#Was this just an excuse for me to draw them both with long hair?

[backwards-blackbird]

I'd welcome an Amon Lives Lieumon AU sketch. What would they get up to after the war when the fighting is done?

You mean that thing I daydream about 25/8? Don't mind if I doooo-

(An expansion on this half-baked cookie of a hastily-answered ask )

After the Equalists were dismantled, Lieu ended up in a small seaside town in the Earth Kingdom, somewhere decently south of Republic City. He picked up a job as a dock worker for a shipping company. His supervisor, who also owns a row of for-lease warehouses on the waterfront, gave him a place to stay. After Noatak - unvanquishable cockroach that he is - survived the boat explosion, he coincidentally ended up on the shores of the very same town. Lieu can hardly believe it when he runs into him again.

The healing process - emotionally and physically - is a long and painful one. But the two take well to living together, and take comfort in being the only remaining ties to each other's pasts. They become more inseparable than ever.

Noatak lays low for some time, until news travels worldwide of the boat wreckage, and Amon is presumed dead. With his wounds healed, Noatak decides to start training again, and Lieu assists. He ends up teaching young local non-benders self defense in the empty warehouse adjacent to his and Lieu's apartment. He is of course a water bender, and his pupils know this. But he uses moves informed by bending forms to better educate non-benders in combat. After everything, he still wants nothing more than to empower non-benders.

Lieu gives him hell about flirting with disaster - "Local man with a big scar on his face opens a non-bender self-defense academy? Spirits, man, subtlety isn't your strong suit." But luckily, no one's the wiser, and they enjoy their quiet little life together.

Tl;dr Lieu and Amon deserve a happy ending, dammit, and this is the one I like to give them. <3 Thanks for the request!!

[differenteagletragedy]

To me, Simon has the dumbest hair 90% of the time because he just buzzes it himself (I cannot believe that man pays money to one, do something he could theoretically do himself, and two, spend time with a stranger). The other 10% it's good -- when he first cuts it, an eighth of an inch of pale fuzz left behind, and when it just starts growing out, that's fine. But a lot of the time, especially when he's at home, he just lets it go.

And you, his next door neighbor, will never not give him shit about it.

"You look so goofy," you tell him when you see him in the hallway, one arm holding your groceries and the other fiddling with your keys. "Just cut it, Jesus Christ."

He rolls his eyes or tells you to fuck off, because you've known each other long enough for that kind of thing. He's lived in the building for years, never having seen a reason to leave, and you've been there for a few yourself. You're friends in the way that you may not call or text or schedule time to hang out, but you can scarcely think of anyone you see more often.

"Seriously," you go on, unlocking your door and speaking louder so he can hear you when you go inside. "It's just like two inches sticking straight off your head, why are you walking around like that?"

"Doesn't bother me," Simon answers, moving to lean against your doorframe and watch you as you put up your things. "Seems to bother you an awful lot though."

Your back is to him while you move around your kitchen, but you can tell he's smirking, and you scoff.

"Yeah, it bothers me. You get a face like that and you go and screw it up with the dumbest excuse for a haircut I've ever seen."

It's not the first time you've flirted with him, or even the most direct time, but it still gives him pause. He doesn't wear his mask when he's not working, most of the time anyway, because he thinks it draws too much attention and he'd prefer to just slip into the shadows wherever he goes. But you seeing him, and you letting him know that you like what you see, it does something to him, every time.

"You cut it then," he says.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. You're the one so torn up about it, you fix it."

You snort, finally turning back to him, saying, "I'm not a barber, stupid."

"No, you sure seem like a coward though."

A few minutes later, you're both in Simon's bathroom. He's got his shirt off, straddling the toilet so you can reach his head, and you're behind him with clippers in your hand, looking down at him. You've never seen this much of him, never even seen the place where his tattoos stop on his arm, and it's a lot to take in.

You want to take your time, commit every scar, every freckle to memory, but he turns his head, smirking again.

"Told you you were a coward."

Without a word, you turn on the clippers and get to work.

It's not hard, it's just a buzzcut. The hard part is in touching his ears, gently pushing the lobes down to trim around them. It's in sneaking glances over his shoulder to watch his chest as it rises and falls while you work. In trying not to notice the tiniest little hitch in his breath when you lean in closer and rest your hand on his back while you get the hairs on the back of his neck.

The worst part though, is the beauty mark that sits perfectly in the place where his neck meets his shoulder. Specifically, the worst part is the strong, almost uncontrollable urge to bite it.

When you're done, you turn off the clippers and set them on his bathroom counter, then dust off his shoulders for him. Just before he stands, you can't deny yourself any longer -- you won't be able to reach it when he's not sitting so perfectly like this -- and give a quick, soft kiss to the mark.

During all the time you've known Simon, he's barely responded to your flirting. To you, he doesn't seem interested, and to him, you don't seem serious. But a kiss, faint as it may have been, is different, and before you can register it, he's on his feet, turned and standing over you.

"Hair looks better," you say softly.

He grunts in response, and before you know it, his mouth is covering yours, hot and insistent. It's a heady feeling, having him so close, and before you can get used to it, his hands are on you, first on your waist, then on your hips, then on the backs of your thighs as he lifts you up and holds you against him.

He maneuvers you both out of the bathroom and towards his bedroom, where he unceremoniously tosses you on his bed. You look up at him, letting your eyes trail freely over his body now, going down when you see him place his hands on his belt.

"Not so mouthy now, are you?"

[okwonyo]

LOOSE ✶ down!bad enha ｡

𝗧𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗜 ────── 𝗆𝗒 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝗌𝗈 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝖼𝗈𝗈𝗅.

❪ 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐒 ❫ ｡ enhypen & fem!rea 14OO fluff established relationship ── kissing skinship very pathetic boys ◜ᴗ◝ DAILY

骚人 ܃ hyung line is longer because i wrote them in my pcㅠㅠ stream loose and enjoy 🎀

HEESEUNG

he swears he is not crazy. he swears that there is nothing wrong with him�� for him to be looking at you like that. but, he admits that he cannot control himself, especially when you are doing so simple and making his heart bounce in his chest.

this is the hottest you could have done, ever. your lips moving at the way you say his name, “heeseung, wait,” you say in a soft tone. halting him in his movements as he gets ready to get out of the house.

his mouth falls agape, he stays still, watching you seduce him by holding your hair tie in between your lips. your neck stretches when you lean your head back, and he has to fight every urge of his to not bite—teasing— your exposed skin.

his eyes widen ever so slightly whereupon your gaze meets his when you finally tie your hair into a ponytail. there is a small smile that draws itself on your lips— you know you’ve got him starstruck; “who are you looking at like that?”

your voice shakes him out of his trance, but he can’t help but find you gorgeous. he doesn’t even have the strength to flirt, too touched by your dizzying beauty, “i’m looking at you.”

JAY

“honey,” you call him. voice still filled with drowsiness, you close the shelf and get back on your feet to turn towards your boyfriend— who is busy making breakfast for you both— after he hums, “where is my mug?”

the man looks over his shoulder quickly, there is endearing smile written on his lips, “here,” then he tilts his chin to the shelf next to him, therefore to the opposite side of where you stand, to indicate what he means by his declaration.

you are half still in dreamland and way too sleepy to ask him to get it for you as well as to think about any other way of getting to that shelf without walking between him and the kitchen counter. he wasn’t ready for what was coming.

without thinking much of it, your hands rest on his well sculpted waist, your fingertips brush against his firm abs. you are too busy saying, “excuse me,” to notice that he goes fully rigi and that he has stopped cooking.

for a while, there is a quite heavy silence in the kitchen. it takes you a moment to realize— you get on your tiptoes first and get your well needed mug. you notice that his face is as red as a tomato just a few seconds later.

JAKE

his fluffy brown is a blessing. he doesn’t need you to tell him about it to know it. he thanks the deity who gave it to him, as well as the one who gifted him with a girlfriend who is quite literally obsessed with his hair.

he loves when your fingers run through his hair. when he lays with his head on your laps, and he feels his hair being played with, he can’t help but fall asleep. and when you grip his hair sweetly as he kisses you, he whines. that how much he loves it.

but this time, this is something new. a brand new gesture coming from you. a gesture that brings a new feeling inside of his stomach— it’s worse than butterflies, burning more than fire.

“i’ll be back in a few,” you tell him, his heartbeats get higher as your hands reach for his head. you tuck his long fluffy hair strand behind his hear— on both sides. double tuck, double heart attack. then you kiss him when he is too stunned to say anything, “love you.”

he stays in shock for a moment. until the door shuts and he realizes that your warm hands aren’t cupping his face anymore. his brings his hand to his chest, feeling his heart beating loudly, “wow.”

SUNGHOON

you are driving him insane. on purpose, you are driving him into a spiral, with the simple touch of your lips on his skin. everywhere, on his nose, on his cheek, on the corner of his lips— but never on them.

“please,” he pleads. his voice is a little bit shaky as he sighs, heavy with the desperation of a kiss from you. as you approach again, he can’t control himself and pucker his lips again. this time, you are so close that he actually believes for a second that his misery would end.

but you kiss the other corner of his mouth again, and even if he can feel your lips, it is not enough for him. this time, he groans, hiding his red face in the crook of your neck as you laugh.

he could kiss you himself. he could pin you against the couch and collapse his mouth onto yours but he can’t. your kisses, although they never reached his lips, made him weak in the knees, red in the face down to his neck. he is unable to fight back—not when the slightest brush of your mouth against his skin makes him so flustered.

“you are so mean,” his voice is weak. you don’t know why you started this, but you thank yourself for the idea.

SUNOO

he can feel shyness creeping to his neck more and more the longest your pretty eyes settle on him. they don’t move as he talks— you stare at him, not blinking.

it is not much the unwavering gaze that got his heart hammering against his chest. but the anticipation of what is about to come next, the endearing word that you will use to qualify him soon enough.

it is ridiculous, he knows. you have complimented him a lot of times before, yet it still has the same effect on him.

he tries to not look into your eyes, tries to stare at the ceiling, the television, your hands, everywhere but your eyes. he fails, and when he sees the smile appearing on you face; he knows he is done for.

“you have pretty eyes,” the words slip out of your mouth, smooth as water. he drinks the compliment, his head falls backwards as he hides his blushing face. you are going to kill him one day.

JUNGWON

it starts as soon as you arrive back at home. when he rushes to you after the door opening and your gentle greeting. he is quick to lock you in his embrace.

“hi,” you giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck to reciprocate his hug. you let yourself be lifted up by the man— who does it with barely any effort at, if not none.

he doesn’t respond. well, at least not properly. he mumbles something into your shoulder and then you can feel his nose in the crook of your neck, “you smell nice.” is what he tells you.

you are taken aback, you admit that. “oh?” it feels like he trying to get the tip of his nose through your flesh. his embrace becomes tighter and his skin gets warmer. wait— “are you blushing?”

he makes a sound that is between a groan and a whine. you can see his neck getting crimson. he doesn’t let go for a while.

RIKI

given the obvious difference between his height and yours, he tends to lean in a lot whenever you talk. he says that it is to hear you better but the truth is: he loves to see you get nervous over it.

however, he was never the one being victim of this movement. therefore, he is a little dazed when it happens to him for the first time.

he holds your wrist as you get up from your place, making you turn around and stop in your track. still sitting, the man is a bit doe eyed as he looks up at you.

he says something that you can’t hear, due to your friends talking loudly around you both. he gets ready to repeat, louder— but his throat gets dry when you lean closer, slightly bending down to him.

his grip around your wrist becomes lighter, his mouth opens to talk but your perfume and your breath so close to his skin makes him unable to say anything.

taglist is open ! ♡ feedbacks&reblogs are appreciated

[sugarverse]

𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙬𝙣 𝘾𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙧 𝙏𝙤𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧

word count: 3.2k

mentions of: yeah its just sex,, uhhhh ya get together at the end but it’s pretty vanilla and i think this might be one of my fav writings for iida so far ehehehe this story was so fun to make. I plan on making a pt.3 and I’m going to postttt soon idk :P

part one

moodboard here!

You tied a cute bow in the belt of your robe once more, walking over to him and fixing the glasses on his oh so cherry red face. “Tenya..?” You ask, sitting on the side of the table next to him. You glance down at the sketch, seeing how far he had actually gotten. It was pretty impressive for someone who is a beginner when it comes to realism, or art itself really. “Do you want some help?”

His jaw was slack, staring up at you now that you were so much closer. Whatever perfume you had on almost made him faint, and there was nothing he could really formulate besides a very quiet, “Ex..excuse me?”

“I said, Do you want some help..?” You tease, leaning down so your faces were only a few inches from each other. You reach for his tie, slowly sliding your hand down his chest. “I wouldn't want you to fail just because your model was a distraction..” You lean closer, gripping the end of his tie as ruby eyes glancing down at your pretty plump lips.

Did you mean help help him, or draw it yourself? There was no way he was reading into this wrong, right? Did you see his hard-on the whole time?? He gave a long blink, trying to keep his head on straight. “I w..would love-” Before he could finish the sentence, you tug on the tie and press your lips against his. He melted into you, hands placing themselves onto your hips softly almost as if you’d break if he did touch you.

He had yearned for this for so long. There was no way you felt this way all this time and he never picked up on it. The thought only made him deepen the kiss, his hands moving to hold your face in his palms. You let his tie go with a smile, giggling at his eagerness to kiss you back. You place your hands on his shoulder, feeling him stand but refusing to let his lips leave yours. It felt like fireworks were going off around the two of you, only pulling away when you both needed the air.

Tenya was once again standing with crooked glasses, red faced, and this time slightly out of breath. “Y/n I.. Why didn’t.. How did I not..” He panted, after what was only a few seconds, he crashed his lips against yours before you could even respond to his stuttering. You whimpered in response, attempting to untie the tie the best you could with your eyes closed. He helped you, loosening it and letting his hands tangle themselves behind your head and into the kitchen of your hair the best he could. He just wanted you closer. Closer than he already was.

You pull away from him, feverishly leaving kissing along his sharp jawline. He sighed, hands going back to your waist patiently. He rubbed your sides up and down as you kissed down his neck, letting out a breathless whine at the missing feeling of your warm lips against his.

“Why haven't we ever k..kissed before now if this is how you ..f-felt..” He sucked in a sharp gasp once you kissed the right side of his neck. Bingo. You bit down on that spot listening to him groan in your ear, gripping your hips a little harder.

You open your legs slightly so he can stand between them, his body involuntarily pulling you towards the edge as he takes the step towards you. “Because I can't lose you.. I never thought you'd feel the same..” You mumble against his skin, leaving open mouthed kisses down to his collar before unbuttoning it.

You could feel the hard-on poke at your thigh, tauntingly moving to grind against him. After all, the silk of your robe was the only thing keeping him from well.. you. He ached, looking down at you with an almost heartbroken look in his eyes.

“Of course I do, I have wanted you for a very long time.. I know I can treat you better than anyone else out there y/n. It hurts so bad when you'd find someone else more interesting than me. I thought I was too..” He paused for a second, groaning as he grinded against you subconsciously. “A square, if you will.” He chuckled nervously at the admission, feeling you nipping at the most sensitive part of his neck as he let out soft moans and grumbles.

You pull away to look at him, fixing his glasses from earlier with a small giggle. “There's nothing wrong with liking books, or wanting to follow the rules..” Manicured hand began to unbutton his collar and down his shirt.

“And I just never thought you'd go for someone like me. I assumed you'd want a shy girl or somthin’.. I guess we really did make an ass out of u and me.” You tease, giggling once more at your own play on words. You stopped about halfway down his shirt unless this was too much. You didn't wanna be too pushy but God did you want to see those abs.

He let out a small laugh as well, staring down at your gorgeous lips. “I would have told you a lonnnng time ago, y/n. I'm sorry I didn't–” He started, feeling your finger press against his lips to stop him.

“We know now, don't we? Now we move forward.” You wrap your legs around his waist, watching him nod until you move your finger away. “How about I finally help you?” You run a hand down his chest, watching him shudder at the feeling of your acrylics.

He leaned over you, hands moving onto the table rather than on your hips. “If we're going to do anything, I want to do it the right way..” You wanted to pout at his response. He was right, being caught would be absolutely terrible for the both of you. I guess it wouldn't hurt to go back to one of your apartments and finish? Ugh but then the mood is different..

As the gears in your brain worked, Tenya still mindless pressing against you, began kissing you once more. You smile, coconut colored eyes following as he kisses your neck. This time looking for you to gasp or make some sort of noise. His lips smirked against your skin, kissing down to your shoulder and moving the robe off of it. He bit right between your neck and shoulder, causing you to squeal and grip onto his shirt.

Your eyes fluttered, feeling him kiss down to your collarbone. He guided a hand to unbutton the rest of his shirt, the other going back to resting on your waist. He made sure to kiss down the valley of your breasts, not breaking eye contact with you once had he looked up.

“May I?” He motioned to the robe, watching you quickly shrug the silk off of your other shoulder and pulling the tie of your belt. All he needed was to open it up completely. He chuckled at your quickness, letting it pull around your legs once again. He made sure to kiss both of your boobs, finishing with the unbuttoning of his shirt. He used that hand to pinch at your nip, putting the other in his mouth to suck on.

You arch your back into his touch, whimpering as you squeezed your legs around him in response. You could feel him smile, swapping to give your girls equal attention. He felt you buck at such simple actions, kissing down your navel and to where your robe pooled.

“You sound so sweet.. I need to taste you. Wouldn't be gentlemanly of me to go first baby,” You melted at the name, nodding hurriedly. He smiled, going onto his knees and scooping his arms under your knees. He pulled you to the edge, watching you jolt in surprise. You could feel your heart beating in more places than one. The entire time the only thing that had been covering you up was that flimsy piece of silk which he finally moved out of the way, staring down at you for a moment.

This obviously wasn’t the first time he’s been in a sexual situation, but he couldn’t help but freeze for a moment. You were so stunning.. ethereal even. He really didn’t mean to stare, not wanting you to think something was wrong or he was too scared. Just very much in love with the look of you. He finally breaks concentration, looking up at you with a small smile. “You promise this is okay?” He wanted to double check just in case you saw him as he saw himself.. God forbid you did.

“I promise.” You put your pinky out, watching him move his hand from your thigh to interlock his pinky with yours. Without any hesitation, he shoved his glasses up and opened your legs wider. He kissed your clit before starting to suck on it, crimson eyes staring up at you to see what he was doing well vs what you didn’t like as much. Your breathing hitched, hand going to take the glasses and set them on the table so you could grip onto his hair the correct way. You rut your hips towards him, staring down in awe.

He couldn’t help but stare back up at you, strong hands keeping your thighs pressed against his shoulders despite your involuntarily squirming. He swirled his tongue around your bundle of nerves, hands gripping onto your thighs so he could be as close as possible. You tasted so sweet. Damn near sweeter than fruit, only making him want more. Flattening his tongue against you and going back to giving your sensitive spot hell.

