swap back the bags as soon as possible and I had no plans for today. But...

Travis:

"Sorry, man, I can't today. How about tomorrow? We can meet at the gym."

I seriously had no idea why I lied, but not-so-little Travis twitched in the underwear as I wrote the message.

Jonas:

"Sounds good. Sorry I took your bag, I only noticed when I got home."

Travis:

"Don't worry, there's nothing important in there. Just my sweaty jockstrap, haha."

What was I doing? Why would I chat with a near stranger about my underwear? I was interrupted by the answer from Jonas.

Jonas:

"Yeah, I have found that thing already."

I hesitated. My cock was straining against pink fabric again, even though I just jerked off a few minutes ago. I really shouldn't be that excited, and I really shouldn't lead the poor gay guy on, but I couldn't help it. My fingers typed all on their own.

Travis:

"I see. And what did you do with it?"

It took a while before the next answer came in, and I feared that I had alienated the guy.

Jonas:

"Well, I'm wearing it right now."

Ha! I knew it! That guy was a pervert after all. I looked down at the tight pink boxer briefs struggling to contain my erection, while a small patch of precum had formed at the tip of the tent. Takes one to know one, right?

Travis:

"That old thing? I'm sure it smells sweaty as hell right now. Can you show me?"

Almost instantly, Jonas sent a picture of himself, wearing only the jock. It was way too big and baggy on him, and I could see his whole body in all of its unfit glory.

But somehow, it didn't look so bad. Absentmindedly, I squeezed my cock while looking at the picture. Then, with a mental "What the hell", I snapped a selfie for Jonas as well, of me wearing his pink boxer briefs. I didn't care to hide my boner, although it was less obvious than I thought. Might as well give him something to drool over, right?

After I had sent the picture, I looked at myself in the mirror some more. There was disappointingly little pump on my frame considering that I just came back from the gym. In fact, I looked even smaller than before I went to the gym. That couldn't be true, right?

But the bathroom scale confirmed. This was crazy! You didn't just lose five kilograms of body mass just like that. Especially, since my body mass was mostly muscles!

I took another look at the mirror, but it was true: my arms, my legs, even my chest. Everything looked less defined than before. And my chest was pretty smooth, too. I usually shave it, but since I have a high testosterone level or something, there's always a stubble remaining. Not so today. As I felt my chest with my hand, there was only smooth skin. What the hell was going on?

I looked back at my phone, and Jonas had answered again.

Jonas:

"Looks good on you, you should wear it more often! ;)"

Did he really think so? My heartbeat quickened on the praise from Jonas, and I could feel my cock reacting again. It must have gotten soft over the whole panicking, but reading this single line from Jonas was enough for it to strain against the tight underwear again.

Except... It wasn't *that* tight anymore. Sure, it was still a pair of boxer briefs and was supposed to cling to the skin, and it did, but before, my muscular ass, pelvis and of course, my large cock had filled it to the breaking point. Not so anymore. In fact, it fit pretty snugly, and although my cock was hard as a rock, the bulge it produced was much smaller than before.

My phone dinged with another message.

Jonas:

"Are you still there, Tray? You're still in for the gym later?"

Later? I thought we had said tomorrow! And why did he call me Tray? I quickly composed an answer.

Travis:

"Do we have to? I thought we'd said tomorrow."

The answer came immediately.

Jonas:

"Stop whining, Tray! I know you wane be big like I, so you must work hart!"

I cringed from the amount of spelling mistakes, but before I could answer, Jonas sent another Pic.

Was that still the same guy as before?! Sure enough, he was wearing my jockstrap, and the face was similar, but boy was he *ripped*. His arms and legs looked like he basically lived in the gym, and his hairy chest was sitting heavily on his perfectly sculpted eight pack abs. He even had a tattoo!

I looked back to the mirror in distress. I was positively scrawny, and not just in comparison. *My* arms and legs looked like twigs from a tree that were about to break from a strong wind. And were Jonas had all that chest hair and stubble on his chin, I was totally hairless, except for my perfectly styled bleached blonde hair.

I started to hyperventilate and had to lean on the sink to not fall.

What the hell was happening here?!

The phone dinged again, and I picked it up.

Jonas:

"Excpext yu wantto let ur tongue work out insted Todays bitch canceled and I Ned so to worship my "

It was getting really difficult to read, but I got the gist of it. But that wasn't right, right? Jonas was gay, just as me, and... Hold on, I... No, Jonas. Jonas wasn't gay, he was bi. Of course, with that fuck stick inside his smelly jockstrap, he'd fuck everything that moves.

All by itself, my hand had entered my pink boxer briefs and was jerking like crazy. Luckily, there was enough room in the underwear, as it was a bit loose usually. Even with my delicate hands, I couldn't close my hand around my shaft, it was just too small for that. So, I jerked with two fingers until I could finally stop myself. My cock wasn't as important for the upcoming meeting as my beautiful ass and my eager tongue that would submissively lap up every drop of sweat from Jonas manly body, so he would reward me with that magnificent cock of his. But still, no need to spoil the fun.

Tray:

"I'm coming over right now, Sir!"

I hope you enjoyed this little switchup! A few additional images can be found at my tip jar :)

[vacationbimboschool]

Set for life

Rafe Cameron x gf!reader

Content below: smut, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, breeding kink.

+18 MDNI

You walked down the staircase of the Tannyhill estate, heading to Rafe’s office after he called you downstairs.

Since his father passed, Rafe had taken over the family business, pouring all his time and energy into keeping the legacy alive.

Most of his days were spent in his office, either meeting with clients or making deals, leaving little time for dates or quality time with you, So he asked you to move in—so even with his busy schedule, he could still see you every day.

Your heart raced as you opened the office door. It had only been a few weeks since you moved in, and you still felt a little nervous around him—but who wouldn’t?

As you stepped inside, Rafe lifted his head, his gaze slowly traveling up and down, taking in the sight before him. You wore a delicate white sundress, your hair falling loosely around your shoulders, with silver bracelets adorning your wrists, catching the light as you moved.

"Hey, baby," Rafe greeted you with a soft smile.

You returned his smile as you approached his desk. "Hey," you replied gently.

He stood from his chair and walked around the desk, closing the space between you.

"So... what's up?" you asked curiously, tilting your head as you looked up at him. The sunlight streaming through the window reflected in your eyes, making them glisten.

Rafe slid his arm around your waist, his grip firm yet comforting, before finally responding. "I just signed a contract for an incredible deal. Once everything is processed, we’ll be set for life."

Your smile widened, warmth spreading through your chest at the thought of how well he provided for you.

"Oh my God, Rafe! Congratulations!" you said excitedly, your voice bubbling with enthusiasm.

"Mhm. I’ll be able to give you the life you’ve always dreamed of. I’ll take such good care of you," he murmured, his voice smooth as he reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with a gentle touch.

There was a brief pause before he continued, his tone shifting—firmer, more commanding. "There’s only one thing I’ll ask from you in return."

You studied his face carefully, trying to anticipate what he was about to say. "And what’s that, Rafe?"

His eyes flickered to your lips, his tongue running over his bottom lip before he finally spoke.

"I want you to have my baby."

Butterflies swarmed in your stomach, your heartbeat pounding so intensely you could feel it everywhere. Without knowing what to say, you let your actions speak for you as you gently cupped his face and pulled him into a deep, lingering kiss.

He let out a low moan as you wrapped your arms around his neck, the kiss growing more and more passionate, until you broke it, both of you breathless.

"I—I would love that," you finally managed to say, your words soft.

"Yeah?" he whispered, the corners of his lips turning up into a smile.

"Of course," you replied, nodding as you pressed another kiss to his lips.