You pulled at his navy blue hair, hands gripping onto him as you rode yourself against his tongue. Stuttering out praises through pants and moans, “Ffffuck.. tenya-ah!~” You squeak out, thighs beginning to shake from wanting to close. He slithered a hand from your thigh, teasingly tracing his index finger around your entrance. “Don’t t..tease me!” You leaned forward, hair falling around your shoulders as you looked down at him.

“Please please pl-ngh~!” Your begging was stopped by the feeling of two thick fingers sliding into you as he swirled his tongue around your clit some more. He made sure to curl them, feeling you clench around his fingers drove him insane. Thrusting his fingers into you even faster than his tongue was moving. You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, the knot in your stomach starting to tighten. You couldn’t keep quiet even if you really wanted to. You were on another planet.

The face you made when you came could only be described as angelic to iida, he watched as you came undone around his lips. You laid your back against the table as he lapped it up. Almost liked someone dying of dehydration. He slowed his fingers down, sliding them out of you to lick his fingers clean. He lightly placed your legs back onto the table. “You taste divine, you know that?” He asked, unbuckling his belt and tossing his wallet on the table.

You blink up at him, panting and giggling. “I know now,” You stared up at him, messy haired and mouth wet as lustful but loving eyes stared down at you. You took a mental picture, biting your lip to hold back your happy giggles. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, sliding the belt off and placing it on the chair behind him. “Let me,” You lean forward, unbuttoning his dress pants hurriedly and unzipping them. It ached being hard for so long, but as many times as he’s imagined this to play out, he was always going to make you feel good first.

“I need you, y/n..” He admitted almost in a whisper, reaching for his glasses so he could actually see you. You tug his pants down, letting out a small laugh to yourself at the red checkered underwear he wore before pulling them down as well. You assumed he’d be big, the man is 6 foot and built like a fucking unit.

What you weren’t expecting was for it to spring right in front of your face. There’s no way that can.. Well, Doesn’t matter if it fits or not. No way you’d miss the opportunity. He let out a chuckle, assumingly at your wide eyes.

“You have me,” You smile up at him with half lidded eyes, changing your expression quickly so you werent the one looking like a deer in headlights. You grab his cock with manicured nails, licking the precum from his tip before siding as much as you could into your throat.

His breath hitched, a small groan leaving his lips. “No sweetheart, I mean I need you. As much as.. I’d l..love you to,” He let out a breathless sigh filled with pleasure, head tilting back.

“Keep.. feeling your mouth, I need you. Awfully bad, I might a..add.” He struggled to speak, moans escaping his lips as he felt you take him completely down your throat for a moment. You pulled away with a pop, smiling up at him.

“Whatever you want, sir..” You tease, sitting up and putting your hands on his shoulders, slowly sliding them to his neck to cup his face. “Give me a few more kisses, huh mister?” You didn’t even have time to lean up, feeling his lips desperately go back to yours. You tangle your hands in his messy hair once more, feeling him lay you down gently.

He pulled your legs to the edge once more, listening to the squeak you let out as he subconsciously manhandled you. He looks over to the wallet he tossed on the table earlier, opening it to fish for a condom that he always carried around. Not that he ever thought he’d really use it.

“You don’t need one,” You see him quickly look at you as if you were insane, vermillion eyes studying your face. “I’m serious! If worse comes to worse I’ll stop by the pharmacy. I want us both to actually feel it..” You sit up once more, pretty brown eyes staring up at him pleadingly. You place a hand on his arm, which was enough for him to go standing right back in front of you.

“Are you sure, y/n? Absolutely positive?” He asked carefully, cock twitching at the cold air of the room. The snow from the skylight had covered it so much the room was practically black if it weren’t for the very dim but few lights in the room. You nod, giving him a reassuring kiss on the cheek.

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it,” You smile, laying back down. Big hands gripped your hips as he lined himself up to you, staring down at your sensitive bud for a moment before slowly sliding the tip into you. You whimper, gasping and letting your eyes roll back as he slid what you could take into you. You felt full, eyes trying to focus on the man in front of you.

“Fuck..” He muttered, leaning over you and kissing up from your collarbone to your neck, holding you close as he started to move gently into you. He knew he was big, and he didn’t plan on hurting you. he wanted it to be the best experience you’ve ever had.. despite the uncommon location. You hug him quickly, whining out and pressing your face into his shoulder. It couldn’t get closer than this.. Or so you thought, feeling him slowly start to fuck you open and press against that spot. Tears well in the corners of your eyes, gasping and biting the pain into his shoulder.

He hissed, making sure to go as slow as his mind and body would let him. He needed to see you completely undone, but your comfortability and adjusting to it would come first. “It’s okay sweetheart, ‘m right here. I got you. “ He whispered into your ear, nipping at your lobe with a small smile. You could hear how passionate he was in his voice, letting your legs wrap around him once more.

After a few more slow thrusts into you, you move from his shoulder and whisper back. “F..Fuck me like you mean it, Ten. I can take i..it.” You mewled out, feeling him kiss from your cheek to your lips before slamming into you. You squeaked, having trouble trying to kiss back. You couldn’t quiet down even if you wanted to. Your nails grab at his back, lightly scratching so you didn’t rip his skin open. Shit, fucking you like this you might not be able to stop yourself.

He shuddered at the feeling, pulling away from your lips to leave open mouthed kisses against your neck. You bite your lip hard, you didn’t know what time it was but you knew there were still people in the building. He slid his hands up to your back, letting his hands hold onto your shoulders from underneath you to keep you still while he fucked your brains out.

You were seeing stars, biting and leaving hickeys all over him to muffle yourself. He gritted his teeth, glancing down at you through foggy glasses. “You take it so good, honey.. Need..Need you like this all the time.” He huffed out, letting out another breathless chuckle at your fucked out expression. “Can I have you?”

Broken sobs of pleasure was really all you could give in return, nodding as quick as you could before kissing him once again. He smiled against your lips, letting a hand slide down to your clit. He only thumbed over it a few times before you came, legs squeezing tighter against his torso. He pulled his hand away, moving both of them back to your hips. He was obviously close too, but it felt so good he wasn’t sure he could pull out exactly in time.

“G-Gotta let me pull out, honey..” You shake your head no, burying your face into his skin once again. “Need.. need to feel.. In me– cum in me.” He began to slow down, trying to think through racing thoughts and how good you felt around him. It wasn't much time to make the decision and professionalism was already out the window at this point. “P.. Please- please tenya~?” You cry out, hugging close to him. If that’s what you wanted, he was going to oblige.

He gave a couple more thrusts, cumming into you and holding you close. Once you pulled away enough, he left peppered kisses amongst your neck and jaw.

You smile, sighing out tiredly before giving him a few kisses on his poor red lips. “You are my favorite human being on the planet,” You huff out, trying to continue but your thoughts were a bit scrambled. “I’m yours. For as long as you want me.”

He quickly responded, kissing your cheek in conformation. “Forever. I want you to be mine.. Forever.” He was sweaty, hair sticking to his forehead and still out of breath himself. His face was red, eyes hanging low from both tiredness and wonderment.

You giggle at his response, taking his glasses and cleaning them with the silk of the robe that was under you.

“Forever it is.”

© if you like what you see please reblog! It means a lot! Want more? Heres my m.list! I write for x black reader so throw me some requests :P my other account are icons and x black reader moodboards if you’re interested!

ALSO ALSO special thank you @urfriendlywriter for some of the smut ideas and the vocabulary, it helped better than fighting a thesaurus lol

thank you @thecutestgrotto and @arlerts-angel for the banners and thank you @fizzintine for coloring the top photo!

have a good day/night/whatever!

[gojover]

tsumiki gets the lead in her school’s winter play.

she’s glowing when she tells you, cheeks flushed from the cold, eyes bright like she’s been holding the news in all day just to tell you first. 

satoru lifts her up the second she walks through the door, spinning her in a wide circle that makes her shriek with laughter. “that’s my star!” he shouts, nearly knocking over the coat rack. “do you want a limo? should i hire a red carpet?”

tsumiki clings to his shoulders and giggles. “no! just come watch.”

and of course you do. you both promise. you mark it on the calendar taped to the fridge door in bold red marker. you talk about it at dinner almost every night. she rehearses in the living room with megumi reading out lines in monotone, and satoru insists on calling her miss celebrity for an entire week. you watch the little girl bloom like a cherry blossom in the midst of snow with pride in your chest and love in your eyes.

but the night of the performance, satoru gets called away. something urgent. something that doesn’t leave room for arguments or excuses, no matter how much you want to make one.

you’re the one who tells her.

you kneel beside her as she adjusts her costume in the mirror, her little paper crown slightly askew. she turns to you with a grin—“is it time yet?”—and you hate how it fades when she sees your face.

“he can’t come?” tsumiki asks quietly.

you shake your head. “he wanted to. really badly. but something came up.”

there’s a pause. a long one. then she nods, like she was expecting it. “it’s okay,” she says. “he’s busy.”

she tries to smile, and it’s brave. but her fingers tug at the hem of her sleeves for the rest of the evening. on the ride to school, she looks out the window the whole time, quiet in a way that makes your chest ache. you reach for her hand at a red light. she squeezes back, but doesn’t say a word.

backstage, she lets the other kids chatter around her. you help fix her hair, check her costume one last time, and whisper, “you’re going to be amazing.”

“i know,” tsumiki says, and stands in the spotlight with her chin high and her voice steady. she recites every line like she was born to do it. she draws laughs during her funny bits and beams when the audience claps. 

but you see the little glances she throws to the crowd when she thinks no one’s watching. the flicker of hope she holds onto, just in case. the way her smile falters—briefly, just for a second—when she doesn’t see him there.

you take a hundred pictures. you record every single scene she’s in. your phone storage nearly fills up, but you don’t care. you want to capture it all. every little piece, so he won’t miss anything.

after, when you hand her flowers and hug her tight, she grins again, tired but happy. she doesn’t say anything about him not being there. doesn’t bring it up at all. she just brushes her teeth at home, changes into her pajamas, and climbs into bed.

later, when the house is still and the kids are asleep, the front door creaks open. you’re curled up on the couch in the dark, the only light coming from the soft glow of the lamp turned on in the corner of the room.

satoru steps inside, hair windblown, shirt untucked, eyes searching. “did i miss everything?” he asks.

you nod, your heart twisting for both of them. you pull out your phone, unlock it, and hold it out. “here,” you say. “you didn’t miss it completely.”

he takes it from your hand and sinks down onto the couch like his legs have given up on him. you sit next to him in silence while he watches the first video, his face unreadable, like he’s holding his breath.

satoru watches every single video twice. the third time, he starts crying.

⇢ a/n: i wrote this because i was bored in class and ended up daydreaming about having a family with someone. sue me. + inspired by real life events.

[pjsfvs]

sex postion hcs - enha legal line

paring : enhypen (legal line) x afab!reader

warnings/tags : dom/sub, submission, dominance, masochism, sadism, exhibitionism, voyeurism, vaginal fingering, rough sex, unprotected sex, deep penetration, soft sex, breeding, heavy kissing, teasing, wall sex, hair pulling, if i missed anything let me know!

summary : The Legal Line's favorite sex position headcanons

a/n : don't leave hate comments for me to see. if you don't like it just block me and leave.

HEESEUNG :

Standing / Against Wall

Heeseung is a nuisance with no shame. He craves for how you gasp and whine when forced up against the wall.

If you’re in public, hidden in an alleyway perhaps, he’ll tease and mock you for being too loud until your biting your lip to keep your sweet noises secret.

If you choose to be loud then he’ll hold his hand over your lips to muffle your moaning. He doesn’t actually want to get caught, but he’ll use it as an excuse to slip his fingers into your mouth and toy with your tongue. He’ll twitch deliciously inside you if you suck them greedily.

“He-heeseung ..” you panted heavily, your legs shook with anticipation and arousal at the situation he’d got you in. Your chest was pressed up against the rough wall of the alley you’d both ducked down, your lovers' hands gripped at your hips as he pulled you back against his thick cock. The lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the air leaving nothing to the imagination.

His lips hovered at your neck, delicately brushing over your tender skin. You could feel the devilish smile he wore before he parted his mouth and lay firm kisses and nibbling bites. “Ah!” You cried out, shivers shooting through your spine.

You continued to tremble and gasp under his assaulting lips, heat blooming under the bites. He drew his tongue over the marks, before he pressed soft kisses up your neck until his lips rested at your ear.

“Shh..” he hushed, his breath tickling your reddened ear. “The sidewalk is barely a few steps away.” He reminded you with a mocking grin. You could still hear the chatter of Seoul citizens going about their evening. The thrill had you shaking, your needy cunt dripping at the idea of being caught in such an indecent position.

“Unless you want us to be caught?” He purposefully nipped at your ear lobe causing you to gasp audibly, your hips jerking back against his. He moaned unabashed as you tightened around him, his breath hot against your skin. His hold on you tightened, his nails digging into your skin almost painfully.

“Aaa.. n-no-!” You moaned, your desperate voice betraying your words. You were certain he was be able feel the heat from your cheeks. His deep groans only turned you on more and his pace never faltered, his cock reaching deep inside your eager cunt.

“Mm.. then you’re going have to try and be more quiet.” He chuckled, his voice deep and husky, laced in heavy arousal. With unrelenting purpose he thrust into your seeping cunt with long deep strokes, each one drawing out your gasping breath.

You quivered at the feeling, your arms braced against the wall shaking, you wondered how you were even supposed to be quiet when he teased you so relentlessly.

JAY :

Face Down, Ass Up

Jay is a no-nonsense guy, so when you’re in the bedroom with your rather arrogant lover he’ll desire nothing more than for you to be on the bed presenting yourself to him.

He loves to be in control, will thread his fingers into your hair and press your face down against the bed.

All the while his other hand roughly grips your hip, holding you in place as he takes you from behind.

You pressed your cheek against the soft bedding below you, your hands fisting the quilt as you kept your behind raised up. Completely naked and legs spread you shook with need; you could feel your slick leak out of your displayed cunt. A sharp inhale from you lover was all you heard before the bed creaked and dipped as Jay knelt on the edge.

A furious blush coated your cheeks, you chewed your lip in arousal and embarrassment. He needn’t say anything, you knew just how he wanted you. But today he seemed to desire a bit more from you. “Ah-!” You gasped as he gripped your hips in both hands, then dragged you down the bed until you were at the edge.

He made no noise as he stood again. You kept the same position as before, your head resting against the cover. His hands never left you they dipped from your hips, pinching and squeezing your behind, before eventually stopping at your twitching cunt.

“Always so ready for me.” He laughed mockingly, spreading your cunts lips with his fingers. He rubbed the area with unusual tenderness, watching as you trembled and leaked for deeper attention. He snorted a laugh, then wasted no time he plunged his lithe fingers inside you. Gasping moans were forced from your lips. Your cunt squelched and seeped with embarrassing lewdness as he sank his fingers in and out of you.

“Jay..” you whined, rocking your hips to meet his movements. He curled his fingers in response, stroking and toying your gummy walls. “Aaa.. please..” you moaned into the sheets. You spread your legs wider, trying to accommodate his thrusting fingers, which caused your position to lower.

His other hand trailed from your behind, smoothing over your hips and then tucking back under your body. He pressed the palm of his hand against your lower stomach, forcing you to keep your ass raised. Whimpering needly you raised your head and looked over your shoulder as best you could, his intense gaze pinned yours almost immediately.

“So disobedient today.” He scowled, moving his hand from your stomach to grasp your hair. He tugged harshly, pulling your head back. “Mngh-!” You cried out weakly at the tugging pain. “Keep your head down.” He ordered, then forced your head back down against the sheets.

“Haa..” you whined, feeling warm frustrated tears prick the corner of your eyes. His fingers never stopped their relentless thrusting into your core, you felt a fiery ache building up inside you. “Please..” you begged, voice slightly muffled.

“You’ll get what you want when I give it to you, doll.” He clicked his tongue and scowled at your disruptive movements. You curled your feet over the edge of the bed and released a hot shaky breath. You knew it was going be a long night of him edging you into utter submission.

JAKE :

Missionary

Jake is a romantic man, and he loves nothing more than to hold you in his arms whilst your making love.

He definitely whispers sweet nothings into your ear and presses soft kisses and delicate bites against your neck while you cling to him desperately.

He’ll eat up every little moan and whine that slips pass your lips with a searing kiss.

Chests pressed firmly together, Jake had you pinned to the bed, your slick cunt stuffed full of his cock. You threw your arms around his shoulders and met his lips in a deep kiss.

Your tongues fought for dominance even though you never win the match. He groaned each time your lips parted, and you whined softly at the separation.

“Jakey..” you panted and raised your legs, wrapping them loosely around the back of his thighs. This granted him easier access to your aching core, his thick cock reaching deep inside you, pulling delighted gasps from your lips.

“Ah-!” You cried out, throwing your head against the plush pillows. His hips smacked against yours, the erotic sound of skin slapping against skin filling the bedroom.

“y/n..” he groaned deeply, one of his hands held your hip whilst the other threaded into your hair allowing him to tilt your head and pull your lips back to his. He greedily swallowed each moan and blissful gasp that escaped you with a primal eagerness.

Your mind soon felt hazy as your breath was truly being stolen from your lungs and the deep ache building in your core was almost ready to burst, eventually he pulled back to allow you to breath.

His thrusts became languid as he committed the sight of you below him to memory. Your eyes hazy with pleasure, lips swollen and parted tantalizingly as you panted below him, trying to catch your breath.

You quivered under him, his teasingly slow pace baiting a needy whine from your throat for him. He groaned hotly at the sound, unable to withhold himself as he dove back in for another all-consuming kiss. Then he finally increased his pace again as he thrust into you quickly, your bodies pressed flush together.

SUNGHOON :

Riding

Since I find Sunghoon to be rather aloof you’ll have to be the one to initiate intimacy most of the time. He’s unsure, so prefers positions where you’re leading.

Particularly likes to watch you as you whine and moan on top of him. Your hands pressed against his firm chest, or maybe entwined with his, as you cutely bounce on his cock.

Will grasp your hips with bruising strength when he’s close, he starts to lose himself to the pleasure and can be unintentionally a little rough. Not that you mind of course~

You moan softly as you sink down onto Sunghoon’s cock. He lay flat on his back on your shared bed, a bright blush coating his cheeks and his lips parted in a silent gasp. You grasp his hands, entwining your fingers together, as you take him entirely.

“Haa..” he moans softly at the feeling, his hands gripping yours back. His flustered blush sinks deeper, travelling down his neck. He looks up at you, his gaze full of heat, as you straddle his hips.