Rafe placed his hand on the back of your neck, holding you close as he kissed you again, this time his tongue parting your lips, exploring your mouth as he savored the taste of you.

Your hands drifted down his body, fingers working nimbly to unbutton his shirt.

He let his own hands wander down to your ass, squeezing as he pushed his hips forward, letting you feel his growing erection.

You let out a soft whine, pressing your hips against his in return.

Rafe pulled away, a smirk spreading across his face. "You really are a needy little thing, aren't you?" he teased, his voice low and smooth.

You bit your lip and nodded.

"Well, I know something else that needs attention." He took your hand and led you to the leather sofa, where he sat and motioned for you to straddle his lap.

Once you were seated, his hand moved between your legs, rubbing you over the thin fabric of your dress. "How long have you been like this, sweetheart?" he purred.

"S-since you called me down here," you replied breathlessly.

"Is that so?" He raised an eyebrow. "Did it turn you on that much? Not knowing what I was going to ask of you?"

"Yes."

"I bet if I touched you now, you'd be dripping."

You could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter as his fingers worked their magic, sending sparks through your entire body.

He continued teasing you, rubbing his fingers along your slit, never quite applying enough pressure to give you the friction you so desperately needed.

"Ra-a-afe..." you groaned, your voice strained.

"Yes, love?"

"Please."

"What was that?" He smirked, moving his hand away.

"Please, fuck me."

Rafe leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "Not yet, sweetheart. But first, let's get you out of these clothes, hmm?"

With his free hand, he pulled your dress up, exposing your soaked panties.

"Fuck," he breathed, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric, tracing along your wet folds.

You moaned, arching your back, pressing against his fingers as they finally moved up to your swollen clit.

"You're so fucking beautiful," Rafe murmured, his gaze traveling over your half-naked body. "And you're mine."

"Yes, Rafe," you panted, "All yours."

"That's right." He began rubbing your clit, his eyes darkening with lust as he watched your reaction.

"Rafe, please," you whined, grinding your hips against his fingers.

"Please, what, baby?"

"Need you."

"Need me to do what?" he teased, slowing his movements.

"Need you to fuck me."

Rafe didn't need to hear another word as he quickly unzipped his pants, freeing his throbbing cock.

He grabbed your hips and guided you onto him, both of you gasping as he filled you.

You slowly rocked your hips back and forth, adjusting to his size, before starting to bounce up and down, his cock hitting all the right places inside you.

"That's it, ride me," Rafe growled, his hands gripping your ass, helping you keep your rhythm.

"Ahh, fuck," you moaned, throwing your head back, losing yourself in the pleasure.

You could feel the heat building inside you, the tension mounting as you neared the edge.

Rafe reached between your bodies and started stroking your clit, sending you over the edge.

You cried out his name as the waves of your orgasm crashed over you, your walls pulsing around his cock.

Rafe grunted, thrusting his hips up, his body stiffening as he spilled himself inside you, filling you with his hot, sticky seed.

"Fucking hell, I love you," Rafe muttered, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you tight against his chest.

"I love you, too," you murmured, burying your face in the crook of his neck, feeling utterly content and fulfilled.

A few moments later, you shifted, and the sensation of his cum leaking out of you brought a wicked grin to your lips.

"We should get cleaned up," you whispered.

"Mmm. We should." Rafe smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

[lemoncrushh]

Show Me Your Texts, or It's Over

Summary: Harry finds out you've been in contact with your ex and gives you an ultimatum.

Warnings: angst, maybe a little gaslighting

Word Count: 1889

A/N: From my 2016 collection. This was based on a prompt selected by a reader. Very angsty. You won't like Harry in this, and maybe not y/n either. I almost didn't repost it, but please don't take it too seriously.

You hurried outside to your car, the summer heat threatening to burn you through your black shirt. You felt the vibration of your phone in your hand, alerting you of yet another text from Harry. He'd been texting you all morning and throughout your lunch break. It had started off as a harmless conversation of missing each other when he'd reminded you what time his flight arrived. You'd been apart for over a week, resolving to short late night phone chatter until one of you fell asleep, or the occasional text that left you cold and flat. Needless to say, you were dying to see him.

As the morning progressed, however, so did the texts. His flight was delayed due to weather. He wasn't sure if he'd make it in time to go home and change, so he'd asked to meet you at the dinner party. You argued back and forth, insisting that you were fine with being a bit late if it meant you could go together.

You knew without a doubt that this text that had just arrived was him telling you otherwise, but you were already running late and needed to get back to work. You'd been excited for and anticipating his return, but now you were just frustrated and perturbed.

Tossing your purse and your phone in the passenger seat, you drove back to work. It wasn't until you were settled back in your desk, running your hands through your hair with a sigh, that you decided to examine his newest text. You were surprised, however, when you noticed the name. It wasn't from Harry. It was from your ex-boyfriend, John.

Biting your lip, you swiped the screen to read the text.

Working hard, or hardly working?

You chuckled, texting him back quickly.

Neither. Just got back from lunch.

Damn, I was hoping to persuade you to meet me for a bite.

You grinned at your screen. John had texted you out of the blue two weeks ago. At first you were apprehensive about talking to him again. He'd been the one to break off the relationship, claiming he wasn't ready to commit. You'd taken that to mean he wanted to be free to screw around, so you'd given him the boot. Although you held your head up high, you'd been hurt, your self-esteem lacking. That is, until you'd met Harry. Harry had been the solace that you'd needed, lifting you up repeatedly by his words as well as his actions.

When John came clean with you in his texts, apologizing and admitting that you deserved much more than he had given, you'd decided to bury the hatchet. There was no point in being bitter about it, and you forgave him, not so much for his sake, but for yours.

One thing you hadn't done, though, was tell Harry about it. It wasn't really that you were trying to hide it from him, but you didn't want it to become a big deal. Harry knew how John had treated you. You'd told him repeatedly, and a couple of times had cried in his arms over it. So telling him this same ex that had made you cry was now texting you like an old friend...probably wouldn't be a good idea.

Sorry, you texted John back. Raincheck?

Better yet, how about you meet me for drinks later?

You gritted your teeth, not sure how to answer. Asking for a raincheck on lunch was one thing. Lunch you could do. Probably. But drinks after work? Besides, you needed to run straight home after work to get ready for this dinner party with Harry.

As though he knew you were thinking of him, Harry's name popped up with a new text.

Flight's been delayed longer. I should be home about 7.

Just as you were about to reply, another text alert from John popped up.

How does Margo's sound?

You swallowed hard, trying to decide who to answer first. Quickly, you typed out a message for John.

Sorry, I can't tonight. Harry's coming home.

As soon as you hit send, your eyes about popped out of your head. You'd sent it to the wrong person! Shit!

You saw the three little dots pop up, indicating Harry was typing.

What??

Calming yourself down, you decided to play it cool. It was an accident. He had no idea who the message was for.

Haha sorry baby. I was talking to a friend. Didn't mean to send that to you. I'll see you at 7.

Ok

Making sure you had John's text open then, you politely declined, sending him the text you'd originally intended to.

Oh ok then, John sent back. Maybe some other time. Have fun!

"[Y/N]!" you heard Harry call from the front of the house.

"You're home!" you squealed from the bedroom.

You'd hoped to meet him at the door, greeting him with lavish kisses, but right then you were in an awkward position on the bed, trying to buckle your high-heeled strappy sandal.

"Hi, beautiful," he said in a low tone.

You looked up to see him standing in the doorway. Temporarily dismissing your buckle, you stood to meet him halfway, wrapping your arms around him.

"Mmm, I've missed you," you murmured against his chest.

"I missed you, too," he echoed, "and you look gorgeous."

"What, this old thing?" you playfully scoffed, stepping back to allow him to view your ensemble completely.