“Mm..” you sigh breathily, tilting your head back slightly as you relish in the full feeling, his cock filling your tight cunt snugly. “Hoon..” you blush as you meet his hot gaze, causing him glance away nervously.

“Sorry..” he mutters sheepishly, as if he shouldn’t have been staring, and drew his bottom lip into his mouth.

“Ah.. no.. Sunghoon..” you trip over your words, your blush brightening at his cuteness. “I want you to keep your gaze on me..” you wet your lips, then pursed them in a small pout.

“O-ok..” He mumbled, his eyes flicking back to you, his cheeks still alight. You gave his hands a comforting squeeze as you rose to you knees, stopping when only the tip of his cock remained inside you.

“Aah..” you both moaned together as you sunk back down and repeated your movements. Drawing him out and then pushing back down, slowly increasing the rhythm each time.

“y/n..” he gasped in pleasure as you rode him, your cunt squeezing him pleasurably and your breasts bouncing at each thrust. He clutched your hands back and thrust up to meet your movements, soon gaining more confidence.

SUNOO :

Prone Bone

(For those of you that don’t know this position, it’s basically missionary but the person underneath faces the bed and not their partner.)

Sunoo is usually portrayed as a cute guy with a ton of aegyo and If I'm being honest. I feel like he's the worst when it comes to sex. He would definitely like any position it's just, he just loves how the position gives him easy access to your slick cunt, he can just thrust his hips down against yours and bury himself deep inside you. I’ve got a massive HC that Sunoo is a breeder, and this is a good position for that.

Sunoo loves to feel your body against his whilst your having sex, he won’t admit it but having you restrained under his weight is a huge turn on.

He’ll cage your head between his arms, his lips pressed against your neck as he marks you as his own because even though everyone knows you’re a couple no one will dare to try and steal you away if you walk around with his love bites decorating your neck. He gets jealous quite easily, so your neck will never be bare.

“O-oh!” you gasped as Sunoo pulled out of you suddenly and flipped you over with ease, your naked chest pushed down against the bed. Your cheek rest on the soft pillow as you tried to watch him from the corner of your hazy, half-lidded eyes.

“S-Sunoo..” you whine his name as he lines the tip of his cock back up with your sloppy cunt. You had both been at it for hours already and you’d lost count of the number of times he’d made you come undone. Your neck stung pleasantly from the multiple hickeys and bite marks he’d decorated you with.

You weren’t even sure how many times he’d cum inside you this evening, you’d long since lost count of that too. Your body ached from all the different positions he’d pushed, bent and held you in. All while telling you how much he wanted to breed you, that he wouldn’t be satisfied until you’d both cum in each new position.

“Haa..” you whined weakly as he sunk back into you. Each time he pulled back his seed leaks passed your messy cunt’s lips, your stomach felt bloated from how much he’d filled you up already. “Sunoo..” you couldn’t even string a sentence together; your mind was numb with pleasure.

“This morning..” He groaned hotly and pressed his body down against your back, pinning you to the sheets. His arms were braced either side of the pillow as he made sure he wasn’t crushing you under his weight. “I didn’t want to leave the bed, I wanted to abandon all my duties..” He smack his hips down against yours, immediately setting a deepb, slow pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day.. thinking about all the different ways I would breed you..” he moaned unashamedly, his lips pressed up against your ear and he spilled his dirty thoughts to you.

“Ah-!” You cried out as he gave one harsh, deep thrust that buried the tip of his cock against your cervix. “Sunoo..” you gasped, pressing your forehead against the pillow as he stopped thrusting and remained buried inside you.

“Mmn.. more.. ” You whimpered while wriggling your hips against his to try encourage him to move again.

“Fuck.. y/n..” he groaned hotly, you're begging and moaning of his name had his cock pulsing for you. His hands fisted the bed sheets, his weight felt lighter on your back as he started fucking into you quicker.

“Sunoo..” you panted heavily; your bulging stomach was being pressed against the bed. “Haa..” you moaned softly and chewed your bottom lip; you wondered if it would just come gushing out when he was done.

JUNGWON :

Spooning

He’s got easy access to your neck, so get ready for plenty of kisses and love bites. Plus those tantalising lips can whisper sweet nothings into your ear as he slowly fucks between your thighs.

I’m rolling with the idea, get ready to try and be quiet as he teases you relentlessly in a room full of sleeping band mates~ you’ll have to bite your lip quite hard to hold back the moans he’ll tempt from your lips.

“W-Won’..” you whisper softly, your bottom lip drawn between your teeth, your eyes screwed shut. “We-.. we can’t..” your voice was barely audible as you try and keep your delicate moans from escaping passed your lips. You quiver in his gentle hold as he embraces you from behind, spooning you in your shared bunk in the room.

“We never get any time alone in the dorm..” he sighed softly, his warm breath tickling the back of your neck. His hands were tucked under your top, his smooth palms cupping your breasts as he rolled your perked nipples between his fingers. “And I'm sick of quickies..” his silvery voice sent heat flooding to your core, your entire face heating up.

“B-but..” you shudder as he trails one hand down your stomach, slipping into your trousers and into your panties. “Mmn-!” You chomp down on your lip to muffle your gasps as his fingers circle your opening.

“Shh, y/n..” he whispers into your ear, his teeth grazing the tender cartilage. He chuckled quietly as you whine, his fingers parting your folds and sinking into your dripping wet cunt. You continue to bite your lip, holding in your moans as he pumps and scissors his fingers in you, your hips following his lead.

You’d been craving him too and you really did have no private time in the dorm, or anywhere for that matter. Your drenched cunt gave away just how much you desired him. You bit your lip and decided the risk was more than worth it, all you wanted right now was your lovers cock stuffed inside you.

“Y-you..” you stammer quietly, his other hand still playing with your breast. He grins against your ear, biting it and causing you to jolt as it sends sparks down your body. “A-ah..” a weak moan escapes you as he continues to tease you all over.

“You’ll wake them up..” he warns you as he trails his lips down the side of your face, ignoring your lips and resting in your neck. He sucks your sensitive skin, drawing back only to return to the same spot and nip the area.

“Mmn!” You cry out, then freeze in place. A sleepy murmur from someone else in the room sets your heart racing. Your body shakes in Jungwon’s hold, yet he continues his advances as pulls his soaked fingers out of your cunt and pushes your panties down to your knees.

“W-Won’..” you whine his name, you couldn’t stand his teasing anymore. “M-more..” you whisper, shaking your hips back against his bulge. He inhales sharply, then releases a gentle laugh. While he tugs down his own boxers, freeing himself and lining his cock up with your seeping cunt from behind, he finally releases your breast and holds his hand in front of your mouth.

“Suck.” He whispered hotly and you do just that, taking his first two fingers into your mouth as he holds your face still. He sinks into you little by little then drags his hips back, only to thrusts back into you slowly again, drawing out each and every thrust into your aching cunt.

“Mmph..” you moan around his fingers. His free hand tucks around your body and returns to your cunt, easily finding your clit. Your orgasm was building too quickly, the coil in your stomach almost ready to burst. You knew he wouldn’t want to end this so quickly, so you were most certainly in for an incredibly long and torturous night at the hands of your teasing lover.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[11:57 am]

(cw: f!reader, profanity, mentions of sex and other heated scenarios, spin off of this)

Realistically, the last thing you'd expected from a Halloween make out with your best friend, fratboy!Haechan, was a friends with benefits situation. Especially after you both confessed your feelings for each other. You didn't feel like you should be the one to initiate the conversation about being official either. Like, hello?! You'd been the one to start the actual physical intimacy! You weren't the type of girl to go around and make out with just anyone!

You figured you were at least a little bit, the very slightest bit, also guilty for how long this... arrangement was going on. Could you really help it when he was just so eager to be affectionate? You were weak to his whining and begging. Your excuses for coming over to play video games or study weren't even actually believable anymore. Really, it was more like you were trying to convince yourself.

And that was the reason today. When you'd ducked upstairs without so much as a "hi" sent to the guys that were downstairs. An hour later when you both emerged from his room with swollen lips, wrinkled clothes, and messy hair, it became very obvious that no studying was going on at all.

Not that any of the guys ever believed it anyway. Sure, there was no shame behind closed doors. They guys know there's no shame. At all. You two passionate freaks are never quiet. Never. Even in front of them, Haechan never shies away from incessantly flirting or kissing you. So yeah, those excuses are really just for you.

Now though, you're leaned against the kitchen island, snacking on some chips and sipping on water after a very long and heated session of... whatever it was that happened in Haechan's room. To be honest, the second his lips touched your own, your brain melted and your sole purpose became to follow wherever he led you.

He was glued to your back, body pressed closely against your own as he slumped against you and blinked slowly, opening his mouth for you to feed him with a soft, "ahh" right in your ear when he wanted more. When his mouth wasn't busy with chewing, he was pressing soft, wet kisses on the side of your neck shamelessly.

"What the hell is going on in here?" You hear someone ask.

Slowly, probably because your mind isn't working to its full ability yet, you turn your head to find Johnny standing in the doorway with a look of disgust. You pop another chip between your lips before very casually asking, "we're snacking. Do you want some?"

"Yeah, he's snacking on your neck right now. I'm so confused right now," Johnny sighs with a shake of his head. He walks over to the fridge and gets himself his own water before leaning on the opposite end of the counter with a scrutinous gaze. He shakes a pointed finger between you and Haechan, "so what is this?"

Haechan gently sinks his teeth into the slope of your shoulder to draw a shiver from you before pulling away with an annoyed sigh, "bro, can my smoking hot girlfriend and I get some peace or are you going to stand there and judge like a freak?"

Your brain finally starts to catch up right then and it shows on your face as your brows furrow with confusion, "I'm not your girlfriend."

Haechan freezes, turning your body so you can meet his confused gaze. "Uhhh yes you are, that's why we just had sex in my room," Haechan points out.

"You never asked me to be your girlfriend!" You argue.

"So what happened on Halloween when we made out in my room? I told you I liked you and had a crush on you since I first saw you so what the hell was that to you then?"

"That was you telling me you liked me and me showing you I liked you too, but you have never asked me to be your girlfriend!"

"Was that not implied?! We literally make out, we have sex, we go on dates. I send you pictures of be in the shower-"

Johnny chokes on his water, "oh, gross dude."

Haechan's scream of, "why are you still here?" overlaps your voice as you explain, "he sends me selfies of his shampoo mohawk."

Johnny can only laugh to himself as he leaves the kitchen. Haechan is left to cup your cheeks with a grip that expresses his absolute desperation, "are you doing this with other people? Please say no."

"No!" you exclaim, "are you?"

"I thought you were my girlfriend, I'm not a cheater, so no. I'm not doing what we do with anyone else," Haechan tells you exasperatedly.

"So in your head, we've been dating for like two months now?" You ask, leaning into his hold to rest your head against his chest.

"Well, no, in my head we've been dating since we first met. I've been telling everyone that we've been dating for two months, yeah," you feel him nod.

"Are you going to ask me now then?" you drawl out, looking up at him to meet his eyes.

He groans playfully before leaning down so his forehead is pressed against yours, "will you be my girlfriend?"

"Yes!" You exclaim excitedly.

"Even though you basically already were. Geez, woman, you're a spoiled girl."

[mssorceressupreme]

Moth to a Flame | F.W

———

Pairing: Weasley twins x reader

Summary: You’re two-timing the Weasley twins, and it all goes well. Until one day, they decide you need to be punished for this.

Warnings: 16+ minors DNI, smut, fingering, blowjob, masturbation, orgasm, praise kink, dom male, switch female, hickeys, kissing, two-timing

A/N: ik Hogwarts doesn’t have any phones but let’s just assume they do here lol also I was kinda inspired by the song Moth to a Flame by the Weeknd so yeah 😅 PLZ excuse the smut I don’t write too much smut so not that experienced with it

———

The morning light streamed softly through the curtains, casting golden rays over George’s peaceful face. His ginger hair was tousled, his expression serene, as he lay beside you in his bed.

You watched him for a moment, the rise and fall of his chest almost hypnotic. He looked beautiful like this, vulnerable, calm, utterly unaware. His dorm mates were also fast asleep, you were glad that you managed to draw no attention to yourself so far.

Carefully, you reached for your phone on the nightstand, the faint glow illuminating a new message.

Fred: Can’t wait to see you later love. Study session at library after lunch? ❤️

Your breath caught, guilt settling like a stone in your chest. You glanced back at George, still sound asleep, oblivious to the chaos you were carrying. Quickly, you replied to Fred then turned off your phone.

You: Sounds perfect, see u then 🫶🏼

The twins didn’t share a dorm, thank Merlin, which made slipping between their rooms seamless. Spending the night with either was simple enough, as long as neither suspected the truth.

Slipping out of bed, you kissed George softly on the forehead, his lips twitching into a sleepy smile. Grabbing a piece of parchment, you scribbled a note:

“Went to breakfast with Hermione. See you later, handsome x”

You left the note on his nightstand before tiptoeing out of the room.

———

In the Great Hall, Hermione sat waiting, her arms crossed and her expression laced with disapproval.

“You’re playing with fire, Y/N,” she said the moment you slid onto the bench beside her. As she was the person you trusted the most, Hermione was the only person who knew about you two-timing the twins. Well, it started off as an innocent mistake but who knew this knot would get so messy.

You groaned, helping yourself to some toast. “Don’t start, ‘Mione.”

“You’ve got to tell them. This…whatever this is…it’s cruel. You can’t keep dating them both.” She whisper-yelled, leaning closer to you, and making this conversation was as quiet as it could be.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen!” You counter, glancing around to ensure no one overheard. “I…I didn’t know how to say no to either of them, and now, I love them both. I couldn’t just reject one of them, they’re my best friends!”

Hermione raised a skeptical brow, “You can’t keep this up. It’s going to blow up in your face.” "But the thing is, I told the each of them I wanted a private relationship, to keep it solely between me and each twin, and they agreed, so I'm certain the twins don't know I'm two-timing them." Hermione stared blankly, "And what happens if there's an event that you need to attend as their "girlfriend" and they both need you, what then? A duplicating spell?"

You exhaled, taking a large bite of your toast.

“Look, I’m worried about you Y/N. It won’t just hurt them, but yourself too. This could take a toll on your metal health, keeping up with two relationships sounds exhausting.” She placed a hand on your back.

“I’ll tell one of them,” you mumbled, biting your lip. “Eventually…when the time is right.”

Hermione sighed, shaking her head. “The ‘right time’ doesn’t exist for this. The longer you wait, you’ll only dig yourself deeper.”

You nodded slowly, concurring. She gave you a soft smile, “But honestly, you do look good with both of them. You’ll make a fine couple with whoever you end up with.” She giggled, before the both of you continued eating then changing the subject.

———

Later that afternoon, you found yourself tucked away in a quiet corner of the library with Fred. Books lay open between you, though neither of you had made much progress. His hand rested on your knee under the table, his warm touch making your mind foggy and filled with inappropriate thoughts, too inappropriate to be having this early in the day.

He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "You’re awfully distracted today, love." He began planting peppered kisses on your neck, sucking on a particular sensitive spot you had, you bit your lip holding back a moan.

"Just tired, I guess." You managed to croak out, once he stopped and picked up his quill to continue studying.

Fred’s eyes then searched yours, and he tilted his head. "Where were you this morning? I stopped by your dorm, but you weren’t there."

Your heart skipped a beat. "Oh, I woke up early," you lied, keeping your voice steady. "Thought I’d get a head start on studying."

Fred frowned slightly, but before he could press further, George appeared. He dropped into the seat across from you, flashing his lopsided grin.

"Fancy seeing you two here," he said, his eyes lingering on you just a moment too long before unpacking his notes. "Couldn't find a spot in the library for ages, it’s like everybody's suddenly interested in studying today."

Your stomach twisted into knots. Sitting between them felt like balancing on the edge of a knife, the tension suffocating. It never felt this way before, but now that you were essentially dating both of them, you constantly felt wary.

"Yeah we're lucky we even managed to find a table." Fred replied, before the twins carried on studying. As you were reading your textbook, Fred placed his hand on your thigh again, inching his hand further up your thigh with each paragraph you read. The words were becoming blurry, none of the text registering, you mentally cursed, knowing you'd have to revisit these pages again. Your breathing became heavier as he stopped at your entrance. Wearing a skirt granted him easy access to your undies; he teased your folds over your undergarment, slowly stroking with two fingers. You could feel yourself getting wetter by the second, desperate for him to just plunge inside you. You glanced at George, who appeared to be immersed in taking notes, looking back and forth between his parchment and the Potions textbook. You then turned to Fred, who, to your surprise, was poker-faced, reading through some study notes. Fred smirked to himself, his fingers making their way through your undies and coming into contact with your folds. You inhaled sharply, looking at him but he carried on reading. He rubbed circles around your clit, your eyes fluttered, back arching involuntarily, but you played it off as stretching. Without warning, he plunged two fingers into you, pumping slowly and then picking up the pace gradually.

You grabbed his thigh for support, squeezing it slightly. It took everything in your power to not moan, especially because George was sitting opposite you, and the library was quiet. Did I mention quiet?! Dead silent. "Yes!" You thought aloud then hummed, you needed to vocalise something, to let loose. You could feel yourself getting close, but you did not want to come in a library so for the sake of your dignity, so you slowly pushed Fred's hand away. Fred stopped, turning to face you, so did George. "Finally understand this paragraph!" You toned it down, laughing slightly to play it off. A few moments later George's leg started brushing against yours, stroking your leg with his from under the table. Again, you felt yourself melting at his touch, wanting more. You made eye contact with him and bit your lip, but shook your head forcing yourself to stop. Thank Merlin this table was huge, you could barely see what was happening underneath, making it easy to camouflage your actions. You froze when you came into sudden contact with both of them at the same time. Fred's hand back on your thigh, and George's leg interlocking with yours.

Taking on one of them was easy, especially with the other distracted. However, both at the same time? You can bid yourself farewell. You stammered something about needing to check a book and practically fled the table, leaving Fred and George behind. “Um yeah, I’ll catch you guys later!…” you mumbled before scurrying out the library. Not once turning around to look at them, you mentally slapped yourself for being so hasty. ———

You found Hermione and Ginny in the courtyard, their chatter a welcome distraction. Ginny was practically bouncing with excitement as she shared news of a party in the Ravenclaw common room that evening.

"You’re coming, right? Luna said she'd love to have us there." Ginny asked, nudging you playfully.

You hesitated, then nodded. "Sure. Why not?"

You needed a distraction. And this was definitely it.

———

The party was everything you needed, loud, lively, and carefree. Harry, Ron, Neville, and a bunch of students from every house were there too. Music pulsed through the room, and laughter echoed over the clinking of butterbeer bottles. You found yourself relaxing as you chatted with Luna, Cho, Hermione, and Ginny, letting the chaos around you drown out your worries.

Until you received a note.

"Meet me in the 7th year study room upstairs – your fav Weasley ;)"

You laughed softly, folding the parchment. Of course, it had to be Fred. Or was it George? The handwriting wasn’t distinct enough to tell.

Excusing yourself, you made your way to the Ravenclaw study room for 7th years, as the twins were 7th years you supposed they were allowed in those study rooms. The door creaked as you pushed it open, and your heart skipped a beat when you stepped inside.

Your eyes went wide, you momentarily froze, eyes darting back and forth from the two figures seated in front of you.

Both Fred and George were there. George was seated casually on the edge of the table with his arms folded, and Fred leaned back on one of the couches, manspreading. Their identical grins stretched wide, their eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Y/N," George drawled, standing and walking toward you. "We’ve been waiting for you."

Panic set in as the pieces clicked. "I uh-... I should go," you stammered, turning to leave, but George was quicker, his hand catching your wrist.

"Not so fast," he murmured, his voice low.

"You’ve been naughty," Fred added, standing now, his gaze fixed on you.

Your stomach churned. "What are you talking about?"

Fred chuckled, stepping closer. "Don’t play coy, love. Two-timing us? Did you really think we wouldn’t figure it out?"

They both now towered over you, George shut the door behind you and you gulped, your only opportunity to exit, gone.

"I..." Words failed you as Fred cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin.

"You’ve got us all tangled up, Y/N," George said, his voice softer now as he moved to stand beside his twin.

Your knees felt weak as George leaned in, brushing his lips against your temple.

"We should be angry," Fred whispered, tilting your face up to meet his gaze.

"But we’re not," George finished.

They both smiled, their warmth almost overwhelming.

"Because we love you," Fred said.

"And we’ll share, if that’s what it takes to keep you," George added.

Before you could respond, Fred’s lips captured yours in a heated kiss, George’s hand resting gently on your waist.

Your heart raced as their affection enveloped you, leaving you breathless and utterly lost between them.

“But we’re not going to let you off that easily…” George spoke.

Fred pulled away from the kiss, which left you slightly disappointed, “…You need to be punished.” He finished George’s sentence.

“What? How? Please—guys, this isn’t necessary. I was going to come clean I swear-” You pleaded but George interjected,

“Relax, we’re not going to hurt you love. Just, follow our lead.” George found you amusing, all flustered, like a prey about to get eaten by its predator.

George walked behind you, while Fred stood in front, pressing his body against yours.

Your core began to heat up, feeling a rush of adrenaline as the two boys were mere inches away from you.

George began kissing your neck, sucking on your sensitive spot but with extra pressure, leaving love bites. “Mhm, George…” you moan, tilting your head back as you grab hold of his neck behind you.

Fred massaged your breasts sensually, his hands roaming every inch of you then slid down your body, slowly making his way to your core.

“Wearing a short skirt to the party tonight eh? Who are you trying to look good for hm?” Fred teased, as he began massaging your throbbing core. You felt yourself getting wetter by the second, craving more of both their touch.

You were too lost in pleasure to respond, head thrown back while George continued kissing your neck, making his way up to your jaw.

“Answer me.” Fred demanded, before forcefully shoving two fingers inside your entrance which earned a unholy groan from you.

“You-...both of you.” Your breathy responses and subtle twitching resulted in a satisfied hum from Fred, he continued pumping his fingers in you, which were now coated because of how wet you were.

“Don’t stop Fred, please.” You moaned, as he picked up the pace, pumping faster.

You could feel yourself getting closer, your climax mere seconds away.

“You feel so good around my fingers, so tight for me love.”

“Fred…” you hummed, moaning again. “I’m getting close, please, I’m so close.”

Eager to make you come, he continued pumping, “That’s it come for me. Come around my finger.” Fred cooing into your ear was your tipping point, sending you over the edge and finally you were done. Your walls clenched with arousal as you reached your climax, a cloud of ecstasy and pleasure washed over you as you groaned.

Fred removed his fingers from you and George stopped, both of them now moving to stand in front of you. You felt all to powerful, the two twins at your mercy now.

The twins looked at you, smirking. As though you read their mind, you spoke, “Alright alright, now it’s your turn I suppose.” Your shirt was tight and revealed your cleavage, you smirked to yourself as you bent down, exposing more of your breasts to them.

You saw George shift slightly, adjusting his pants. “You, sit.” You pointed to George. “…And you, watch.” You addressed Fred.

George sat on the couch, and you knelt in front of him, unbuckling his pants, exposing his length, which was now fully hard and dripping with pre-cum.

Fred leaned against the table, stroking himself to the sight in front of him.

You planted kitten licks on his tip, which earned a low groan from him. Slowly, you slid your tongue down from his tip to his base, doing so a few times to tease him.

“Merlin, Y/N…” George threw his head back, breathing heavily.

You then took him, slowly bopping your head up and down his length, you glanced at Fred who was busy pleasuring himself, and made eye contact with him as you sucked George off.

Fred groaned at your eye contact, “Bloody hell Y/N when you look at me like that…” You swear you could hear him mutter your name under his breath a few times while he continued pumping his length but you brushed it off.

Satisfied, you hummed looking back at George, gazing up at him, his eyes were half-lidded, lost in pleasure but he managed to gaze down at you, while he guided your head.

“Faster…” you bopped your head faster. Your neck was hurting slightly from how fast and hard his dick was hitting the back of your throat but at the same time, it felt too good to stop. You wanted to be the reason he was moaning under your touch.

“Fuck you feel so good, your mouth looks so pretty around me.” George moaned, and you felt a rush down to tour core, being praised like this gave you all the more motivation to continue.

You began sucking harder and faster, and George bucked his hips, “Shit I’m getting close, I’m gonna-…”

George let out a loud moan, “Fuck.” He grunted, releasing down your throat. You swallowed the warm liquid and he gently wiped your mouth while you looked at him.

Fred finished seconds later, “Bloody hell…” he muttered.

You sat down, collapsing on the floor, underestimating how much energy this would take from you.

Fred smiled warmly, walking over to you and picking you up bridal style, “Is my Y/N tired?”

He gently placed you on the couch next to George, then brushed out a few strands of hair from your face.

“Let us take care of you now. We’ll take you up to your room yeah?” George hummed softly before placing a kiss on your forehead.

[bjlipss]

— bug, part v.

contents: college!sukuna x weird!reader. weird as in just odd and confusing behaviour but nonetheless cute, nothing pervy-weird. reader wears glasses because yes. really awkward and silly hehe. also there is a use of “girlfriend” in here so ig fem reader should be mentioned.

part iv <- part v -> part vi

you are both in the library.

not because either of you are studying. not really.

you’re curled up in one of the weird, saggy armchairs near the back—hoodie too big, socked feet tucked under you, notebook propped awkwardly on your knees. you’re not even pretending to do anything academic. your textbook’s open on the table beside you, forgotten, while you scribble doodles into the margins of your notes like it’s a commissioned masterpiece.

there’s a frog with a sword. a duck in sunglasses. something that might be a hedgehog in a cape.

you’re also humming. low and wandering. not a tune he recognizes, and maybe you don’t either—you keep shifting the melody halfway through, then giggling softly to yourself like your brain changed channels mid-song.

sukuna’s sitting across from you, textbook cracked open on his lap, posture loose and lazy like he’s got all the time in the world. and technically, he does. he’s already skimmed the chapter. already skimmed the quiz. already skimmed three possible excuses to ditch group work next week.

but he’s not looking at the page.

he’s watching you.

he doesn’t even realize it at first—how long he’s been staring. how quiet he’s gotten.

your hair’s a mess. your glasses keep slipping down your nose. you’ve chewed halfway through your pen cap, and your shoelaces are still untied from this morning. and you’re not even trying to be quiet—just softly off in your own world, like it never occurs to you to shrink yourself down.

and somehow, he doesn’t want you to.

he glances down at his notes. blinks. tries to focus.

then looks at you again.

you’re drawing something new now. a little bat with cartoonishly huge eyes and a speech bubble that says “i crave blood and validation.”

his lips twitch before he can stop them.

you notice.

your gaze flicks up—quick, sharp. “what?”

his mouth opens.

and then he says, too fast, “you wanna come to my game?”

you blink.

“…what game?”

he clears his throat. suddenly, very interested in the pattern of the wood grain on the table.

“basketball. tomorrow night. we’re playing against southfield.”

you tilt your head, curious. “are they the ones with the scary mascot?”

“…it’s a goose.”

“yeah. terrifying.”

he huffs a laugh, soft and embarrassed. rubs the back of his neck. “you don’t have to or whatever. i just—figured you’d like it. it gets loud. chaotic. you like loud shit.”

you grin.

“okay.”

he blinks. “yeah?”

you nod. “i’ll bring a sign. and confetti. maybe a kazoo.”

he groans, dragging a hand down his face. “jesus. please don’t bring a kazoo.”

you lean forward, eyes bright. “you can’t stop me.”

he rolls his eyes, fighting a smile, and you go back to your doodles like he didn’t just invite you into his world a little bit. like it’s easy. like it means something.

—

the gym is packed. humid and echoey and full of noise.

the bleachers are overflowing. the ref’s whistle shrieks every two minutes. the other team’s fans are booing already, and someone spilled nachos on the court.

and you’re there.

front row. bouncing in your seat. wearing his hoodie—his actual hoodie, which he only lent you as a joke and immediately regretted because you looked so stupidly happy to wear it.

you wave when you see him jog out with his team, hands cupped around your mouth.

“GO SUKUNA! BREAK THEIR LEGS! OR RULES! OR BOTH!”

he snorts. tries not to smile. fails.

his teammates elbow him, whisper stuff, smirk, but he doesn’t care. not when you’re waving that crooked sign you made with sparkly markers and duct tape that says “#1 BASKETBALL MENACE” with what appears to be a drawing of him dunking a goose.

the game itself is rough. fast. brutal.

southfield’s team is good—long-legged and sharp-elbowed and fast on the rebounds—but sukuna’s better. faster. meaner. he scores three baskets in the second half alone. when he shoves past their point guard to land the final shot, the whole gym explodes.

they win by four points.

the whistle blows.

the crowd surges to its feet.

and then—before he can even breathe—you’re there.

you leap over the bleachers like it’s a war zone, stumbling slightly but recovering fast, and run straight to him across the court, absolutely beaming.

“THAT WAS AMAZING,” you shout, grabbing his arm with both hands. “you did that spinny jump thing! and then the swoosh! and then you yelled at the ref—oh my god, that was so hot—”

he blinks down at you, flushed and sweaty and grinning so wide his face might crack.

“you don’t know anything about basketball,” he points out, a little breathless.

you shake your head violently. “nope! not a clue!”

“you just called a layup a ‘spinny jump thing.’”

“yeah! and it was the coolest shit i’ve ever seen!”

he laughs. actually laughs. the sound cracks right out of him—bright and sharp and real. and you’re still holding his arm, squeezing it like it’s the only thing anchoring you.

he hesitates.

then says, quiet, “you wanna come over later?”

you blink. “like. to your dorm?”

“i can… tell you about the game. the rules. what the spinny jump thing’s actually called.”

you light up like he just offered you front-row seats to the moon.

“yes. absolutely. teach me all the ball lore.”

he snorts. “never say that again.”

“no promises.”

and then you’re walking beside him through the crowd, still rambling, still glowing, and he can’t help it—his hand reaches up, gentle and automatic, to push your glasses up your nose where they’ve slid halfway down again.

you blink, startled.

then beam at him.

and he reaches up again—this time to ruffle your hair, fingers combing through the mess like it’s something he’s allowed to touch.

you lean into it without thinking.

and somewhere in the blur of noise and sweat and laughter, he realizes:

you’re his favorite win tonight.

—

his dorm isn’t as much of a mess as you expected.

a little cluttered, yeah—hoodies draped over his desk chair, empty water bottles on the windowsill, a pair of sneakers half-kicked under the bed—but it smells clean. woodsy. like laundry detergent and something sharp underneath that’s just him.

you step inside, slow and curious, still holding the bag of vending machine snacks he insisted you didn’t need to bring.

“so this is the lair of the basketball menace,” you hum, peeking at his bookshelf. “i expected more… chaos. broken trophies. claw marks on the wall.”

he snorts, toeing the door shut behind you. “those are in my evil backup dorm.”

“ah. the one in hell.”

he chuckles, shaking his head, and crosses the room to yank a hoodie off his desk chair and toss it onto his bed. you settle into the chair without waiting for permission, crossing your legs and tearing open a packet of sour candy.

he raises an eyebrow. “that’s my chair.”

you grin. “i’m your guest. this is diplomacy.”

he doesn’t argue—just walks over and sits on the bed instead, close enough that your knees brush against his when he leans forward to grab a bottle of water.

“so,” you say, mouth full of sugar, “tell me the basketball secrets. what was that thing where you jumped like a frog and then spun like a gremlin and then landed like a swan?”

he stares at you.

“…a layup.”

“bless you.”

he huffs a laugh, dropping his head into his hands for a second like he needs to gather strength. “okay. alright. lesson one: do not describe sports like they’re cryptid mating rituals.”

“but that’s my only frame of reference.”

he throws a piece of candy at you. you catch it in your mouth with a triumphant squeak.

“focus,” he says, pointing a finger at you. “basketball. it’s about coordination. spacing. control. and momentum. you don’t just run around like an idiot trying to get the ball in.”

you tilt your head. “so it’s like murder chess. but fast.”

“jesus christ.”

“you’re doing great.”

he glares. but it’s a soft glare, the kind he aims at you more often now. like he’s not really mad. like he doesn’t know how to be.

he shifts on the bed, legs stretching out a little, one knee knocking gently against yours again.

you don’t move away.

“okay,” he says, quieter this time. “you saw when i blocked that guy at the end, right? that’s called a charge. you plant your feet, and if they run into you, it’s a foul on them.”

“ohh,” you nod, thoughtful. “so you baited him.”

“kind of.”

“like psychological warfare.”

he sighs. “sure.”

“can you teach me that?”

he looks up. “what?”

“the foot thing. the standing-your-ground move.” you gesture vaguely with your half-empty candy bag. “i’d like to charge people in my life. for crimes.”

“you’d fall over.”

“not if you believe in me.”

he laughs again—more like a puff of breath this time, shaking his head like he’s trying to hide how fond it sounds.

“i’ll teach you,” he mutters.

you beam.

for a moment, the room goes quiet—soft and buzzing and still. the lights are dim. the windows cracked open. your socked foot nudges against his again, deliberate this time, and he doesn’t pull away.

he watches you—really watches you. the way your glasses have slid halfway down your nose again. the way your hoodie sleeves have swallowed your hands. the way your smile hasn’t left since the moment you walked in.

“you’re happy,” he says quietly.

you blink. glance up at him. “of course i’m happy.”

“…why?”

you look at him like it’s obvious.

“because you invited me.”

he opens his mouth. closes it.

because he’s not used to that answer.

not used to people being happy just to be where he is. not without expecting something back. not without reading into it. not without laughing or pushing or prying.

you twist around in the chair a little, knee brushing his again, closer this time. “also, i got to yell about your legs in public, so. that was cathartic.”

he groans.

you laugh.

and then—softly, almost like you don’t realize you’re doing it—you reach forward. one hand, hesitant, rising to brush at his forehead, where it’s still a little damp with cool sweat. your fingers graze his temple.

“you’re sweaty,” you murmur, nose wrinkling.

he raises an eyebrow. “you ran to me.”

“yeah, because you were dazzling. like a sports anime protagonist.”

he laughs, quiet and helpless.

and then he reaches out, just as softly, and pushes your glasses up again where they’ve started to slip.

your breath catches.

and his hand lingers—just for a second—his thumb brushing the curve of your cheek.

then he pulls away.

you don’t say anything.

you just smile again—smaller this time, softer. and then you fold yourself into the chair, arms wrapped around your knees, and mumble, “i like it here.”

he leans back on his palms, still watching you. cute, his mind screams, as you spin around like a little kid.

—

it starts normal.

as normal as anything gets with you, anyway.

you’re flopped sideways on his bed like you live there, half under his blanket even though you insisted you weren’t cold. the game’s playing on his laptop, volume low, light flickering against the walls. he’s sitting beside you, legs on the floor, back to the edge of the mattress, trying to explain what a pick and roll is without dying of secondhand embarrassment.

you are, predictably, not paying attention.

“what if,” you murmur, chewing on a piece of candy you found in your pocket, “instead of doing basketball, they just kissed in the middle of the court?”

he doesn’t turn around. “they’d get fouled.”

“for passion?”

“for being weird.”

“bold of you to assume that wouldn’t raise morale.”

he sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face.

and then your fingers find his hair.

slow. absent. like you didn’t mean to. like your hand just drifted down from the blanket and landed there, right against the back of his head, where his hair’s still a little messy from earlier.

you comb your fingers through it once. twice.

and then you go still.

he does, too.

his mouth goes dry. his heartbeat spikes.

you’ve touched him before—high fives, shoulder bumps, the flower behind the ear thing, even his hair a bit ago—but this is different. slower. deliberate. intimate.

and worse—you don’t move.

“you okay?” he says, voice too low, too tight.

“…mhm.”

he swears he can hear your smile.

and then, as if that wasn’t enough, you shift. twist around. and lean into him from behind—your chin resting right at the curve of his shoulder, your weight warm against his back, like you’ve done this a hundred times before.

he straightens like he’s been electrocuted.

you don’t even flinch. just murmur, “comfy,” like that explains it.

his whole body’s locked up. tense. pulsing. his brain’s screaming at him to move, to shake you off, to tell you you’re invading his space and messing with his head and ruining him—but—

but you’re so soft.

and warm.

and he can feel your breath against his neck, feel the weight of you slouched against his back like you trust him enough to fall asleep there.

his hands curl into fists.

“…this is illegal,” he mutters.

“mm?” your voice is all syrup.

“this is a crime.”

you hum, noncommittal. “you’re warm.”

he covers his face with both hands. “you’re going to kill me.”

you don’t answer.

and when he turns, just slightly, he realizes—

you’re already asleep.

your face tucked into the crook of his shoulder. your glasses slipping crookedly down your nose. your breathing slow and steady and peaceful, like you didn’t just turn his entire bloodstream into static and curl up on him like a goddamn cat.

he exhales, long and quiet.

his hands hover awkwardly in the air for a second—unsure, unsteady—and then he reaches up and gently adjusts your glasses, sliding them off and placing them on the nightstand with shaking fingers.

then, hesitantly, he leans back into the bed. just a little. just enough so you’re not tilted.

just enough that you stay.

and he stares at the screen, watching the players run back and forth, hearing the echo of your earlier nonsense—

they should kiss for morale.

—and he lets out a breathless, silent laugh.

then slowly, very carefully, he lets his head tilt back against yours.