A sexy grin spread across his face while he set his suitcase against the wall.

"I'll hurry and get ready. Wish I had time for a shower."

"Go ahead," you insisted. "I don't mind waiting."

"No, love, we're already late. I'll just change."

You sat back down on your bed, grabbing your phone while Harry undressed. You'd gotten a couple of texts from John earlier. When you'd told him you were getting ready for a dinner party, he'd asked you to send a picture. You thought it was a little odd at first, but so far he hadn't said anything that made you feel uneasy. You'd sort of slipped into this comfortable friend zone unexpectedly. So a few minutes before Harry had arrived, you'd sent John a selfie in your dress. He had yet to reply.

Tossing your phone on the bed, you stood and walked to the vanity to put your earrings on. As you were adjusting the second one, Harry passed by the bed.

"Who's John?" he inquired, shoving his arms into a clean shirt.

"What?" you turned to look at him. You noticed then he was inspecting your phone.

"You just got a text from a John," he added.

Oh no.

"'Wow, you look amazing!'" Harry quoted, reading the text that John had apparently sent. "'Sexy as hell!'"

Your entire body trembled as he lifted his head to glare at you.

"Who the fuck is John?" he repeated, his voice rising.

"Um..." you sucked in your lips, wringing your hands.

"Not your bloody ex boyfriend!" Harry nearly shouted, his eyes narrowed.

"Baby-" you started, but Harry interrupted you.

"You're talking to him again? After what he did to you?"

"Harry," you swallowed, stepping towards him. "Let me explain."

His face showed no sign of willingness to listen to any explanation though he remained rooted in his spot.

"He's been texting me a little," you admitted.

"A little?" Harry raised a brow. "For how long?"

"A couple weeks."

"A couple weeks?! Were you gonna tell me?"

You looked down at your hands, wishing you had something in them to hold.

"I thought you'd be mad," you said meekly.

"Well you were right about that!" Harry turned away from you, running a hand through his hair. "Fuck!"

"Harry, I'm sorry," you muttered sincerely. "But I swear, it's harmless."

He swung around, his eyes shooting daggers at you. "Harmless, huh?"

"Yes. He wanted to apologize for everything. I told him I appreciated and accepted his apology, and we just got to talking about what we've been up to, you know, like catching up. I told him about you and-"

"You've told him about me," Harry interrupted.

"Yes! He knows all about you. He knows you were coming home today and we were going to a party."

"Is that..." he paused, "is that who you were texting earlier today? When you sent me the wrong text?"

The look on his face told you he did not find it funny in the least, regardless of your trying to play it off like you had. You opened your mouth to retort, but decided it wasn't worth it.

"Yes," you sighed.

"Shit," Harry dropped his shoulders. He blinked slowly before reaching for your phone.

"Let me see the texts," he demanded.

"What?" you asked incredulously.

"The texts from him. Your conversations."

Anger building in your chest, you grabbed your phone out of his hand.

"No!" you glared at him. "That's ludicrous!"

"Why? Because you have something to hide?"

"No, I-"

"Then show them to me, [Y/N]."

You stood silent for a moment before shaking your head slowly.

"Show me your texts, or it's over," said Harry.

"You can't be serious," you contended, your voice just a whisper.

"Dead serious."

"You..." you began, but quickly surrendered, handing him the phone. "Fine."

You sunk down onto the bed while Harry scrolled through your text messages from John. You knew there was nothing wrong with them. It was the principal. Harry didn't trust you, and that angered and disappointed you.

You focused on Harry's belt buckle while he stood before you. You felt like a child. You didn't appreciate it. You loved Harry and you would never to anything to sabotage your relationship. A tear dropped in your lap, wetting your dress before you even realized you'd been crying. Sniffling, you stood up again to reach for a tissue on the vanity.

"[Y/N]," you finally heard Harry mutter. He cleared his throat. "Baby, I'm sorry."

You turned and looked at him, your eyebrows raised. He lowered the phone, dropping it on the bed. Then he stepped closer to you, reaching for your hands.

"I'm so sorry," he declared again. You noticed a glint of a tear in his right eye.

"I was telling the truth," you said.

"I know," Harry bit his lip, the side of his mouth turning up. "You mentioned me a lot."

"I did," you nodded.

"And you said you're madly in love with me."

"I did."

"And that you're happy. For the first time in your life."

You blinked. "Yes, I did."

"God," Harry ran a hand through his hair again. "I was a jealous prat."

You giggled softly before placing your hands on his chest. "What on earth do you have to be jealous about?"

Harry grinned. "I mean...I still kinda think he's trying something. But I like how you sidestep him every time."

"Because I don't want him, Harry," you conveyed. "I want you. Only you."

You gazed into his eyes until he slipped his hands under your ears and lowered his mouth to capture yours.

"I really missed you," he murmured. "Maybe too much. It's made me do something I never thought I'd do."

"I'm yours, baby," you promised. "You don't have to worry about a thing."

You slid your hands down his torso.

"Except maybe about being late for dinner."

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

Screenward Bound

Pairing: Twilight x Reader

Warning(s): Eventual smut and mild yandere behavior

Notes: Written for my 200 Follower Event!

Main Masterlist | Fic Masterlist | Next Chapter

You weren't quite sure what compelled you to visit the garage sale on the corner of 4th and Shirestone.

The lot was small and the yellow house inhabiting it was large, leaving very little space for the several tables of stuff in the miniscule front yard, meaning they spilled out onto the bordering sidewalk like an invasion of dusty books and even dustier boxes, which was probably what drew you to the sale in the first place.

"Do you have any Uncle Kracker?" You half-heartedly asked the old lady running the operation, idly thumbing through the CDs.

"Uncle who?" She raised a brow.

"Nevermind," you sighed, giving her a short once over before returning to your unenthusiastic perusal. You lived a few blocks away, tucked in the corner of a nearby cul-de-sac, but living alone was boring and your wallet had been crying to be drained after recovering from your car being in the shop for a few weeks. Besides, it wasn't like you couldn't drop a few dollars to pick up a half-decent CD for the radio, especially since people had a habit of dumping their unwanted shit on the side of the road.

With a huff, you flicked through the last row of CDs, all artists that you were either too old or too young to like. Sure, the Pat Benatar one was calling your name, but you already had a few of her songs on other CDs.

Just as you were about to go home and watch a couple hundred reruns of Family Feud while eating enough ice cream to make your doctor cringe, your eye caught another table, this one filled with an assortment of video games. You weren't the biggest gamer, but you had enough of a collection to put any normal ten-year-old to shame.

"You've got games?" You asked, moving past the one-armed mannequin to assess the selection.

"Do I ever," the old woman shook her head, sending a few snow-swept whisps of hair flying from the confines of her satin headband. "They belonged to my son, but the little rat couldn't keep it that way when he moved out."

You managed a sympathetic chuckle, pulling your coat a bit tighter around yourself. There was a chill in the air, despite it being sunny outside. Your fingers felt a bit numb as you flicked through the cases. Final Fantasy, Digimon, Mario Kart...

You paused as your gaze passed over a very familiar title.

"Woah, Twilight Princess?" You lifted the case, marveling at the find. It was a bit dusty, and the cover art looked like it had seen better, less faded days, but it was nonetheless a great discovery. You had always wanted to play it until school got in the way, but now...

"Oh, yeah," the old woman leaned in a bit too close for comfort, tapping a knobby finger on the plastic. You could smell her flowery perfume and the lingering scent of coffee grounds as she spoke. "This was one of my son's favorites... too bad he could never get it to cooperate."

"How so?" You asked, taking a step to the right to create a bit of distance.