—

you wake up before he does.

not on purpose.

you’re just used to strange hours and uneven sleep, and the light coming in through his blinds is warm and gold and soft on your face. you shift a little, nose scrunching, and when you register the steady, heavy rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek, you freeze.

oh.

you’re still curled up on him.

very much wrapped around him.

very much drooling on the shoulder of his hoodie.

you lift your head slowly, blinking blearily. his arms are crossed over his chest, his jaw tilted slightly to the side, his brows a little furrowed even in sleep. like he’s suspicious in his dreams. his hair’s messy again, spiked worse than yesterday, one piece sticking up at an impossible angle.

he looks unfairly good.

annoying.

you shift again, trying not to wake him, and nearly fall backwards off the bed.

his hand shoots out, grabs your wrist without opening his eyes.

“don’t,” he mumbles.

you blink.

“…don’t what?”

“fall off and die. s’too early.”

your mouth twitches.

“oh? you care?” you whisper dramatically.

he grunts. doesn’t answer.

you scoot closer again, pressing your cheek back to his chest with a little huff. “you’re grumpy in the morning.”

“you never shut up,” he mutters.

“mm, false,” you say cheerfully. “i’m just excited to be alive.”

he groans.

you go quiet for a minute. a soft kind of quiet, like the hush after a snowstorm. the game on the laptop has long since ended. the blanket’s mostly fallen to the floor. everything feels slow and syrupy and safe.

you poke his arm.

he doesn’t react.

you poke it again. harder.

“i know you’re awake,” you sing.

no response.

“sukunaaaaa.”

nothing.

“sukunaaa, do you want to hear about my dream?”

his eyes crack open just enough to glare at you. “if it involves centipedes again, i’m leaving the country.”

you gasp. “how dare— it was butterflies this time, thank you very much. and one of them had your face.”

he blinks at you.

“…what the fuck.”

you grin.

he sighs, long-suffering, but there’s the faintest curl of a smirk at the corner of his mouth. like he’s trying to be annoyed. like he wants to be annoyed. but he can’t, not really. not when you’re looking at him like that. like he hung the sun. like this little morning moment matters.

“…hey,” you murmur, suddenly a little shy. “thanks for letting me stay. i didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.”

he stares at you. your sleep-mussed hair. your socked feet dangling over the side of the bed. the sleepy blush on your cheeks.

he reaches out. flicks you lightly between the eyes.

“you’re annoying,” he says. quiet. fond.

you beam. “you love it.”

he doesn’t answer.

he doesn’t have to.

because a second later, you’re back under the blanket again, leaning into his side like it’s the most natural thing in the world—and he’s letting you, tucking you there with one arm, no complaints, no snide comments.

just soft breathing. and the sound of your heartbeat. and the golden hush of morning.

[storiesfromasmalltown]

YOU WERE ALWAYS ON MY MIND

or

The five times you danced with Michael Robinavitch

f!Reader x Dr. Robby

Warnings: cursing, drinking, bittersweet stuff idk, happy ending, not beta read, reader is Robby’s age, reader has hair and is shorter than him (let me know if I forgot anything!)- reader has also never gotten over anything

No use of Y/N

Best paired with Maisie Peters Elvis Song, Lucy Dacus and Hozier Bullseye, Taylor Swift Holy Ground

1.You met at a party during undergrad, he was all floppy hair and laughter back then- tall and lanky in the way college boys are before they really grow into their own. He was pre-med, you were undecided. Maybe he was the shove you needed to commit to medicine, but that didn’t matter at the time. The party was held in a sticky frat house, full of people and smoke and he fit right in, laughing loudly, playing beer pong and you were in over your head the moment you saw him. It was a cliche meet cute, your eyes met you excused yourself to your friends and made your way to the drinks table. He was cute, you were three drinks in and when he gave you that smile and said you his name is Michael but everyone calls him Robby you couldn’t help the butterflies. 

“Do you dance Michael?”

He raised an eyebrow at the name and extended his arm, long fingers reaching for yours.

“I do with pretty girls who call me by my first name.”

You felt warmth spread around your cheeks and he pulled you into the crowd and didn’t leave your side for the rest of the night. 

You spent the rest of that year studying on his sofa bed in the rented apartment just off campus, sharing chemistry notes and kisses when his roommates were away. He was perfect but you were always a bit of a flight risk and on one of the many nights you spent with his arms around your waist pulling you onto his lap as you sorted through notes you thought 

oh I am in over my head

“What’s on your mind?”

His voice shakes you out of your thoughts, a worn greatest hits Elvis record draws You were always on my mind in the back.

“Nothing hon’, I’m just tired.”

He gave you a look and you leaned to kiss his cheek while your brain screamed that this was never going to work.

2. The second time you danced was at a graduation party, you didn’t really date anyone after him, you applied to med school- even after his name started swimming in front of your eyes whenever you would close them,  but you made your choice- he gave you everything and you left, you had no right to be the hurt one here. 

“Congratulations.”

He must have had a bit to drink but so had you, you turned to face him, there was a strange shadow across his face, one that wasn’t there before you but you closed your eyes and for a second imagined a life where you didn’t walk out of his kitchen on a Sunday morning and never walked back in.

“Do you still dance with pretty girls who call you by your first name?”

He gave you a sad smile, arm reaching to fix the strap of your white dress.

“Only those that broke my heart.”

You turned to walk away but he closed his hand around your shoulder.

“I don’t want to dance with anyone but you tonight, it doesn’t have to mean anything. For old times sake?”

And you both pretended it didn’t break your heart.

“Did you get into med school?”

You felt him nod, he rested his head on top of yours for a second, it was a slow dance, friends and lovers swaying to the same fucking Elvis song again.

“Yeah, you?”

You nodded into his shoulder, a tear escaping you. He would haunt you for the rest of your life.

3. You hated fundraising galas, but you were a star pediatric resident for the Philadelphia hospital you matched into. You thought working your ass off would be enough but you guess you had to be paraded around as a show pony too. Your dress felt uncomfortable, it looked stunning but you were hyper aware of every stitch that touched your body. You held a glass of white wine in hand, it had gone warm but it felt good to hold something. The networking and chatting part of the night passed by and people were sitting and talking or swaying on the romantically lit dance floor- not that it made any sense to you why a dance floor for a fundraising gala would have romantic lighting but you assumed it softened people. You scanned the crowd for the familiar face you caught a glimpse of earlier. His shoulders looked broader, he had a few laugh lines etched into his face. His once soft clean shaven face had a neat beard on it and his floppy hair was cropped shorter, but it was him, you couldn’t forget those eyes if you tried. You saw him when he entered, a man with short curls came in with him, they were deep in conversation and you slipped out for air, because the what-if’s didn’t rest. You couldn’t leave while the chatting up was happening and now you really itched to get away but your friend was flirting with a woman at the bar and you had come in together. 

“You always looked good in black.”

He materialised by your side, hands in the pockets of his slacks, doing that thing where he tries to make his impossibly tall body shrink.

“Thank you Michael.”

He offered a smile and you offered a compliment in return.

“You should stand up straighter, your posture is fucked.”

“Well that's what the ED will do to you-”

“You specialised in emergency medicine?”

He nodded his head, shy and proud, blushing again at the way you looked at him with eyes full of pride. Like he forgot you broke his heart into a million pieces.

“You?”

“I’m in pedes.”

“Do you want to dance doctor?”

“I would love to.”

And something cracks a bit more on that dance floor, he moves you around it and the small talk feels like its mapping out the ocean wide divide between who you used to be and who you are now. The dance ends and you kiss his cheek and leave without saying anything else, picking up pace- your friend finds you crying in the bathroom and you tell her how much you missed him every day for the past 8 years and she doesn’t understand why you can’t go back.

4.  You’re at a wedding, not yours- even your mother gave up on that once your turned 45, but the first one since you moved to Pittsburgh. You check your phone wondering if it is too early to leave, maybe you can take up a shift at the hospital, get into the groove a bit more. The pediatrics attending position you got an offer from the board of the PTMC was too good to refuse, until you attended a meeting and found yourself sitting across from a familiar face. 

He came in late, black scrub top, navy blue hoodie, salt and pepper beard and a face that felt like a map of moments you had missed. He looked tired, depleted- like he carried the world on his shoulders.

“This is our new attending for the pediatrics department-”

The administration woman- Gloria, started to introduce you but you zoned out, she didn’t motion for you to stand up and just kept going through what you assumed was her usual repertoire. You busied yourself by writing notes on the legal pad in front of you because if you looked up and saw him there- Dr. Robinavitch, chief attending of the ED, tall and confident and still so warm with the same eyes that used to melt you in your spot.

You heard the chair next to you move and you knew who it was this time, you had stopped trying to fight it.

“Nice to see you have a social life.”

You snorted in your drink.

“Look who’s talking.”

He laughed before replying-

“Well I think I’m still better than Abbot.”

You met Dr. Abbot on a consult and you caught a healthier coping mechanism than whatever Robby had going on.

“One of you goes to therapy and it’s not you.”

“I actually came by to ask you for a dance not for a mental health check.”

You felt brave, for the first time in a long time, like someone who won’t burn it all down out of fear, like a woman who has too many lonely years behind her. So you reached out your hand, steadier and more confident than it was at 20.

“I would love  to dance with you Michael.”

You were on the dancefloor for a while when he whispered in your ear during a slow dance.

“I always liked dancing with pretty girls who call me by my first name.”

“Pretty girl is a bit of a stretch for one who is over 50.”

He pulled away to study your face, the only one he had ever  memorised that way.

“I meant beautiful woman, but I never forgot the pretty girl.”

You took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t run.”

“Don’t interrupt me- I’m sorry I ever did run.”

And that was all you had to say.

5. You were on the fence about getting married at your age, but you found you couldn’t tell him no, not when he had asked nicely in your kitchen. The one you shared in the house you shared, the place you did laundry together, cooked meals, where your shoes mixed by the door, where people came in for a glass of wine after a long day, the garden you had barbecues in, the place you played that same 30 year old Elvis record. 

“Well good morning Dr Robinavitch.”

You laughed at him, voice strained by the morning, hands around your waist, he was fully wrapped around you.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You love me.”

“I do.”

“You know we didn’t dance yesterday-”

“We were in a courthouse.”

“Yeah but I think that I would really love to dance with my wife.”

So you let him spin you around like he had so many times, but instead of mapping the places you missed it was circling the life you finally got to live. Smoothening the cracks you weren’t there to mend the first time.

[bettystonewell]

IF YOU LEAVE

Chapter 1: Pretty in Pink

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Dean Winchester x Reader

In the spring of 1988, Dean meets the girl of his dreams. He just doesn’t know it yet. 2k words

Tags: fluff, angst, young Sam and Dean, slow(ish) burn romance, childhood sweethearts, friends to lovers, 80s, 90s, season three, spans three decades, eventual smut, Rufus - crotchety at any age

@chevroletdean is celebrating 500 followers with a writing challenge! Liane made the beautiful mood-board above for me to work with. You can find more about the Milestone Celebration HERE. I’m gonna try and finish this before the 18th, but consider this chapter my piece for the challenge 😘

Next Chapter

April 1988

The first time Dean saw you was in third grade, Mrs Petersen’s class, but it wasn’t until during recess on the second day that you spoke. Your hair in pigtails, him with dirt on his knees, and a simple exchange over a juice box, because you were yet to learn how to filter.

At that point, as children often do, you didn’t think to ask for each other’s names, and when both boys walked through Bobby’s front door that afternoon, and he asked “How was school? Did you talk t’any other kids today?” He got a smile and a grunt as both boys ran up the stairs to their room.

“That great, huh?” He scratched his forehead under his cap, and went back to the kitchen to continue supper, and the hex bag he was making up for Rufus. The idjit had shown up on his doorstep earlier that day.

“I thought you didn’t have any Rugrats?” Rufus thumbed to the hall he’d come out of. A bottle of Jack in the other.

“I don’t,” Bobby said. But just as Dean didn’t realise the significance of you in his life at the time, Bobby hadn’t realised the boys in his either.

Dinner was simple that night. Bobby wasn’t a chef, but he was determined to give the Winchester boys something normal for once in their young lives. It’s why he’d enrolled them in the local school in the first place. Bought them bags and shoes. New clothes for Sammy because Dean’s hand-me-downs were far too big for the little tyke.

He’d even taken them to a barber, somewhere he never took himself, and signed Dean up for the school lunch program.

Yeah, he was growing soft. Lucky he had Rufus to point out the fact further with his outright stares and grins.

He was just doing a good deed. Looking after the future. Wasn’t that a part of being regular folk? Never mind the lady ringing up his groceries at the supermarket had frowned at him when he didn’t have a valid excuse for why they weren’t at school that day or two days before that.

Balls. That’s what it was. And he’d kick Rufus’ if he were close enough to reach with his boot.

Comments about him getting old, also balls. If Rufus was dumb enough to keep hounding him, he deserved a gun to his sack. Don’t worry ‘bout his steel caps.

He cleared his throat. Took a swig of beer and then settled his eyes on Dean. The kid was a smartass, but he was respectable, and had to open up, eventually. “So, did you learn anything today?” he asked. Tried to force a smile onto his face.

But Dean only shrugged, still defiant he should’ve been out there with his father.

“Well, what about your teacher? What’s her name?” He knew she was a she from the paperwork, Mrs Peters, or something like that. He just didn’t bother to remember in front of Rufus.

It didn’t matter though, because Dean shrugged again and shoveled another bite of meatloaf into his mouth.

Kids.

“My teacher is Miss Reeves,” young Sam piped up. Kid was smart for a four-year-old.

“Yeah? And what’d you do with her?” It’d been a long time since Bobby had graduated high school. Had no idea what kids in preschool did, besides the ABCs, he supposed. “Did you, ah,” he looked at Rufus for guidance, but the idjit had none. “Did you colour…or…sing a song?”

“I used blue, and red, and green for the grass I draws.” Sam beamed.

Okay… “That’s great, kid,” Bobby said.

Rufus downed another shot of Jack. The glass, sharp against the table when he hammered it onto the linoleum top. “Real great.” His tongue clicked. “What about you Dean? You colour, too?”

But when Dean said nothing, “Didn’t think so,” tumbled outta Rufus’ mouth.

“You could’ve given him a chance to answer.”

“Didn’t need to. He’s not gonna. Look at him.” Rufus swiped his hand out in front. His brow raised when Dean opened his mouth, though, and then he looked interested.

“I met a girl,” he said, resorting back to his former slouching when he noticed both men frozen and staring at him.

It was the loudest he’d spoken since living under Bobby’s roof. The first time he’d shown emotion other than attitude, and Bobby couldn’t help but smile. Until he thought harder about the issue.

Did he have to give these kids the bird and the bees talk, too? Hell no, he wasn’t!

His fingers scratched through his beard. That smile of his fell to a thin, pursed line. Bit of teeth spiking through the gap.

“A girl, huh? Like a girlfriend?”

“No!” Dean lost his chin to his neck. “She’s my friend, and she’s a girl.”

Simple. Obvious. Bobby felt the fool. Until he asked the all important question.

“What’s her name?”

What was your name?

Dean couldn’t answer that because he didn’t know. You were a girl, you’d been nice to him, and you didn’t like orange juice. That was the extent of it. You’d played your game after that. The one where he chased you, and you ran, much like what hunters did. Only, you weren’t a monster, and he didn’t hunt.

Not allowed to. Too young to do anything more than babysit Sammy and stay with Uncle Bobby.

He knew they weren’t related.

When he stepped into the classroom the next morning, books in hand, his eyes swept the room. No, he wasn’t interested in the US map, or the globe in the corner. He didn’t care that Mrs Petersen was scribbling sums on the board ready for the day’s lessons or for the tall boy with the extra tires whose farts created a war zone as he walked through the dust cloud.

No. He focused on you. Hair once again in pigtails, hot pink t-shirt and matching nails, which he thought little of because it was all too…girly, but then you smiled at him and his nose tingled as a result.

“Hi Dean,” you even said, and it was all he could do to not smile back as he took his seat in the row behind you and the Bat-signal drawn onto your right heel.

He needed to learn your name.

Of course, to a nine-year-old, “You like Batman?” was far more important. He asked you that when he sat down next to you at lunch that same day. The pale green plastic of his lunch-tray, just fitting in between yours and the boy’s to his left.

Your look of disgust was apparent even from your side profile, and unlike his smile, Dean couldn’t hold back his laughter when you turned. Not only did you spit out the word, “No,” but a sliver of strawberry jello came with it.

You wiped at your chin and poked your tongue out, which made him laugh harder.

“I like Michelangelo more, but my brother says he’s stupid.” Your head and eyes dropped to look under the table. “Didn’t like it when I told him the Ninja Turtles would beat Batman up.”

“Well, Leonardo might,” Dean said, and you frowned. “With his help,” he added.

His nose tingled again.

There was lots of that over the course of the week and the one that followed. Dean learned your name, and that your mom’s middle one was Mary - it only took a couple of extra days - but from the moment you bonded over your favourite cartoons, the two of you became inseparable, and Bobby was pleased.

Both Winchester boys had a chance at normal life. Well, semi-normal due to the talismans and arsenal in his basement.

And while Rufus refused to show his face again, as long as Sam and Dean lived under his roof, Bobby didn’t mind. He rather enjoyed that. But it didn’t stop other hunters and their problems from showing up on his doorstep, and on one particular Saturday morning after hearing from Bill Harvellle, he dug deep into his wallet for a couple of dollar bills and handed them to Dean.

“Why don’t you take your brother and that friend of yours to the arcade or somethin’,” he said, then narrowed his brows at the boy. “Call the house line ‘round five. Make sure it’s safe to come home.”

Dean took the money and shoved it in his front pocket. “Yes, sir.” He nodded once, and then grabbed Sammy by the hand and pulled him to the door.

The air was warm when they stepped outside. As Dean always did, he put the needs of his baby brother first, pulling off the four-year-olds jacket, then tying it ‘round his waist. He did the same with his and they were off. Sam on the handlebars of the bike Bobby had fixed up for them, Dean peddling with all his might into town.

It was hard work, and by the time they reached your house, he was out of breath, but it was worth it to feel the wind in his hair.

Cheeks puffed, neck hot and sweaty under the collar of his T-shirt, he knocked on your front door with a tight fist, and took a step back.

The dark wooden floorboards creaked underneath his sneakers. Footsteps from the other side moved closer, and he was soon met with your grinning smile and a bright pink scrunchie in your hair.

He scrunched his nose up, but that turned upside down when he saw the Ninja Turtle action figures in your hands.

“Hi Dean,” you said, peeking around him to look at Sam standing next to their bike. “You guys wanna come in and play?”

But they didn’t. Just as Bobby had suggested, Dean had other plans, and after checking in with your mom, the three of you headed to the local arcade.

Whirs. Dings. Whistles. The electronic piano jingles and a rocking soundtrack that tried its best to overcome everything else greeted you when the tinted glass doors rattled open. Lights, as far as the eye could see, of neon pinks, greens and blues and a carpet, littered with stains of mud and grass from the other kids already there, matched all that was overhead and surrounding.

Sammy clung to Dean even tighter. His little hands tugged on the base of his shirt. While on the other side of him, your face reflected the excitement hammering up his legs.

Until this stage in his young life, Dean had only been to an arcade once. The lucky timing of a classmate’s birthday party at a different school he spent all of two weeks in, well before being dumped here at Bobby’s.

That place was awesome, but this? It was awesome, too. There was just something about not being accompanied by adults that made it better.

Pacman and Donkey Kong called his name. Q-Bert, whatever the hell that was supposed to be. Space Invaders. Pin-ball and claw machines.

“Look! They have a Ninja Turtles one!” You pointed towards the back where a large machine plastered with their now fluorescent green faces stood out amongst the rest. “C’mon Sammy.” You grabbed the youngest boy’s hand and ripped him away from Dean.

“Hey, wait,” he called, but under all the noise, it was a lost cause.

With a huff, and one eye on you both at all times, Dean jogged over to the change machine by the door and swapped his money for quarters. You guys were the worst. Annoying. Impatient. Yet the way you grabbed the chair for Sam, and held it steady for him while he climbed up, had Dean’s nose buzzing again.

His nose buzzed like that every time he saw you. Playing games, eating lunch in the cafeteria. Riding your bikes through the streets of Sioux Falls, side by side, that same wind in your hair.

It’s just a shame it didn’t last long.

Never did.

Sam and Dean Winchester flew through towns as many times as there were months in the year, sometimes more. The Spring of ‘88 a rarity. Their stint at the local school and preschool, even rarer, and one soon forgotten.

Until 1997 when Dean found himself enrolling at another school in Sioux Falls.

He didn’t know the significance of that either, but he soon would. You’d make him.

Next Chapter

Am I shooting myself in the foot by releasing this part when I haven’t finished the rest? Probably, but I’m used to it. We’ll be diving into three stages in Dean and readers life in this one - up next - 1997.

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[winterstelltales]

Coffee and Vanilla

word count: 1k

pairing: zayne x reader

summary: you just can't get enough of zayne's scent

content tags: winter setting, cuddling, loads of kisses

warning: slightly suggestive at the end

a/n: fic was inspired by post by @wolfofcelestia

The air inside the cabin was surprisingly warm. Despite the heavy snow storm raging outside, inside was filled with a cozy silence, only interrupted by the crisp sounds of the wood crackling by the fireplace every now and then. 

 The room was bathed in a pleasant glow, and the scent of fresh snow seemed to linger around, but it wasn’t enough to conceal the sweet smell of hot chocolate and the plate of cookies placed in front of you. 

 You didn’t know what it was, maybe it was your sense of awareness as a hunter that made you pick up all these at once, and you were suddenly filled with an overwhelming feeling that you couldn’t explain. It wasn’t bad, you were partly sure it was because you were overjoyed, but it still left a heavy something inside you.. With nothing to do about it, you tightened your arms around the person you were cuddling with, burying your face further into his neck and took a deep breath. 

 His scent easily conquered everything. With Zayne taking a break from the hospital for a long time in a while, he didn’t smell much like disinfectant and hospital anymore. Sure, it was still there, a faint scent that you hoped would never leave him because you had gotten so used to it and you knew you were going to miss it if it ever disappeared. 

But with his usual scent gone, only the warm sandalwood and touch of sugary scent of pastries remained, though you were certain the latter was because he had stuffed himself up with some unhealthy amount of desserts, justifying it with the excuse that it was the holiday season.

 You indulged him of course, just as he has done countless times in the past when you particularly felt like you didn’t want to follow his doctor’s orders. 

 Zayne didn’t react immediately as always, his brows furrowed a bit, one hand coming up to pat the top of your head as he observed your sudden burst of affection. 

 You both were already cuddling in front of the fireplace, unable to go out because of the sudden snow storm that had occurred. You sat sideways on Zayne's lap, head supported on his broad shoulder while his right hand played with your hands lying on your lap. 

 “What is it?” His gentle voice knocked on the door of your thoughts, his hand coming back up to wrap around your waist.

 But you weren’t capable of giving him an answer, so you took another deep breath and tightened your arms around him more. 

 You weren’t sure if you could consume someone’s scent, but you were desperate for Zayne’s. 

 “It’s not that I don’t love you hugging me, my love, but I’m having trouble breathing,” his voice sounded strained in your ear. This time, you immediately loosened your arms around him, looking up at him with apologetic eyes.

 “Sorry,” you said softly.

 The corners of his mouth turned up, “don't apologize,” he said, his hand coming up to brush a stray hair on your face.

 “Is something bothering you?”

 You stayed silent for a second, then rested your cheek on his chest, feeling the beating of his heart. 

 “No,” you said and lifted your chin, smiling, “You just smell really good.”

 Zayne pursed his lips, the tips of his ears turning red almost immediately. He was never good at receiving compliments, but that didn’t mean you were ever going to stop giving them. 

 He coughed slightly, turning his head away for a bit. 

 You traced his sweater covered chest with your fingers, drawing simple patterns, “Like a little bit of coffee and a little bit of vanilla,” you continued, nosing his slightly red cheek, inhaling his scent deep to your core. His newly shaved face was soft to the touch, and it was getting warm more and more as words left your mouth. 

A smile grazed your lips as you kissed him softly on his ear, making his breath hitched.

Zayne’s hand on your waist tightened, squeezing you in warning. The blanket covering both of you had slided off by now, exposing you to the cabin air. 

“Did you use that sandalwood soap I bought you?” you asked, adjusting yourself somewhat to straddle him. 

Now with your whole body facing him, Zayne had no choice but to look at your face with his arms resting at your sides. Adam's apple bobbed slightly as he swallowed, the gentle movement drawing your attention to his neck.

 “You’re so beautiful,” You said softly, palming his neck with your hand.

You leaned in and pecked his lips, pressing your face against his forehead.

You were certain that even if you lived a thousand lifetimes, you could never fully grasp the depth of Zayne's beauty. It was a wonder that defied time, something you could admire endlessly, yet never quite get enough of.

His hand caught yours in a gentle grip, his flustered state disappearing in a blink of an eye as he stared at you with intense eyes, gaze falling on to your lips, “Not nearly as beautiful as you.”

And suddenly you were aware of everything again, but nothing was quite as alarming as the hard thing resting underneath you. Blinking, you returned your gaze back to Zayne, eyes twinkling with excitement.

 “Oh”

“Oh?” Zayne lifted an eyebrow and before you knew it he was grabbing you by the waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him until everything you could feel was the warmth radiating off him and his hard length resting under you. 

You support yourself by grabbing onto his shoulders, mouth slightly agape as you try to calm yourself down.

Seeing you like that was enough for Zayne, his lips found your neck instantly, peppering your skin with kisses that turn into little bites and sucks. You gasp softly, letting the weight of your body fall onto him. 

One of his hands finds themself under your sweater, calloused fingers trails up your spine, rousing a path of goosebumps as you lean more into his embrace.

“It looks like I've been far too lenient with you,” Zayne’s voice low and resonant, sending soft vibrations against your neck as he spoke. 

His nose presses against your skin, inhaling and tracing a path on your neck with his teeth before whispering, “Since you seem to enjoy teasing me so much, maybe it’s time I return the favor.”

dividers by @rookthornesartistry

[6fangz]

SOMETHING ON YOUR MIND

⋆ ♰.˚🦇⌗ ˎˊ˗

synopsis: sergeant williams has been on your case since the second you moved to town; the loathing is palpable, and yet something seems to draw you back together

warnings: there is a reference to being sl*pped in this (not ellie, very vague no detail) but pls read at your own risk (!), age gap (reader is 23, ellie is 28) starts kinda angry ig, some fluff, ends w smut, fingering (reader receives), this was my excuse to write southern ellie w a drawl

southern!officer!ellie x rebellious!fem!reader

MDNI 18 +

a/n: alright…hear me out on this one i swear i had a vision. it’s long and i still dk if this came together the way i wanted it to but whatever here it is anyways enjoy and i hope today was #fab ok bye

the sun peeks through your curtains, shining directly in your face as you stir awake. you run a hand over your eyes in annoyance.

the alarm clock on your nightstand lets you know it’s barely nine in the morning, which is still way too early to be conscious in your book. you bury your head back under your pillow.

but then you hear it; a bang on the front door of your beat up single wide. you don’t get up at first, because you don’t know who it could be and therefore you don’t care.

yet whoever it is remains persistent, knocking and knocking until you just can’t take it anymore.

you drag yourself out of your bed begrudgingly and shrug on a sweatshirt, tucking your feet into your beloved dino slippers out of habit.

your shoulders are heavy as you walk down the hall, so you roll them in an attempt to ease the tension. it doesn’t really work, and the pounding is bringing on a headache at this point.

“i’m fucking coming!”

you swing the door open a moment later, finding yourself face to face with none other than sergeant williams herself.

her cowboy hat is tilted low on her head, choppy hair framing her shaded face, but you can still see that she’s angry. the little line between her brows is a dead giveaway.

you smirk instinctively, hand perched on your hip as you squint at her. “ah, sarge. i’d say good morning, but it’s not.”

“nice shoes,” she grumbles in response, eyes sweeping over the rest of your disheveled state, “didn’t realize you’d be sleeping in.”

her comment actually does make you a little self conscious, enough to tug your sorry excuse for shorts down to cover yourself a bit more.

“well i was trying to, but you just woke me up, so how about we get on with whatever this is?”

ellie glares a little harder, thumb hooked in the waistband of her pants. “fine, you happen to slash noah bennett’s tires last night? cuz he’s real certain you did.”

the answer to that question is yes, but she doesn’t have anything on you. if she did, then you’d already be in her handcuffs on the way to the station.

you’re too careful for her regardless, and that makes you smile. “nope, wasn’t me. that’s hysterical, though.”

“i’m sure y’think it’s funny. got an alibi, kid?” she pushes, country drawl on full display.

you don’t shy away. “i was working the closing shift at the bar. ask literally anyone.”

also true; you were bartending last night, just like you normally are, but you had taken an extra long smoke break to visit noah’s most prized possession.

he respects that dumbass truck more than the women in his life, let alone women in general, and he deserved every bit of it after being a dickhead for so long.

you’ve never had a problem personally delivering karma, and nobody gets away with harassing a girl on shift.

at least not while you’re around.

the suspicion is written all over ellie’s face, but she’s grasping at straws and you both know it.

“i already have. but i needed to hear it straight from the accused herself.”

“aw, if you missed me you could’ve just said so.” you tease, placing a hand to your chest like you’re charmed.

she shakes her head in disbelief. “trust me when i say i cherish every moment you’re not makin’ my life more complicated.”

the thing is that you don’t trust her words, especially not when you swear she glances down at your lips as she says them. but it also makes your throat seize in a way you hate.

“great, we’re on the same page. now am i free to go or what?”

ellie has to gnaw on the inside of her cheek to keep herself from saying no. there’s not a logical reason to hold you up any longer, especially without any real evidence.

it was just important to follow up on every lead. right?

“yeah…suppose so. but i have a funny feelin’ i’ll be seeing you again soon.” she straightens and takes a few steps down your front porch.

“can’t wait.” you shoot back, not bothering to stick around for a response before you slam the door shut.

it satisfies you for a moment to let out some of your frustration, but the urge to scream follows you back to bed anyways.

ellie has been on your case since the moment you two met, and never once has she given you a chance.

she made up her mind about you then, that you’re just some burnout loser causing trouble in her jurisdiction. and you can’t say that description is too far off base.

but she doesn’t really know your life, and she never will. you’re not even sure that she experiences enough empathy to try.

so why does her opinion bother you so much?

you squeeze your eyes shut harder, trying to force your brain to be quiet. one of these days she’s going to drive you completely insane.

ellie remembers when you first moved to the area, over five years ago now. you were only eighteen, but already so set in your ways.

she was a few months out of academy, twenty three and very green in terms of her career. in fact, you were the first person she ever pulled over on a solo shift.

it immediately fazed her that she didn’t recognize you, considering everyone had practically known each other since birth. you were so nonchalant, so not threatened, and it made her crazy.

you just snapped your gum as she ran your plates, huffing like a brat when she ended up giving you a speeding ticket.

“seriously? i’m new to town, i didn’t even see the damn signs.”

“all five of ‘em, huh?” she spit back, though she regretted it instantly.

you looked at her with the fire of a thousand suns, and everything changed. the rivalry, the chase, began in that moment.

you slipped your sunglasses back over your face, smiling to yourself like something was funny. “make them a little bigger and maybe i’ll listen.”

ellie had hardly retreated before you sped off, turning the bend and disappearing completely before she had even gotten back to her car.

you’ve always been two steps ahead since. too smart for your own good, in her opinion.

she’d grown in the ranks remarkably fast, becoming the youngest sergeant in town history, and you still don’t take her seriously.

honestly, she doesn’t take herself seriously around you either. not any more at least. you’re a different woman now, somehow even more real and hardened by life.

maybe that’s what truly vexes ellie; she understands you, but you make it so difficult to not retaliate. every second the two of you interact it feels like her whole body is on fire.

she can barely keep herself together and it’s mortifying.

in fact, she’d initially wanted to go home tonight and enjoy a couple glasses of whiskey, forget all about you for a little while.

then she happened to drive by the abandoned strip mall and that plan went to hell.

your car sits alone in the lot, tucked away so it’s barely illuminated in the dying sun. but she’d recognize that model and color combination anywhere, and she can see you walking back to it as she swerves across the street without a second thought.

you’re in the middle of opening your driver's side door when ellie pulls up and flashes her lights briefly.

you roll your eyes on instinct. the last thing you were hoping for tonight was another lecture, but you turn to face her direction anyways.

she steps out of her vehicle and strolls over, readjusting the brim of her worn stetson. you swear she never takes that damn thing off.

“figured it’d be you.” she states plainly.

you tilt your head. “figured what would be me?”

she shoots you a look, genuinely surprised that you’re playing dumb with her about this one.

“the vandalism. noticed it a while back, but i couldn’t be sure i was right until i caught you.”

you cross your arms over your chest defensively. “first of all, it’s not vandalism, it’s art. and second of all, why would you assume it was me? i just went on a walk.”

she huffs out a soft laugh, and to your surprise she reaches her hand toward you.

you manage to stop yourself from flinching as ellie wraps her fingers around your wrist, untangling your arm gently so she can get a better look at the lingering spray paint.

it left a stains despite how hard you had scrubbed at it with wipes when you were done.

“wanna tell me the truth now?” she prompts, and you force yourself to meet her eyes.

her touch is unbelievably tender compared to her harsh exterior and rough hands, and it makes your heart wilt.

but you don’t let yourself think about it for long.

instead, you wrench out of her grasp and get right back to arguing. “fine, maybe it was me. but this building is literally ancient and i’m just making it look nicer, so what’s it to you?”

it kind of wounds her that you pulled away, but she can’t blame you either. she’d probably do the same in your position.

ellie tries not to let her damaged pride show when she finally answers.

“y’know, i actually agree with you for once.”

you don’t think she could’ve stunned you more if she tried. you’re not even sure that she’s ever said anything genuinely nice, at least not to your face.

“very funny.” you snark, because you still can’t believe it.

but she doubles down. “seriously, m’not here to take you in. nobody’s bought the mall in nearly thirty years anyways, and i really do like your paintings.”

her voice is warmer, sincere. she’s telling the truth for once.

you clasp your hands behind your back to keep yourself from fidgeting nervously. it’s unusual for her to catch you so off guard, but she’s enjoying the moment while it lasts.

there’s a flutter in your stomach that’s getting harder to ignore. you’re shoving it away with all of your willpower but it doesn’t help at all.

“oh. i, um…thanks.” you finally stutter it out.

she motions toward the building sheepishly. “show me the latest?”

your eyes widen even further; this interaction is not at all going how you expected it to. it isn’t what ellie had in mind either, but you’re both appreciating it all the same.

she really had been visiting the mall a little too frequently since she discovered your work. you’re the only person nearby with a creative bone in their body, so it was easy to figure you out.

it became a habit to check in and see if you’d added anything. every new piece was so intricate, and she loved each one for different reasons.

she didn’t intend to admit that to your face though, and she’s beginning to regret it until you pivot on your heel, adjusting your tote as you lead the way.

“alright. but this better not be a fucking trap or something.”

ellie is quick to follow suit, matching your pace as you walk. “not a trap, kid, i promise.”

“i have a name, by the way, and i’m sure as hell not a child.” you remind her briskly.

“really? must’ve forgotten.” she deadpans.

you smile slightly despite yourself, turning your head before she can catch a glimpse.

it’s nice interacting with someone equally as sardonic in nature, even if she does piss you off most of the time.

“you definitely didn’t.”

this quiets her immediately. she just shoves her hands in her pockets, twigs snapping under your feet as you trudge through the overgrown grass.

a moment later you round the corner to the back wall and color begins to light up the decaying brick.

you’re running out of room at this point, so the most recent picture is pretty close to the end near you.

a meteor in its blaze of glory, hurtling down to nowhere.

you point it out, though ellie spotted it on her own easily. “this is the one i just finished. tried out some different colors.”

“wow.” she states simply, stopping so close beside you that her shoulder brushes yours.

your brows furrow as you watch her inspect it without further comment.

“wow what?” you pry, trying not to let the edge make its way into your voice.

she pauses briefly before looking over at you. “it’s just impressive. you’ve got an actual vision, i mean you’re…you’re really somethin’.”

its your turn to be silent; you’re trying to read her face, because it suddenly feels like you’re in unfamiliar territory. there’s not a hint of animosity lingering in the air.

instead, ellie is looking at you all starry-eyed, and you feel like you’re being pulled into a current you can’t escape.

“do you mean that?” your voice is faint, almost like you’ve been subdued.

the validation is making you feel fuzzy, especially since it’s coming from the one person you thought would never say it.

she nods, and this time she’s staring at your mouth rather obviously. “meant every word.”

it’s so quiet, only the sound of the birds chirping somewhere above you, and it feels like the oxygen has been sucked out of your lungs.

ellie begins to shift, to inch even closer to you, but then your phone rings and you both jump apart so comically that the trance is broken straight away.

“shit…” you mutter, fishing around in your bag momentarily before yanking it out.

the number makes your stomach bottom out, and every pleasant emotion you just experienced evaporates from your body.

nothing nice can last for long.

ellie clears her throat and you snap to life, muting the ringer because you can’t answer it in front of her.