She shrugged. "It worked great at first, but the controls were always a bit glitchy for his tastes. He said it was like something else was trying to take control," her tone turned conspiratorial, faded blue eyes glinting in the sunlight. "but I think he was just making excuses to get a new controller for Christmas."

This time, you laughed loudly. "Yeah, they'll do that," you glanced at the game and back at her. "How much? I've got a ten in my wallet, but I can get more if needed."

The old woman waved a hand, dismissing your words with a smile. "That won't be necessary, I should be paying you for taking this junk off my hands. Take it for free."

You opened your mouth to protest, but she sent you a stern glare and you didn't have the courage to square up with someone who didn't have any personal space awareness and looked like she could break your back over her knee. 'Thank you," you ducked your head respectfully, slipping the game into your bag and beginning the trek home. The sun was beginning to set, and you didn't want to get caught in the dark. You waved, calling over your shoulder: "Have a nice day. Stay warm!"

The woman waved back. "You too, dear! Don't let the bedbugs bite!"

You chuckled, boots crunching on the pavement as you set an easy pace, one hand slipping into your bag to feel over the faded plastic surface of your new game.

If there was any truth to the old lady's words about the game being glitchy, it didn't show.

After booting your ancient Wii-U up, you plugged the game in without hesitation, grinning when it started up with nary a twitch. The title screen looked exactly as it should have, a very familiar song emanating from your dusty speakers. It was perfect, and you almost felt bad taking it for free.

Until you tried to select 'new game' and the screen stalled, fizzling back to the menu as if you hadn't done anything at all. "What the hell?" you muttered, attempting the action once more, only to be booted back to the title screen for the second time. "Oh my god, are you serious?"

You weren't really mad, because your expectations hadn't been that high, but you hadn't expected problems before you even began playing. The 'start' button glimmered promisingly, and you reluctantly selected it.

The screen flashed, and the game started. You gaped, nearly dropping the controller in surprise. "Oh, hell yeah," you grinned, mood lifting slightly at the progress. You had already seen several gameplays, so starting later didn't bother you as much as it should have. "Now we're talking."

Link was distinctly aware of the moment his world inexplicably shifted, falling into the soft hands of another. It was as if they were meant to hold his life in their palms, smooth fingertips caressing the edges of his pixelated consciousness, shrouded by colors and numbers and a thin sheen of fantastical insanity.

There was a voice, lighter than the one of his previous guide: the gamer without sense. Link was forgiving, it was practically in his nature, but he could only take so many instances of the kind of crass, harsh language that man had employed, especially when he addressed the dreaded "chat"--whatever evil that was.

"Let's get classic," the voice spoke, tone heavy with excitement, and the world reformed before his very eyes, swirling with the familiar colors and textures that he remembered, though they seemed... brighter, somehow. It was a new start, Link realized. A new play at the game. A new life to destroy. To shape.

Ordon Spring was exactly as he remembered; a clear, rippling pool, fed by the gentle waterfall in the back of the spring, flanked by thick, verdant brush and preceded by a wonderful, sandy bank. Home, he thought.

"I hope the old lady wasn't right," said the voice, sounding a bit mournful as it caressed the tip of his pointed ear. "I'd hate to have to get rid of you... I've been looking for you for ages."

Link felt his body stiffen, the belts crisscrossing his chest feeling more suffocating that normal. You must have heard about his 'resistance' towards the previous owner, who quite deserved it after attempting to make him toss the village dogs off of various high places and herd the children into frankly dangerous areas. Hylia, he hoped you weren't like that. He didn't think he could handle that again.

"Alright, let's go save a princess," your cheer hung heavy in his mind, and Link allowed himself a small, pixelated smile.

He could work with this.

Dear lord I'm so glad this is finally out! It fought me tooth and nail, but I hope it's still up to standard <33

[csprint]

Can you write a reaction for when x reader is horny either ateez or the boyz, it doesn’t matter

Hongjoong:

His patience would be very thin with you. He’s having an off day and demands his space. The problem with giving Hongjoong his space when he’s mad, it turned you on. Not just him still managing to look cute when he’d get angry. It was his tone. Very stern, very cold.

You would prance around him when you knew that you shouldn’t and beg him to touch you and love you.

“Y/N,” he’ll warn with glaring eyes.

He’ll never give you the satisfaction, but you keep trying in hopes that one day Hongjoong would wreak havoc on your body.

Seonghwa:

When I tell you Seonghwa would be a slut for you? FUCKING BELIEVE ME. He will do anything you ask him to do to you. Loves when you’re lounging around in literally no other clothing but one of his tanks, braless. He’s obsessed with your tits. You don’t really have to do much to get his attention but occasionally stretching so that your shirt rides up a bit, just barely covering your cunt between your thighs, he’s putty in your hands.

“Allow me to please you, baby.”

Yunho:

At first he’d pay no mind to you the second you start rubbing against him in a way you thought was subtle, while cuddling. His chin resting on your shoulder, the warmth of his breath is on your neck. You can feel all of him. Bulge pressed between your ass cheeks. And every breath he takes, it presses more into you, caged within his arms. He’ll hug you tighter if your movements persist, just lays there and allows you to grind harder like a bitch in heat.

“Yuyu, please. Why aren’t you doing anything?” You’d whine.

“Just wanted to see if you’d beg me.” He’d murmur and smirk against your ear.

Yeosang:

He’s shocked! This is shocking news!

Something as simple as watching him practice his dances makes your mind run wild and the sweat droplets that slid down his chest did nothing to calm your feral thoughts. Those body rolls? He doesn’t realize the damage he’s causing to you and your poor panties that are probably soaked in arousal. Your legs squeezing together around nothing.

He moves a little slow at taking hints that you’re horny so you have to suck it up and shamelessly tell him.

San:

Not much to be written here. You don’t have to tell him anything. Why? Because he’s always horny, too. 7 days in a week and y’all are fucking for 10. He’ll even pick his favorite Juno positions.

“Have we ever tried this one?”

Mingi:

Mingi always has his hand on your thigh, stroking his fingers against your skin and grabbing your flesh. It’s just something he does for comfort and to know that you’re still there. But you wanted nothing more than to take his hand and shove it in between your thighs where you yearned for him the most.

This leads him to ask you what’s wrong when he notices you just staring where his hand rests. When you tell him, he would reply with the sweetest/most lewd thing you’ve ever heard.

Wooyoung:

He finds it hot and teases you about being horny because he knows how needy you can get. And like I’ve said before, he’ll take his time. Takes his time to give in and give you what you want. Woo also loves to do shit to get you worked up even more.

Taunts you until you’re in a pitiful state. He’d take your hand and place it on his crotch, moving it in circular motion.

“I bet you can’t fit all of me in your mouth. How bad do you wanna find out?”

Jongho:

Jongho’s more surprised than anything. He wanted to kiss you out of the blue because he felt like it, but he didn’t expect you to prolong it the way that you did. Deepening the kiss, opting to straddle him, or the unsteady grinding of your hips. He finds you very cute and amusing.

“What’s gotten into you?” He’ll chuckle, encircling his arms around your waist.

“Just want you.” You’d whimper as his hands slide down from your waist to firmly gripping your butt.

[satorusugurugurl]

different anon here but I absolutely loved the voice kink post, could I maybe ask for a little of spin off of that, and if you feel comfortable could I ask Gojo, Geto and Nanami separately with a reader who is into degradation? Especially the one mixed with praise like how much of a good cocksleeve they are for the boys?

Voice Kink?! (Part Two)

Characters: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, FAB!Reader

Word Count: 4,550

Warnings: degradation, cursing, dirty talk, p in v, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, oral sex (M +F Receiving), spicy smut!

A/N: all three parts are a continuation of Part One! Please enjoy! I hope I did okay with the degradation! 😅

Part One

Gojo Satoru:

It had been about two weeks since your boyfriend found you listening to your smutty audiobook. That night, you had rough and passionate sex until either of you could function like normal human beings. Seeing how squirmy and turned on you got just by the sound of his voice gave Satoru a sure confidence boost! You didn't need smutty ASMR clips or audiobooks. All you needed was him.

At least, that's what he'd assumed.

So imagine his surprise when the two of you were at the gym. He was doing the leg press while you worked on the stationary bike. He glanced over at you; he held up two fingers, letting you know he had two sets left to do. But when he looked at your face, it wasn't the face of someone working out hard. No Gojo knew that face better than anyone else.

The way you bit down on your bottom lip with narrowed eyes, how you were in the process of doing your own leg presses, squeezing your thighs together, rubbing them gently, trying to be subtle, but failing miserably. You were horny, and from the earbuds in your ears, Gojo knew you were once again listening to your smutty stories.

That knowledge alone had him disregarding his final two sets, rushing to wipe down the equipment before he towered over you. Gojo smirked coldly the second you turned to acknowledge him. His eyes were dark; his jaw was clenched tight as a vein in his forehead poked out.

“Come on, sweetheart, I think we’ll finish my workout at home.”

He didn't emphasize that his workout would be you. The second you stepped into the apartment, Satoru was on you. His hands tugged your sweaty gym clothes off, yanking the seat belt off your waist. You giggled, not realizing he was upset, until he pushed you toward the living room, bending you over the coffee table.

“Satoru—?” you hesitantly ask, “Uhm, baby?”

His foot kicks your knees apart before his hands tug your tight gym pants down past your thighs, pooling them around your knees. “Yes, slut?” Your pussy throbbed as you turned to look over your shoulder at him.

“W-Well, that wasn't very nice!”

“Oooh and you think rubbing those cute little thighs together at the gym was nice? Stimulating my pussy out in public here, anyone could see? Like a dirty fucking slut?”

Satoru isn't blind; he sees how you rock your hips. “I-I wasn't—” Smack! “Ah!” you cry out, rocking your hips forward as Satoru spanks you again.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, don't lie to me, sweetheart~ you've been such a bad girl, haven't you? Listening to those nasty books in public~ getting all wet because someone is whispering dirty things in that ear?” Satoru smacks your ass again. “What a nasty fucking slut.”

Your panting, pressing your ass back against him, desperate for him to touch you. “Y-Yes, I was listening to my book~ wh-while watching you work out!” The hand on your ass trails down, plunging two fingers inside of your tight heat. “N-nngh!!” you cry out, gripping the edge of the coffee table for support.

“Imaging me fucking you~? Whispering those dirty, smutty things in your ear?” You can't speak as he rubs your g-spot, wet, squelching sounds flooding the room. “Ah~ does it feel so good my little slut can't answer?” Satoru’s tongue runs up the nape of your neck before leaning in next to your ear. “Don’t worry~ you don't have to answer because this needy little cunt is doing all the talking for you.”

The wet squelches got louder as Satoru finger fucks you faster. You're crying out, digging your manicured nails into the wood grain. Seeing you in such a messy and desperate has Satoru yanking his fingers out of your pussy before tugging his sweats down. His fat throbbing cock rubbing over your ass.

“Mhmm, you like this~ you like it when I call you out for being such a dirty whore~ god, what am I going to do with you, huh?” Pre-cum is smeared all over your ass before Satoru grabs it by the base, prodding the leaking tip against your entrance. “Maybe I should fuck you like the whore you are.”

“Fuckin do it!”

You cried out, rocking back, trying to get him inside of you. Your boyfriend smirked, eyebrows raising at you futilely. He cooed, squeezing your ass, watching you blindly, trying to get him to fuck you. You were so desperate and horny; you always got worked up when he talked nasty to you.

“Oh, come on slut~ use me like a dildo~ come on, you can do it.”

“Torruu~ Toru, please!”

“Nu-uh—put your back into it, fuck yourself.”

Sighing in defeat, you reached between your legs, easing his cock inside of you with a whine. You pushed yourself back further, slowly fucking yourself back and forth on him. Satoru smugly smirked as you rocked yourself; His hands groped at your ass, massaging it, “What a good girl~ fucking herself on my cock like the slut she is~! Does that feel good~?” his words had you whining, nodding your head as you began to rock back harder against him.“Mmmh fuck pretty girl~ your ass is rippling with each thrust~ good girl~!” Satoru grits his teeth as you clench down around him, milking him. “N-Nnngh!” Those warm large hands that had been eagerly massaging the fat of your ass move to grip your hips instead.

“S-Satoru—please! Please!”

“Please, what?” Your boyfriend's voice is husky as he groans, pressing himself all the way into you, his cock hitting your cervix.

“Please fuck me!”

“Since my slutty girlfriend begged so prettily, I guess I can give her what she wants.”

Without another word, Satoru’s cock slides out the tip threatening to pop out of your tight heat before slamming back in with a force that rocks the table. Your eyes widen, mouth agape in a silent scream as he hits your g-spot and cervix with a single thrust. He pulls back out again before slamming into you harder. Satoru’s fingers grip your hips so hard it stings, but it's a pain you welcome.

“Look at you~ getting yourself fucked stupid.” You clamp down harder while pathetically whimpering against the table. “But you do it so well~! Taking my cock so fucking good! Like you were made for it slut.” You whine louder with a string of ‘yes’ leaving your lips that has his cock twitching and hardening inside of your wet walls. “Such a good little slut~ I should thank you for being such a dirty whore in public fuuuck shouldn't I?”

“T-Toru!”

“Well, thank you~ sweetheart, for being such a good little slut and getting off in public!” One of his hands leaves your hip, grabbing your head and pressing it against the table. “Haaah! Hah fuck~! Fuuuuck d-don’t I deserve a thank you~? Hmm? For fucking you like you wanted?”

His hips are moving like a jackhammer, plowing you hard, hitting all of the right spots while moving the coffee table against the floor with each thrust. You cry out with tears as you drool against the table's surface. He’s losing control, his dicks expanding, fingers twitching as he whines. God, this was so good. Your twitch convulsed around him, screaming out loud.

“T-Thank you! Thank you, Toru!! I-Im c-cu—”

“That's right, cum for me slut,” he groans through clenched teeth, “cum all over my cock!” As Satoru feels you clamping around him, he growls, dropping his head against your shoulder as you squirt hard, soaking the floor. Your boyfriend whines, lips brushing against your skin. “G-Good girl~! Fuck~! Good fuckin’ girl~! Milk my cock! That’s it!” His hips are erratic as he lets out a loud whine before cumming deep inside of you. Spurts of hot cum make your cry softly as Gojo fills you to the absolute brim, his hips weakly rocking into you, pushing his cum further inside until he stops, sighing heavily.

You lay there against the table as Satoru groans above you. His glossy lips gently move over your sweat-sheen skin. His hands gently massage your waist as he trails kisses up your back. You hum contentedly as you turn your head, kissing him softly. His lips move lazily against yours before he sighs.

“Now that was a cool down.” He kisses you again, pulling out of you gently before lifting you. “Let's get showered and crawl in bed.” there wasn't a single complaint from you as Satoru carried you to the bathroom.

Geto Suguru:

The glass is so cold against your breasts as Suguru rocks his hips against you. Since you left the work function, he'd been eagerly rushing to get you home. And now that he had you in the comfort of your home, he wouldn’t hold back.

“A-Ah Suguru!” you cry out as his large hand tangles in your hair, pulling your face away from the window and overlooking the street before you. “D-Do we have to do it right here?”