“sorry, i—um, i have to go.”

you don’t even bother making up an excuse; you just bolt past her, high tailing it back to your car without another word. instinct has taken over, and your body is moving on its own.

she calls after you, but you can barely hear it over the ringing in your ears. only once you’ve successfully made it behind the wheel do you check to see if ellie followed along.

you deflate a little when you realize that she hasn’t, and that she won’t.

it’s been three days. three days and three sleepless nights since ellie saw you last.

she’s been up in her head ever since you ran away, chastising herself for listening to those provocative little voices and wondering what's occupying your own mind.

it’s shameful to admit, but after twenty four hours of silence, she had a compulsion to check in.

a brief stop at the bar let her know that you weren’t working, so she’d cruised through your neighborhood to find out if you were home.

the driveway was empty, and it remained that way when she visited the second time around.

the longer you’re gone, the more uneasy ellie becomes, and you’ve been plaguing her thoughts even more than usual.

had she misread your feelings? taken it too far?

she needs to see you, to talk. and you’re nowhere to be found.

the sound of the resin balls cracking against each other nearby snaps her back into the present. she sniffs, taking a sip of her whiskey.

it’s getting late, nearly midnight now, but ellie can’t bring herself to leave the bar. listening to the chatter of others is comforting.

and though the alcohol isn’t making you reappear, it at least gets her to loosen up a bit.

another swig. this’ll be her third glass of jameson, and that needs to be the limit for now. lord knows how she runs her fucking mouth with a buzz.

she glances around again, and her eyes skip over you thoughtlessly before she does a double take seconds later.

you’re perched in one of the corner seats toward the back of the bar, nursing a beer by yourself. you look exhausted, staring down at the shitty wood below you and picking at your thumbs.

ellie has never seen you here before, since she knows you prefer to get drinks straight from your coworkers.

this is the only other place in town though, usually frequented by the old farmers because they’re allowed to smoke and play pool at the same time.

and through the haze, there you are.

her stomach twists; she’s not sure if she’s angry or hurt, but it’s an awful feeling all the same.

she’s headed your way before she can even take another breath. you’re so out of it that you don’t notice until she’s actually sat down on the stool beside you.

“where the hell have you—” she cuts herself off when you turn to fully look at her, and the air feels like it's been knocked from her lungs.

a bruise paints your right cheek, though it’s clear you attempted to cover it. your eyes are watery and unfocused. she watches the recognition wash over you slowly, and you smile.

“oh, hello there.” you state simply.

her blood is already simmering, and her fingers ache to reach out and brush your face. she barely stops herself, choosing to run them through her hair instead.

“i…you okay, kid?”

her voice is hesitant, because even though she wants to cave someone’s head in, she’s much more worried about approaching you with care.

you laugh a little, a hiccup mixing itself in at the end. “fuckin’ hate when you call me that.”

your hand is unsteady as you take another long sip of beer, and she thanks her lucky stars that you’re almost done with it. that’ll make it easier to get you out of here.

“you’re right, m’sorry. hell, you’re sittin’ at the bar and i’m still using that dumb nickname.” she says, scratching her chin awkwardly.

“whatever. been dubbed worse.” you shrug and let your gaze fall back to your knuckles.

ellie clears her throat, nudging her boot against your foot. “how about i take ya home, huh?”

“i’m not that fucked up, and for all i know you could be just as drunk.” you immediately get smart with her, but even you hear the way your words slur just slightly in the wrong places.

she shakes her head but keeps her tone even. “i know my limit, and i don’t go past it. how did you get here?”

“i rode my bike. i’ll be fine, don’t even worry about me.”

but she is worried, and you can tell by the way she rests her arm on the back of your chair that she’s not leaving your side.

three minutes ago you could’ve sworn that all you wanted was to be alone, but it’s actually reassuring to run into her.

“it’s dark and completely unsafe. you’re comin’ with me in the truck, and that’s that.”

you roll your eyes, but you don’t put up much of a fight. you’re tired enough as it is, and your house is over two miles away.

plus ellie smells so delicious, leathery and woodsy even through the smoke, and suddenly you don’t mind letting her assist.

“fine. but i get to pick the music.” you bargain, taking the final swig of your bottle out of spite before standing up.

she chuckles lowly, stretching out as she waits for you to grab your bag. “radio doesn’t work, but i got some CDs you can choose from.”

“you’re the youngest old person i’ve ever met.”

“i can live with that.”

you follow her out of the bar, focusing on not tripping over your own feet while the breeze rifles through your hair.

ellie approaches the curb where your bike is perched and picks it up easily, carting it over to her old 93’ ford so she can lift it into the back.

you find yourself noticing the way her crewneck rides up to expose her stomach, plaid boxers peeking out from her baggy jeans. they sit low on her waist, low enough that you can see the shadow of her v line.

it makes your mouth dry, and dirty thoughts run through your mind without warning.

she comes around to the passenger side to swing the door open for you. you don’t interject when she goes a step further and helps hoist you up into the seat.

instead, you opt to enjoy her sturdy grip on your elbow.

the worn cloth interior is comforting, and even the car has taken on her scent at this point.

you’re already digging through the glove box by the time she’d made it around the hood and hopped up beside you.

“ellie’s magic mix?” you read off the title of one of the discs, and she can see the humorous glint in your eye.

“hey, be nice. it’s the first one i ever burned.” she explains.

you slide it into the player as she puts the car in reverse, and a few seconds later a brassy voice begins to hum through the speakers.

it’s familiar, which surprises you.

“charley pride?” you ask as ellie peels onto the road, and she looks over at you in wonder.

“and just how’d you know that?”

you shrug, grinning at her all loopy. “i like old records. the happiness of having you is one of my favorites.”

“well color me impressed.” she jokes.

a silence settles as you both listen contently, passing by the rolling hills that are shrouded in darkness. the car rumbles along against the uneven pavement, the only other noise aside from the song.

ellie shamelessly peers over as you stare out your window, chin resting against your arm while you contemplate something she can’t understand.

she doesn’t want to disturb, but she’s been waiting for a decent time to ask. it’ll never feel good, though, so she settles for right now.

“who gave you that shiner?”

you audibly suck in a breath, because you were dreading this inevitable conversation. “is it really important? i’m fine, and it won't happen again.”

“of course it’s important. someone hurt you, and i…i wasn’t there. but i can help, if you let me.” she’s practically begging you to trust her, and it’s obvious in her voice.

but you refuse. you fight against yourself yet again, like you’ve been conditioned into it.

“why would you have been there? i was at home. or my hometown, whatever. either way, it’s not your job to protect me.”

ellie’s eyebrows furrow in exasperation. “why d’you have to be so damn stubborn? can’t you just let someone care?”

“oh, and that someone is you? c’mon, don’t pretend like you suddenly give a fuck about me. you just want the thrill of acting like a savior.” you snap coldly.

the insult pierces through her like a shard of glass. her jaw ticks, fingers tightening against the steering wheel.

she can feel the angry truth welling in her throat. normally she’d choke it all back down, force herself to keep everything routine between the two of you.

but the flood gates are open, and you’ve pushed her beyond her limit this time.

“is that what you think? that i’ve never lost sleep over you, or gotten worked up over you? i was about to put out an APB when i realized you’d skipped town, and you’ve got the nerve to suggest that you don’t matter to me? i mean, fuck, all i can do when you’re not around is wonder where you are.”

this revelation makes you sit upright again, dumbfounded by the things coming out of her mouth.

so much is racing through your head at once, yet you remain eerily quiet. when ellie gains the confidence to glance over, she realizes you’re studying her face like you’re enraptured.

“stop lookin’ at me like and say something.” she grunts and turns her attention back to driving.

but a telling blush creeps up her neck, which you’re rarely lucky enough to see.

she doesn’t usually break a sweat like this, and you feel like you owe her the same candor in return.

even if it’s hard.

“that call that i got when we were together was from the hospital. it was my mom.”

you pause, taking a moment before throwing yourself forward. “so i visited, tried to get her on track again, but she didn’t want my help. she never has. and then things got heated. you can put the rest together.”

ellie can connect the dots, even though she hates what it leads her to.

you’ve always been self sufficient, but you also kept it a mystery as to why you’d moved or why you were all on your own in the first place.

she never pushed, mainly because you wouldn’t let her, but she can appreciate why you have the boundaries that you do.

instead of saying anything, she places a warm hand on your leg. not high enough on your thigh to be suggestive, but not low enough on your knee to be overtly friendly.

it’s not what you expected, but it’s what you were lacking all along; something to ground you, a reminder that she’s still beside you.

“i’m not going back again, y’know? seriously. i’ll be alright.” you reassure her solemnly, like it’s a pact now that you’re voicing it.

ellie nods, thumb brushing against your jeans naturally.

“i know you will. it’s who you are. but i’m sorry that you’ve been goin’ through this alone.”

her subtle movements send tingles of electricity through you, and your body is a little too excited by it.

“it’s mostly my choice anyways. i don’t let people get that far because i want to be alone. or, uh, i used to.” you fumble over it gracelessly.

you’ve never been very good at conveying your feelings when they’re positive, and with ellie it’s even weirder.

it’s easy to read between the lines, but she also wants you to say it. “and now you don’t?”

“no. not anymore.”

her cheeks grow even more red as she turns down your street, rocking slightly as you hit the numerous little potholes.

she slides her palm higher up your leg, whether it’s conscious or not. “interesting.”

your stomach flips in response, and when her eyes run over you again, they’re visibly darker than before.

there is something on your mind plays softly in the background, which is ironic because she’s overwhelming every single one of your senses. it’s been a while since you’ve felt like this, completely engulfed in another person.

maybe you had been mistaking passion for hatred this whole time.

a moment later you come to a screeching halt, and ellie moves her hand to throw the truck into park. it’s quiet; everyone’s lights are off, a sleepy fog crawling through the town.

“well, uh…” she attempts to start a sentence, a goodbye maybe, but there’s nothing coming to mind.

you’re so restless that your body decides to speak for the both of you; you unbuckle your seat belt, inching closer instead of heading for the door.

you grip her right shoulder gently, stabilizing yourself as you throw your leg across her lap to straddle her. a groan slips through her teeth when you readjust yourself on her hips.

you hold her neck, tracing her jawline slowly while she stares up at you.

“you sure you know what you’re doin?” ellie asks, restricting herself to grasping your thighs for now.

you nod, leaning in just enough to leave her aching for more. “i think i can handle it, sarge.”

the sweetness of your shampoo is intoxicating, and all it would take is a tiny move forward for her lips to close in on yours.

maybe it’s the longing on your face, or the way your hair is framing your cheeks, but the boundary of professionalism has completely blurred by now.

how can it be wrong when it feels this right?

so instead of arguing or being sarcastic, she closes the distance and kisses you. it’s soft, almost surprised at first. then she gets a taste of your minty chapstick and it’s hard not to devour you.

you pull her in even closer, tongues and teeth clashing together, and in the heat of the moment she barely notices you biting at her bottom lip.

it only electrifies her more when she does feel it, so much so that goosebumps crawl across her skin.

her palms travel to grope your tits needily and you let out a sigh that gets lost somewhere in the midst of your make out.

ellie had nearly snapped earlier seeing your cleavage on display in the little tank you had on under your jacket. she didn’t think she’d get to do anything about those indecent ideas, though.

“fuck, i’ve been waiting for this.” she breathes against your mouth, effectively working her way to your neck right after.

a moan finally escapes, a sound so goddamn divine she almost forgets how to function.

but she keeps peppering sloppy kisses down past your collarbone, determined to elicit that noise from you again.

“so you’ve always been hot for me, then?” you goad, though it’s hard to banter when you’re being so pleasantly distracted.

“i’d still call it a recent development.” ellie pauses to joke back.

but even after saying that, she’s dying to worship more of you, so she diverts her attention again to slip the straps of your top down.

her knuckles stroke your skin as she goes, and she’s got your bra unhooked in one suave maneuver.

you raise your eyebrows at her as she helps you out of it. “cute trick.”

she just smirks as she tosses the garment to the passenger side. you’re still decently concealed by the worn zip-up resting on your shoulders, but your cami is pulled down to your stomach to reveal your chest.

the sight of you alone makes ellie throb, pupils the size of saucers by now.

“i can do a lot more than that, sweetheart.” she promises, cupping your now exposed breasts so that she can drag the pads of her thumbs across your nipples.

you shiver at the sensation, pushing your torso into her harder without even realizing.

“show me, cowboy.” you whisper, and she can’t help but reclaim your lips before you even finish.

she continues grazing over your sensitive buds, which makes you whimper a little louder into her kiss.

it’s completely illogical to be doing this out in the open, but the homes are spaced out enough and her brain is too immersed in you to care about consequences.

you grind into her a little in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure building in your gut, though that’s not what you really want.

ellie knows it too, so she breaks away enough to speak. “something i can do for you?”

“just wondering what those fingers would feel like inside me.” you hum, and her hands drop to your waist without hesitation.

she wanted you to be in charge of how far this went, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t want show you real pleasure.

and now she’s got the green light.

“filthy girl…can’t even make it into the house.”

there’s admiration in her tone as she frees the metal button to unzip your jeans, tugging them down your hips just enough to access you easier.

“it’s way more fun to live life on the edge.” you preach sarcastically, which she takes as more of a challenge than she should.

her hand dips into your pants and she skims across your clothed heat, enticingly slow to start.

your breath hitches in your throat and she feels your fist shift to grip her hair.

“then i sure hope you can be quiet for once.” ellie tests you right back, applying a bit more pressure as she traces the soft cotton.

you bite down on the inside of your cheek to try and hide your reaction, though every fiber of your body is ablaze.

it doesn’t help that she shifts down in the seat slightly, bringing herself more even with your breasts. she steadies your waist with her free hand as her mouth trails across the supple flesh, nipping at you every once in a while.

your panties are already damp, which rouses her so much that she decides not to boast. instead she pushes them to the side, letting her fingers run along your slick pussy.

the both of you groan, you into the open and her against your skin. she likes that you’re already clinging to her harder.

it makes her feel like you need her just as much.

ellie keeps the pace even but presses her tongue flat against your nipple, taking her time flicking back and forth. you squirm a bit, overwhelmed by the dual stimulation in the best way.

“a—aah…shit.” you whimper, rubbing yourself against her movements rhythmically.

she grins, lazily trailing her tongue across your skin, silently vowing that she won’t neglect an inch. “y’sound pretty when you’re not being a brat.”

“i’m not a—oh, holy fuck.”

without warning, ellie curls her middle finger and lets it slip inside of you, effectively cutting off your defense.

she slides it in and out a few times, giving you half a second to adjust before she adds another. you let out another lament, stunned even though it’s exactly what you want.

you clench around her and she swears under her breath. “so wet, so warm. you little minx.”

the praises go straight to your head, and you’re thirsting for her at this point.

she’s taking it slow, licking and sucking at your chest and neck while you move with the stroke of her arm. heat is building in your stomach, and you’re aching to spur the fire.

“faster ellie, please.” you beg, too far gone to worry about trivial things like dignity.

hearing you say her name while you plead is exhilarating, and all she wants to do is gratify your desires.

so she does just that, speeding up her fingers but ensuring that she buries them fully each time to hit all the right spots. and boy does she.

you tilt your head back slightly, giving her a better angle as you moan a little louder. it’s a sight to behold; your eyes screwed shut, tits bouncing in her face while she goes to work.

“please? didn’t realize i could’a just fucked some manners into you all this time.” ellie teases against your skin, and you give her a faint tug at her roots.

“shut up, i’m totally polite.” you bite back.

the way you’re sinking your hips down to fill yourself with her says otherwise, but it’s also ridiculously hot, so she doesn’t argue.

instead, she hums in agreement. “mhmm, such a lady, takin’ it so well.”

her compliments are leaving you absolutely spellbound, as much as you hate to admit it.

they’re dirty, and yet they sound so heavenly when she says them regardless.

your muscles are beginning to tighten from the pleasure, and ellie can feel it. but she knows she can get you there faster, make it even more intense.

so she continues pounding into you relentlessly, adding her thumb to the mix so that it brushes your clit.

your thighs twitch around her, and an involuntary cry leaves your throat.

“fuck, jesus christ!”

she smiles, completely ignoring the way her boxers are rumpled and sticky at this point. she’s not worried about herself; all she wants is for you to keep making those sweet little noises.

“feels good, huh, angel?” she asks, curving her fingers perfectly inside your cunt.

you nod, muttering something that’s not even coherent. your whole body is ablaze now; no part of your skin feels untouched by her goddamn magic.

ellie can’t believe she’s got you melting in her arms, exposed for anyone to walk up and see, but she loves it.

“right…there.” you gasp, clutching her hair and shoulder for dear life at this point.

she circles your swollen bundle of nerves harder while continuing to hit that sweet spot, and your legs feel like jelly.

you’re tensing around her hand with every stroke, all while she draws your skin between her teeth to leave hickies across the swell of your breasts.

huffs and groans fill the air, and it’s hard to tell where you begin and she ends. ellie doesn’t think she’s ever been this entranced by anyone, at least not in a very long time.

you’re goddamn beautiful, completely wild in this moment, and she adores it.

“i’m—mmm, gonna cum.” you whine, trying and failing to keep the desperate from your tone.

she doesn’t want it to end, but she hangs on to the hope that this is just the beginning and puts the rest of her energy into your satisfaction.

“give me everythin’, baby. let the whole fuckin town hear how dirty we are.”

she’s adjusts her grip to help rock you into her fingers, somehow filling you even more perfectly in the process.

your toes curl in your shoes right before your high crashes around you, mouth agape as you chant her name. your eyes squeeze shut while you finish, shaking lightly from the sheer force of it.

ellie keeps you steady while she gradually slows her tempo, simultaneously shimmying back up in the seat a bit so that she can watch you ride it out until the end.

the feeling of you cumming around her is something she’s not sure she’ll ever be able to forget, and the expression on your face is a close second.

finally, she stills completely, waiting until you’re able to look at her before she retracts her fingers.

they glisten in the nearby streetlights, slick from your orgasm, and your gaze glitters back as you watch her take them into her mouth.

you can see her tongue working, and she groans when she pulls them out fully clean a beat later, chest still heaving from all the activity.

“god, y’taste like heaven too.”

you cover your face with your hands in embarrassment, peeking through them as you shake your head slightly. “stop saying shit like that.”

ellie chuckles and tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear for you. “why, cuz it turns you on?”

“no, because you sound like a dork.” you lie, though the mess in your pants says otherwise.

ellie smacks your ass lightly in response. your arms fly down to wrap around her neck again as you let out a squeak of surprise.

“always gotta be a rebel, don’t ya?” she says, smoothing her palm over the place where it had previously landed.

there’s a smile plastered across her face though, probably similar to the fucked out one you’re wearing yourself.

you tangle your fingers in her hair, forcing her attention back to you. “well, someone has to make you do your job.”