His intoxicating earthy musk flooded your senses as he purred into your ear, lips brushing against your earlobe. “What was that? Is my little slut shy now?” the degrading words had your eyes rolling back. His hands pushed your skirt up, pooling it around your hips. “You were so needy at the party, and now that we're in the comfort of our home, you're suddenly shy?” Your husband took your earlobe between his teeth and nibbled on it. “Or did squirting on my fingers satisfy you enough?”

“N-No, that’s fuck—that’s not it.”

“Oooh? Then what is it?”

“T-The neighbors might see.”

Dark strands of hair fall over your shoulder as your husband laughs. For a second, the finest of seconds, you believe he might let you go and drag you to the bedroom. But instead, his hands leave your hips, trailing up to your breasts where he yanks your bra down, exposing your tits. Your gas before he shoves you against the window, breast squeezing against the cool surface.

“But you weren't so shy at the party. So why is it my cocksleeve is so shy now?”

Your loving husband never called you such derogatory things before. For him to call you such nasty words, well, unfortunately, it had a fire burning between your legs. You liked the side of him, hearing him call you his cocksleeve, knowing that he saw you as his, and his alone had your chest heavy with arousal. It was so hot you rubbed your thighs together, a movement that did not go unnoticed by your husband.

“My oh my, what a night this has turned out to be,” he growled in your ear, his hands slowly trailing back down your curves, his fingers hooking under the waistband of your underwear. “First, I learned that you get off to the sound of my voice, and now I can see you getting off to me degrading you?”

“C-Cant help it, Sugu—” your husband watched you rock back, “you're so hot, I get wet over everything you do.”

“Oh?” RIIIIP!! You gasped, feeling your laced underwear fall to the floor underneath you. “Looks like my slutty wife finally learned how to tell the truth.”

The next thing you manage to hear over your heavy breathing is the sound of Suguru’s belt being unbuckled and his zipper being pulled down. Your breath fogs up the window as Suguru’s thick fat cock prods at your tight entrance teasing your needy hole. God, you wanted him so bad; if he didn't get inside of you, STAT, you might lose your mind.

“M-Mmmhm fuck~ Suguru~”

“Shhh~ I know what my little fucktoy needs.” he spits into the palm of his hand, coating his cock with saliva. “Does my little cum slut want my load? Hmm? Is that it bitch?” He presses his cock against your e trance, the tips slowly pushing past the tight ring of muscles.

“P-Please, I want it, I need it, Sugu.” the feeling of the tip of his cock pushing inside of you has you slamming your hands against the window. “Oooh fuck!”

Suguru trails hot open, mouthed kisses down your neck with a grunt. “You need it~? You want to be my fuck toy; are you going to be a good girl and allow me to fill you with my cum? Fuck it into you so deep it seeps out of you all night? Is that what you want?” He slides in only an inch. “Use your big girl words and tell me.” Even without an answer, Suguru pushes in further, growling against your sensitive, heated skin.

“P-please want it! I wanna be filled.”

“Ooh, what a good little slut telling me what she fucking wants.” Suguru slammed into you all at once, filling you to the brim. Your eyes went wide, and a wheezed whine escaping Suguru roughly began fucking into you from behind. “Such a desperate cum hungry whore~ getting off to the sound of my voice~ talking to her like a common whore.”

Your husband likes seeing you so flushed and turned on. How you slid your hands down the window, your moans fogging up the window panel as he sucked in a breath through his teeth. Hearing the gasps and moans had him fuckinf into you earnestly, his eyes narrowing as he reached around toying with your clit, as the other wrapped around your waist, pulling you tight against his chest, allowing his throbbing cock to push further inside of you.

“Look at you are taking this dick like a good slut, taking it so deep~ I wonder if you could see me bulge in your tummy~?” he rests his chin on your shoulder, trying to look. “Awe, you tightened around me. Like a good girl~ your pussy is so honest.”

“S-Suguru!” drool seeps out of the corner of your mouth, “Sugu~!”

His thrusts are deep, each drag of his velvety cock hitting your sweet spots, making you cry out louder as your eyes roll back into your head. You felt so good, and seeing you in such a state had your husband bucking his hips faster, pressing you harder against the glass, leaving your breasts on perfect display for any poor soul that decided to walk by, but that was the fun of it. Not only was Sugurh’s dirty talk getting you going, but the possibility of having someone see you like this made you all the wetter.

The feeling of your slick and his ore-cum coating his cock had Suguru nipping at your shoulders. “That's it~ take every inch of my cock~ god, you nasty little bitch, getting me all worked up at the party~ making me fuck you here against the window like some run-of-the-mill slut instead of my loving wife.” he chuckled against your skin. “But you like this, don't you? Like the possibility of getting caught? Having our neighbors who view you as a sweet loving wife see what a hungry cock slut you are for your husband.”

“Y-Yes! Yes, I want that.”

“Mhmm~ good girl~ good fucking girl so honest~!” his hips move fast, slamming you against the wall with each thrust, drawing cries of pleasure out of you. “That’s it~ that’s it~ fuuuuck your cunt is milking me~ nnngh! So good, baby~ so fucking good~!”

Why was he so hot?! He didn’t have to do much to get you all worked up. Suguru had that effect on you, and he knew it from the way your knees buckled as his fingers rubbed your clit in circles.

“ I-I’m gonna cum! Ooooh fuck I’m gonna cum so hard!”

“Yeah? Gonna squirt for me again, princess~?” You nod, arching back. “So good~ do it slut cum for me, cum all over our window~ just show our neighbors just how fucking slutty you are for your husband.”

Not needing to be told twice, you screamed, head thrown back, resting against Suguru’s shoulder as you squirted all over the window. The sight of your cum slowly dripping down its surface was enough to send your husband over the same orgasmic cliff. His his stuttered as he sunk his teeth into your skin, biting you as he fucked his thick cum inside of you, pushing it in as deep as he possibly could.

“Cummin~ oooh fuck I’m cumming, princess~!” He groaned as he pulled back away from the bite mark. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

Only once you both are done shaking does Suguru pull out of you. He quickly pulls the curtain shut before he leans against it, cradling you gently against his chest. His voice is deep and smooth as he hums your name over and over again as the last waves of your orgasms pass.

“Princess, mmm, you’re utterly insatiable.” He groans as he pulls out of you. “God, I love you.”

“I love you too, Sugu~ god, I love it when you talk dirty to me like that.”

“Oh really?”

“Mhmm~ makes me wet and needy.”

Suguru has you over his shoulder in one swoop, carrying you towards the bedroom. “Good. I hope you’re ready to soak the bed because I’m not even close to being done with you.” In that instant, you were so glad you had invested in a waterproof mattress cover.

Nanami Kento:

“Look at the mess you made.” you’re on your knees, looking up at your boyfriend who towers above you. His hand is wrapped around the base of his cock, stroking it as he motions towards the wet spot on his suit pants. A mess that was caused by yourself when you squirted all over his cock at the school. Didn't warn you not to make a mess?”

Nanami strokes himself up and down, squeezing at the tip of his cock. His head tilts back as a bead of pre-cum dribbles out of the tip. If you knew, this was where you would end up after blatantly disobeying him, you might’ve reconsidered your choices. All you wanted to do was to take him into your mouth and him like he had done for you. But you had made a mess all over his final pursuit; he had decided to pleasure himself above you.

“Such a disobedient whore of a girlfriend I have.” He grunts, stroking himself faster. “Getting off to me shouting, then she has the indecency of begging for me to fuck her on school grounds.”

“Kento please—just let me—” you read your hand up to grip his shaft, only to have your hand watered away by Nanami’s left hand. “Please I wanna make you feel good!”

Nanami chokes on a moan, his eyes rolling back as he strokes his cock faster. “Then perhaps instead of being a dirty needy slut, you should’ve considered what may have happened once we got home. I was planning fully on fuck you into the mattress. But someone was impatient, needy, and desperate for my cock like the whore she is.” You whine at the derogatory terms he’s throwing at you. It makes your pussy throb, eager to please him for him to use you and call you such things. But for him to stand above, you jerking himself off above your face. This was like torturous foreplay, like edging.

“Kento I’m sorry!” Nanami glances down at your face watching as you stick your bottom lip out in a pout. “Please let me help you! I’ll let you use my mouth, please!”

“Now you’re begging for it like some cum thirsty, bitch in heat?”

“Yes! Yes, I’m begging for it! I want you so bad~ please Kento~ please.”

“Please what?”

“Please let me suck you off!”

Your pussy throbbed and clenched around nothing as you continued to stare up at your boyfriend. His gaze softens just a bit, as he hums, taking in your needy desperate appearance. You're squirming, pushing your thighs together, your hands gripping at your pants, as an outlet for all of the desire coursing through your veins. As much as Nanami would have loved to keep this act up, stroking his cock, making you suffer, he couldn't deny that he would much rather use you.

Nanami grunted, stepping closer to you, holding his cock out in front of your mouth. “You begged so nicely, it would be such a shame not to reward you.” He rubbed the tip of his cock over your bottom lip. “Now open up, and say ahh~”

“Ahh~!”

Nanami grunted, shoving his cock deep inside of your throat without any warning. Your eyes went wide as you choked around him, gagging as he gripped the sides of your face. Tears blurred your vision as you focused on exhaling through your nose at the sudden intrusion of his covk kissing the back of your throat.

“Oh fuck~ I thought my dirty need slut wanted me to fuck her mouth?” a blond eyebrow arched as you hummed around his shaft. “You're such a dirty girl~ are you thirsty for my cum?” You hummed again, glancing up at him as the tears spilled over your cheeks. “Then be a good girl for once in your pathetic life and take it all.”

Nanami pulled his cock out of your mouth before slamming it back in the tip, kissing the back of your throat deliciously. You choked and gagged but focused your attention on breathing through your nose and it attempt not to gag. Even though you put in your best effort not to gag around your boyfriends cock, you choked, gurgling around, winning, satisfied, groan from above you. Nanami sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, biting down on it as he set a pace, one that had your clenching, as your arousal soaked your underwear.

“Oooh that's it, just like that dirty little slut. Oooh, haaah fuck~!” You gagged more, moaning as he gripped both sides of your face and we can fucking you. His cock slipped down the back of your throat, causing more tears to stream down your face. “Such a good girl. Take my cock like some fucking whore. But you’re not just any common fucking whore are you? No, you’re my whore.”

You cried out softly nodding as he gripped your face harder, facing your mouth faster. “M-mmm! Ngggh!” you gagged, shutting your eyes tight in pure concentration.

“Oh fuck, fuck you're doing such a good job~ like my own little personal fleshlight~ so good pretty girl~ So. Fucking. Good.” With each thrust you could feel Nanami’s cock getting harder, growing in size as his cock dribbled sweet pre-cum all over your tongue, feeding your lust. “Ah~ shit~ love~!”

Your gagging and moans, drew Nanmi’s attention down. As he fucked your face he watched your eyes shut tight, as your nostrils flared as you struggled to breath through your nose. But the flush that dusted your beautiful skin, told him you were getting off on this as much as he was. His voice, the way he spoke down to you as he fucked your face. All of these factors put together was driving you mad. Thinking about how wet you must be had Nanami yanking his cock out of your mouth.

You coughed roughly drool and precum dripping down your chin as Nanami yanked you up pulling you on to your feet dragging you into the bedroom. He laid down on his back patting his chest as he wrapped his hand around his shaft. You watched him for a moment before he growled grabbing you with his freehand pulling you onto the bed.

“Sit on my face while you suck my cock. I want to taste you.”

“Y-Yes sir!”

A pleased hum of approval sounded in Nanami’s chest as you slipped out of your shorts. “Ooh looks like my little slut can follow simple directions.” You straddled his face, your cheeks burning as you bent forward taking his cock inside of your mouth, just as Nanami spread your folds apart, watching your entrance twitch as you gagged on him. By god, your slick coated your pussy, you really loved him talking down to you.

“Mhmm~” he ran his tongue slowly over your slit, licking from your dripping entrance all the way to your clit. “Fuck~ my dirty girl tastes so good.” his tongue repeated the same movements as you began deep-throating him. “Mmhm~ fucn~ fuck so sweet~ you're getting wetter~ you like sucking on your man’s cock that much hub? Yeah you ducking do.”

“Gahh~” you gagged around him as he began bucking his hip up into your mouth. His cock slid down the back of your throat, as he slipped his tongue inside of your cunt, lapping at the warm spongy walls, groaning as your juices coated his tongue. “Mmm~!!”

Nanami groaned from below you, his face buried deep between your legs as you bobbed up and down, groaning and moaning around his throbbing shaft. Hearing the desperation in you moans, feeling your mouth wrapped so tightly around him, had Nanami moving just as eagerly as you, tongue swirling inside you, the tip rubbing perfectly over that sweet spot deep inside of your, as he reached his hand between your bodies rubbing circles around your clit.

“Mhmm~ fuck~ fuck yes what a good girl~ suckjng my cock so good evening with my tongue buried inside her pussy. Mmm.” Lips replaced his fingers as he sucked on your clit. “Fuck yeah~ mhmm my dirty girl~ suck my cock~ keep it up~ I'm almost there~!”

Your boyfriend dick throbbed deep inside of your mouth as his orgasm crept up on him. He groaned, as you cupped his balls massaging them

In your hands. And that, along with a loud moan around his aching dick has cum filling your mouth. The sweet-salty tang coats your tongue as you try to swallow, but that's a little difficult. Nanami is moaning into your pussy as bucks his hip, losing himself in his orgasm, pulling you down with him.

You cum all over his face, pulling off his dick in a miss of spit and cum. The mess you weren't able to swallow spills all over Nanami's abdomen, as you ride his tongue, crying out his name as you ride out the waves of your orgasm. And your boyfriend, oh he swallows every drop, lapping and flicking his tongue swallowing it down like it was the finest wine in the word. He only gives up his relentless efforts as when you pull away, fighting to free yourself from over stimulation.

“Haaah, haaah-fuck Kento.” you gasp out as he sits up your hip as positing you to sit on his lap with your back against his firm chest. “T-That felt s-so good.”

“Ooh~? Good, because we're just getting started.” his hardening erection rubs over your sore cunt, leaving you staring down in stunned silence: “ooh you didn't think that was your punishment for getting my suit dirty did you?”

“U-Uh—”

“Love, no, that was just a warm up.” he lovingly kissed your cheek turning you to face the mirror on your dresser. “You're in for a long night of making up for the mess you made, by making several messes of your own.”

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks

[m2marie]

Mission with the Newbie

Summary: Y/n is send off on a mission with her new Mentor. Natasha Romanoff. Of all people, the woman who doesn’t seem to like her. Or so she assumed.

It’s been a week since I moved into the Avengers Compound, and honestly, I haven’t had much time to settle in properly. Everything still feels a bit overwhelming. It's like everyone knows what to do and how to act, and i just haven't found my place yet.

I get along well with everyone though —well, almost everyone.

Wanda is always so joyful and kind, she helped me settle in the last couple days and I'm so glad to have her around. We just clicked immediately and she really seems to get me. Natasha thought is the complete opposite.

I can’t shake the feeling that Natasha doesn’t like me. Every time we’re in the same room, she either throws some sarcastic comment my way or just stares at me for way too long. It’s like she’s analyzing me or waiting for me to mess up. I have no idea what I did to get on her bad side, but it’s starting to drive me crazy. I’ve tried to ignore it, but it’s impossible when the tension is so obvious.

This morning, we both ended up in the kitchen. She was leaning against the counter, sipping her coffee, while I fumbled around looking for a clean mug. The silence was unbearable until she finally spoke.

“You always take this long to find a cup, or is it a special skill?” she said, her tone dripping with mockery. I turned to face her, trying to keep my voice steady.

“I didn’t realize coffee mugs were a competition around here.” She smirked and took another sip. “Relax. It’s just an observation. You’re so jumpy all the time.”

“I wouldn’t be if you didn’t keep staring at me like I’m about to explode,” I shot back, unable to hold it in anymore.

Natasha raised an eyebrow, her smirk fading slightly. “Maybe you’re just imagining things.”

“Maybe,” I said, though I didn’t believe it for a second. The room fell silent again, but this time it felt even heavier. Wanda and Pietro entering the kitchen finally ended my misery. Pietro had taken off his shirt, it was hanging over his left shoulder. A bit of sweat running down his forehead He was chatting with his sister, wearing a black sports bra and some red leggings. The same exhaustion visible on her reddened face. They obviously just came back from some sort of sport.

I am already proud of myself for standing in the kitchen, dressed and ready for the day at 7:30 am. Their energy really is a mystery to me.

"Hey Y/n, Tony wants to see you in his lab later.", Pietro tells me while peeling his orange. "Me?", i ask back, a bit perplexed. Tony and I have only exchanged a few sentences so far. As far as I noticed he spends most of his time in the lab. Fury was the one wanting me on the team. It's not like Tony seemed to have a problem with it, he didn't really care much for my presence so far.

"Yes you. Don't be so shocked, it's been about time he talks to you about your job on the team.", Wanda chuckled, "And he wants to see you too Nat."

She lets out an audible sight "Great. Lets get this over with then"

I follow the redhead to Tony’s lab, where he was leaning over a holographic display. When we walk in, he turns with his signature smirk. “Ah, just the ones i was looking for. Glad you could join me.”

“Get to the point, Stark,” Natasha said, her tone sharp. Tony chuckles . “Alright, here’s the deal. A small mission’s come up—nothing major, won’t take long. Natasha, I want you to handle it. And,” he gestures toward me, “take our newbie here along. Teach her a thing or two about going undercover.”

Natasha’s eyes narrowe. “You’re kidding.” She exhales slowly, the irritation clear in her voice. “So now I’m a babysitter.”

“Call it mentorship,” Tony says with a grin. “You’ll thank me later.”, what was that suppose to mean?

The drive to the motel is quiet for the most part, save for Natasha’s occasional muttering about Tony’s brilliant ideas. When we finally pull up to the small, run-down building, she kills the engine and looks at me. Her green eyes sparkling in the sun. I never noticed how mesmerizing her eyes are. “Welcome to your first undercover lesson: how to survive terrible accommodations.”, she smirks.

I followe her inside, and the receptionist hands us one key. Natasha doesn't say anything until we walk into the room. She stopps dead in her tracks. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

I peek over her shoulder and see the problem immediately—there was only one bed.

“Well, this is cozy,” I say awkwardly.

Natasha doesn't respond though, she throws the key onto the nightstand and crosses her arms. “You take the bed. I’ll take the chair.”

“You don’t have to do that! It's big enough, we can share.” I offer quickly. Too quickly maybe. She is barley bearable with a good nights sleep, i don't want to get to know a Natasha who just spend 8 hours on a hard wood chair.

She gave me a pointed look. “I’m fine. Just try not to snore.”

“Do you always sound this thrilled about missions?” I asked, trying to lift the awkward mood.

She smirks faintly, sitting down in the chair and kicking her feet up on the table. “Only when I’m stuck with rookies.”

I wasn’t sure if she was teasing or being serious, but I decided to leave it at that. This was going to be a long mission.

"So..." i start, not really knowing what I want to say. I am just trying to get away from this awkward tension. "... do we have a plan? Or are we just winging it."

"Lesson number two: We are never 'winging it', there is always a plan. And in this case, you follow mine." She explains. "Got it!", do i thought? Im not really better informed than i was a minute ago. But Nat didn't really seem to care much. My so called "Mentor" just started unpacking her bags. Silence. Again. I watch her every move. How she moves so gracefully across the room. Her red her swinging from side to side while she placed her few belongings to their new temporary places. She always seems so cold, distance. But there is something drawing me to her. I can't really place it , can't explain it. "It's important you dont get too distracted tomorrow. Try not staring at me too much or you'll mess up the whole mission " She interrupts my thoughts and i can feel the head working its way up into my head.

"No distractions. I'll remember that.", i answer looking down to hide my blush. But her little smirk still doesnt go unnoticed by me.

"You know, I never know what to call you.", I try to change the subject. Natasha looks at me, confusion written on her face. "Natasha, Nat, Romanoff... everyone has a different name for you", i clarify. Her green eyes piercing in my direction, slightly tilting her head,"You can call me whatever you want".

"Alright", i said slowly, unsure if that was actually helpful.

The next morning i woke up alone in our small room. Stretching my arms I looked across the room. The chair Nat demanded to spend the night on was turned towards my bed. The door cracks open slowly and Nat enters the room, holding two plates and two cups of coffee. "Rise and shine. We have a mission to attend to.", she says with a million dollar smile across her face.

Did i wake up in a new dimension? Why is she so enthusiastic all of a sudden. She really cant wait to get this babysitting job over with I assume.

"While you are getting your beauty sleep in, i made some research and this mission is even easier then expected."

And she was right. Unsurprisingly. The mission itself had been quick. We did the groundwork, got the intel, and i followed her lead. Nat worked effortlessly, efficiently. Her good mood from this morning didn't change either. Her icy professionalism long gone and instead replaced with linguine gaze. Either im starting hallucinating or THE Black widow, Natasha Romanoff, is checking me out. I dont know what changed, what caused her change in demeanor, but im not complaining about it.

When we got back to our Motel, Natasha didn't speak a word. Parking the car she grabbed my arm and pulled me towards our room. The hallway was quiet, almost as if we were completely alone in this motel. She turned around, looking into my eyes. I forced myself not to turn my gaze away from her dominant stare. Im almost certain that her eyes are slowly turning darker. Or it might me duo the flickering lamps. "This Hotel is total crap.", she states, as if she could read my mind. "But its on us to make the best of it, right?", her signature smirk returning again. Am in reading this situation completely wrong or is she shamelessly flirting with me right now?!

Without thinking, I stepped closer. The space between us disappeared easily, and suddenly, I was right in front of her. The air was thick with tension, and she didn’t back away—if anything, she leaned in, her presence making my heart race.

Before i could say anything else, i could feel her lips on mine. It was electric, urgent, like we’d both been waiting for this without realizing it. Her lips were soft but insistent, pulling me closer. The kiss deepened, and I felt the world around us fade away. It was just the two of us, caught in the heat of the moment.

Pressing me against the door, her thigh in between my legs. "Maybe we should... go inside?" I husk out when our lipa finally part.

"Why? Afraid someone will see us out here?"She stepped closer, her fingers brushing lightly against my arm. “Or are you just eager to get me alone again?”

The way she said it made my pulse spike, and I was certain she could tell. I swallowed hard, struggling for a clever comeback, but before I could say anything, she grabbed the key and opened the door herself, glancing over her shoulder as she walked inside.

“Coming?” she asked, the smirk never leaving her face.

And just like that, I knew she had the upper hand—but for once, I didn’t mind.

Thats it :)) My first time writing something, so i hope it wasn't too weird and chaotic... otherwise give me feedback