“please, i know you’re soft for me under all that armor.”

you narrow your eyes playfully before pressing your forehead against hers. “i’ll deny it in public.”

ellie chuckles, and you feel her breath fan across your face. “we can work on that. how ‘bout we go inside and getcha cleaned up for now?”

“is this an excuse to see me fully naked?” you question as she slips the straps of your tank back over your shoulders gently.

“oh, are we still pretending that you don’t want me just as much?”

you place a chaste kiss to her lips. “yeah, yeah. touché.”

[rodentluvrr]

law x reader that matches his freak. theyre both clawing at the bars of their enclosure to get in eachothers pants. Thank you😊

pairing: law x reader CW: NSFW/sexual content, MDNI(18+ adults only), reader wears a dress, alcohol, freaky mutual thirst, beach setting, slight exhibitionism kink, vaginal sex word count: 2.4k words A/N: THIS WAS SO YUMMY THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS REQUEST. This song is so Law 🤤

The moment you walked into the bar, Law knew he was done for.

It was the dress. That damn dress. You never wore things like that—short, tight, low-cut in a way that made his mouth dry up. It wasn’t like you to show so much skin, and that was what killed him most. Because now he couldn’t stop wondering who you’d worn it for.

His grip tightened around his drink, fingers curling, trying to ground himself. The dim, golden lighting of the bar cast a glow on your skin, catching the curves of your collarbone, the slope of your shoulders, the ridiculous amount of thigh you had on display.

Law exhaled sharply, dragging his gaze away before he really started staring. His shirt—unbuttoned more than usual, thanks to the heat and alcohol—felt suffocating now. His cheeks burned, but he refused to acknowledge why. It was just the whiskey. Just the heat. Just—

Your eyes met his.

For a second, it was nothing. Just a glance, a passing flick of attention. But then you held it. A little too long. A little too knowing. Your lips curled, just barely, like you knew exactly what you were doing to him.

Law swallowed.

This was bad. This was really bad.

He willed himself to look away, but his traitorous brain supplied him with an image—a memory, really—of last night’s dream.

You, straddling him. His hands gripping your waist. The taste of your mouth, sweet and warm. The way his fingers traced fire across your skin, the way you gasped into the kiss—

Law shut his eyes, inhaled through his nose. Fuck.

The dream had been so vivid he could still feel it. Still taste it. It had lingered with him all day, twisting his thoughts, making his usual restraint thinner, weaker. And now, this.

You. In that dress. Looking at him like that.

Like you knew.

His jaw clenched.

He needed to leave.

Or he needed to do something before he lost his goddamn mind.

He had tried. Really, he had tried to keep his distance.

For months, he had pretended this wasn’t a problem. Had convinced himself that the way his pulse jumped when you got too close, the way his gaze always found you first in a crowded room, the way he replayed every small touch in the dead of night—none of it meant anything.

Because the alternative? Admitting that he wanted you. That he ached for you. That the thought of you with someone else made something sharp coil in his gut, something that felt dangerously like possessiveness.

So he had kept his distance. Had trained himself to ignore it, to push it down.

And for a while, it had worked.

But tonight?

Tonight, it was over.

“You’re staring, Captain.”

Your voice was smooth, lilting, amused. You were perched at the bar now, drink in hand, watching him with open interest. Your lips were glossy, parted just enough to make his thoughts deeply inappropriate.

Law exhaled slowly. “You look different.” His voice was steady, but barely.

“Like what?”

His jaw tightened. He had so many words—too many, all at once, none of them appropriate. Like a fucking problem. Like you’re going to ruin me. Like I’ve thought about kissing you for longer than I’d like to admit.

Instead, he settled on: “Like trouble.”

A slow, knowing grin spread across your lips. “Oh? And what are you gonna do about it?”

Law swallowed.

The air between you was charged, electric. Your fingers trailed absently along the rim of your glass, drawing his attention to them—to your hands, to the way they might feel curling into his hair, digging into his shoulders—

Shit.

“You’re drunk,” he muttered, grasping at the excuse like a lifeline.

You laughed softly, tilting your head. “I’ve had one drink, Law.”

He cursed inwardly. You were right here, so close, and all it would take was one step—one slip of restraint—to close the distance.

Your gaze dropped, lingering on his collarbones, his open shirt, the flush creeping up his neck. “You look different, too.”

His breath hitched.

You reached out, fingertips brushing along the exposed skin of his chest—light, teasing, setting every nerve ending ablaze.

And that was it.

That was the moment he snapped.

Law’s hand shot out, fingers wrapping around your wrist, grip tight but not painful. His breath was uneven now, chest rising and falling in a way he couldn’t control.

“Don’t,” he warned, voice lower, rougher.

Your eyes flicked to his, wide with something unreadable. “Why not?”

His fingers flexed. His pulse pounded in his ears. He wasn’t sure who moved first, but suddenly, you were right there, barely an inch between you, the warmth of your body bleeding into his.

His eyes flickered down to your lips.

Fuck it.

His mouth crashed against yours, all teeth and desperation. The kiss was a collision, months of pent-up frustration bursting all at once. You gasped into it, and that sound undid him completely.

His hands were on you before he could think, gripping your waist, dragging you closer, pulling you into him like he could drown in you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, nails scratching against his scalp, sending shivers down his spine.

He couldn’t breathe. Didn’t care.

All he could think, all he could feel, was you.

The second you pulled him outside, Law knew he wasn’t making it back to the submarine.

Not without indulging you first.

The night air was cool against his flushed skin, a sharp contrast to the fire raging inside him. You were dragging him by the wrist, weaving through the darkened paths leading to the docks, but his mind wasn’t on the destination.

It was on you.

On the taste of your mouth, still lingering on his lips. On the warmth of your body pressed against him in the bar. On the fact that your fingers were still laced with his, your grip tight, your pace eager.

Law swallowed hard. He needed to breathe. Needed to think. But every time his gaze dropped—to your exposed collarbones, the curve of your thighs, the way your dress shifted with every hurried step—his restraint slipped further.

And then, you stumbled onto the beach.

The docks were too far, the submarine still distant, and the moment you realized it, you turned to him, breathless. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, lips swollen from the last kiss, and your eyes—fuck, your eyes—held something dangerous.

Something hungry.

“Here,” you murmured.

Law tensed. “We’re—” He glanced around, voice strained. “Someone could—”

But then you were kissing him again, cutting off his hesitation with the softest, sweetest brush of your lips.

And that was all it took.

The moment he kissed you back, it was over.

Your hands were in his hair, fingers fisting into the strands, dragging him closer, deepening the kiss until he was dizzy from it. His own hands found your waist, sliding over your curves, gripping, claiming.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew this was reckless. But he didn’t care.

Not when you were moaning softly against his lips. Not when your leg hitched around his waist, pressing yourself flush against him. Not when your nails dragged down his neck, leaving him shuddering.

Law groaned, his head tilting back as your mouth moved to his throat.

“Shit—” His breath stuttered, his grip tightening on your hips as your teeth grazed his skin. He could feel the sand beneath his knees as you tugged him down with you, your bodies sinking into the warmth of the beach.

You straddled him, hands moving with purpose, tugging at his shirt, sliding it off his shoulders, pressing urgent kisses against every inch of newly exposed skin.

He hissed when your lips trailed down his collarbone, his fingers digging into your thighs, trying to ground himself. But it was useless.

You were everywhere.

And he was gone.

The night wrapped around you both, the distant crash of waves drowning out everything but the frantic sounds of your breathing. Law was hovering over you, his chest rising and falling erratically, pupils blown wide with desire. The sand beneath you was warm, molded to your shape, but the real heat came from him—from the weight of his body between your thighs, from the way his fingers traced your skin like he was committing every inch of you to memory.

His hesitation was gone.

No second-guessing. Just need.

Now, there was only you and him.

His lips met yours again, slower this time, but no less desperate. His fingers tangled in your hair, cradling the back of your head as he deepened the kiss, tasting you like he never wanted to stop. His free hand slid down, tracing the curve of your waist, skimming over your stomach, exploring, memorizing, worshipping.

When you arched into him, seeking more, he let out a low groan—needy, wrecked—and pressed his forehead against yours.

“Tell me,” he rasped, his voice barely above a whisper.

You didn’t need to ask what he meant. You cupped his face, thumb brushing over his cheekbone, feeling the heat radiating from him. “I need you, Law.”

That was all it took.

His lips trailed down your jaw, over your throat, pressing reverent kisses along the column of your neck. He was slow, savoring each moment, but there was an urgency to the way his fingers slid under your dress, gripping at the fabric, pulling it up over your hips.

When his hand brushed against your bare thigh, you shivered.

His mouth hovered just above your ear, his breath hot and uneven. “I’ve wanted this—you—for so long.” His voice cracked with emotion, a confession slipping out between heavy breaths. “You don’t know what you do to me.”

You did know. You had seen it in his lingering glances, in the way he avoided looking at you for too long, in the tension that built between you with every passing day. But hearing him say it? Feeling him tremble against you?

It was almost too much.

You tugged at his belt, desperate, and he let out a shaky laugh—low, breathless, filled with something bordering on disbelief. As if he still couldn’t believe this was real. But then you guided his hand to your inner thigh, silently urging him closer, and all his restraint snapped.

His fingers traced slow, deliberate circles against your skin, creeping higher, teasing, until they brushed against the thin fabric between your legs. He sucked in a sharp breath at the damp heat he found there, pressing his forehead to yours as his fingers pushed aside the barrier, gliding through your slick folds.

“Fuck,” he muttered, voice wrecked, almost disbelieving. He stroked you again, more deliberate this time, spreading your wetness over your aching clit. His jaw clenched, his breath coming out ragged. “You’re—” His lips brushed against yours, the words almost lost between your mouths. “You’re so ready for me.”

You whimpered, rolling your hips into his touch, and his restraint cracked even more. His fingers dipped lower, teasing, pressing just enough to feel how ready—how eager—you were. He groaned at the way you clenched around nothing, already seeking him, already desperate.

His forehead dropped to your shoulder, his body trembling. “I need you.”

“Then take me,” you whispered, guiding his hand back to your hip, pulling him closer, legs parting to welcome him in.

And when he finally pushed into you, he swore—a quiet, shaky exhale against your lips—before capturing your mouth in another kiss, swallowing the soft gasp that left you.

He pressed in deeper, slow but needy, his fingers gripping your hips like he never wanted to let go.

You clung to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, your legs locking around his waist, pulling him impossibly close.

“Fuck,” he groaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck, shuddering. “You feel—” His words broke off into a desperate moan as you rolled your hips, meeting him perfectly.

He wasn’t just taking—you were giving, moving with him, completely in sync, and it sent a violent shiver down his spine. His kisses turned messier, more frantic, trailing over your shoulder, across your collarbone, up your throat.

It wasn’t just sex.

It was intimate, overwhelming, a slow and desperate claiming of each other, hands gripping, bodies pressed so close that not even air could fit between you. Every thrust, every kiss, every touch was filled with everything you had never said out loud.

And he was unraveling.

“Y/N—”

His voice was strained, like he was trying to hold back, but the way you moved beneath him—the way you tightened around him, nails raking down his back, moaning his name like a prayer—sent him over the edge.

He snapped, his rhythm faltering as he drove into you harder, chasing the heat coiling deep in his gut. You gasped, arching against him, and the sound of your pleasure sent him spiraling.

“Look at me,” he panted. His forehead pressed against yours, his breath mingling with yours. “I need to see you.”

Your eyes met, and the moment your gazes locked, you both shattered.

Your release hit you like a tidal wave, body trembling, back arching as a cry of pleasure escaped you. And Law, he was right behind you, his grip on you tightening as he buried himself deep, groaning your name like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to this world.

The waves crashed in the distance, the cool night air washing over your sweat-slicked bodies, but neither of you moved. You stayed tangled together, breaths uneven, limbs entwined, Law’s weight pressing you into the sand in a way that felt right.

His lips found your temple, pressing a soft, lingering kiss there, and when he finally pulled back to look at you, his expression was unreadable.

But his hand found yours. Fingers lacing together, squeezing gently.

“We’re not running in circles anymore,” he murmured, voice still hoarse. “Not after this.”

You smiled, exhausted but utterly content. “No,” you agreed, squeezing his hand in return.

Law exhaled, dropping his forehead against yours, his smile small but real.

And in that moment, you both knew—

This wasn’t a fleeting moment.

It was just the beginning.

[unintentionalseductress]

The Office Pet Part 4

warnings: MDNI, pet play, name-calling, exhibitionism, oral (fem receiving), women on women This fic does not mean I think Kusakabe would be bad in bed, but there aren't many other men left. NOT PROOFREAD. I may have stolen some concepts from @anonimusunnoaniswriting

Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

“Kusakabe, why are you taking so long?” Kento gives the brunette man a withering look as he sees your unsatisfied state.

“He’s eating me wrong!” You complain, and Gojo snickers. You had been happy and warm, snuggled with Gojo and Higuruma’s pets when a sudden phone call had all the men gathering in the same room. 

“Were you aware he was coming today?”

“No, it was a completely unprompted visit. He said something about a welfare check.”

“On the pets?”

“Yes. I mean it’s a relatively new allowance. Makes sense that he’d want to see if it’s being implemented well.”

Amidst all the chatter, Kento had gently patted your head, trying to rouse you. “My sweet little pet. Can I ask you for a favor?” He pushes back locks of your pretty hair, his heart melting as your eyes turn from the fuzzy haze of sleep into alertness. “I’m sorry to wake you, but our CEO is arriving shortly. He’s bringing his pet as well. We’re worried about Kusakabe. He hasn’t eaten pussy in a long time and if he fails to satisfy the CEO’s pet they might take away the office pet allowance altogether.”

He scoops you up, the flimsy miniskirt of the lingerie you’re wearing draping over Kento’s forearm. “Do you mind letting him practice on you? You smell so delightful little pet.” Kento pressed a kiss to your forehead and you glowed at his affection. Kento had placed you gently on Gojo’s cleared desk and slipped off the lacy panties, exposing your pussy to Kusakabe, who stood looking nervous. 

“Geez Atsuya, it doesn’t have teeth,” Higuruma goaded him, and the room erupted into laughter, both men and pets. “Seriously he keeps looking at it like it’s going to bite him. It’s soft, squishy. Now stop acting like we’re throwing you to the wolves. It’s a harmless little pussy, and if you fail in this, the CEO is going to come down hard on you. His pet isn’t something you can leave unfinished. 

Atsuya had shakily approached you, and you glance up at Kento who’s hovering by your head, gently massaging your breasts to get your blood humming. Atsuya’s fingers are clumsy as he parts your folds. His warm tongue darts out, but it didn't take long for you to realize he had no idea what he was doing. He kept missing your clit, even though it was right there, peeking out from between your folds, and he failed to listen to your cues, the little happy chirps falling deaf on his ears as he tongue swirled haphazardly over random areas of your core. 

Kento picks up on your discomfort immediately. “Atsuya I swear to God if you ruin this for all of us just because you don’t know how to eat pussy-”

“Show me how!” Kusakabe blurts in panic. Gojo and Higuruma sigh and approach the table. Kento spreads your folds and points to the swollen tissue at the top of your mound. “See that? That’s her clit. Maybe try licking that instead of shoving your tongue everywhere else.”

Kento spits on his fingers and brings them to your clit, massaging the nub, drawing an immediate mewl of happiness from you. “See? Her face makes it obvious. You have about 5 minutes to prove you can eat her out correctly or else you’ll have to go home for the day. We’ll make up an excuse to tell the CEO.”

“I don’t know how he missed that,” Gojo says, peeking at your folds. “Her clit is right there.”

“And this is her pussy.” Hiromi gently prods your hole and Kusakabe’s face blushes red. 

“I know!”

“Do you?”

“Ok enough! Let him try. We have a very short window to decide if Kusakabe is here or goes home for the day.”

“A little too late for that I’d say.”

Startled, all 4 men look at the door and see their CEO smiling smugly at them, his pet obediently next to him on the floor, wearing a long overcoat to hide the fact that she was only wearing lingerie underneath it. She had wide eyes and her hair was tied back into a ponytail. She was watching the scene with a keen observance, her smirk mirroring her master’s as she looked at Kusakabe. 

Suguru removes the leash from her collar and gives her ass a friendly pat. “Go play sweetheart.” She immediately moves forward to the cuddle pile where Gojo and Higuruma’s pets are seated. They waste no time in welcoming her, removing the trenchcoat and revealing lingerie that looked like shibari ropes, with barely any fabric covering her crotch or nipples. She playfully wriggles her ass and the two other pets take the cue, one of them gently spanking her while the other starts to touch her clit. Her noises of pleasure were punctuated with little yelps as she was spanked.

Suguru rolls up the leash and puts it in his coat pocket before entering the office. He appraises you, laid on your back looking flushed and irritable, your pussy on display to the whole room. Kusakabe immediately steps away so that he can get a better look. Suguru’s long hair tickles your abdomen as he leans over to check the little badge on your collar. He hmms as he reads the name and his eyes fixate on Nanami. 

“May I?” he asks, but it’s not really a request for permission. Nanami nods.

Suguru’s hot breath ghosts your thighs and you go perfectly still as his thumbs part your folds. Kusakabe’s spit still lingered and the raven-haired man tsks at the sight. “Most of the wetness here isn’t yours, is it pet?” He looks at you, and you hesitate. He cups your face. “I assure you no one will get in trouble.” You shake your head no. 

Suguru puts his nose between your folds and inhales deeply. “So sweet. I’d heard rumors about one of the pets smelling like candy down there. I didn’t think it was so accurate.” His tongue swirls around your clit and you let out a moan. He knew exactly what he was doing. Your eyes look up to glance at Kento’s face and he nods encouragingly, stroking your hair. The tip of his tongue gently nudges the little nub, going at it in patient circles, until you feel your core starting to drip again. 

Your hand involuntarily tangles into his beautiful hair and he chuckles, the noise muffled against your puffy sex. It might have been out of line, a pet reaching for a master’s hair without permission but Suguru was in a good mood today, so he allowed it. Your reaction to his mouth was all he needed to allow you that indulgence. You whimper, hips arching as his lips seal around your clit and suck, the pressure pushing you to the edge. You cum with a cry, your clit pulsing hotly inside his mouth while your core spasms in tandem. 

Suguru pulls away and wipes his mouth. “I hope that suffices as a decent demonstration.” His purple eyes fix on Kusakabe who shrinks. You lie on the table panting and Kento picks you up and places you with your playmates. Suguru’s pet lazily opens her eyes to glance at you, her pussy being serviced attentively by Higuruma’s pet. You’re entranced by the dreamy quality in her gaze and go over for a kiss, which she accepts with a delighted purr. 

“Are the pets serving their purpose?” Suguru occupies Gojo’s chair and looks at the men expectantly. 

“Indeed sir. They’re the joy of the office.” Satoru is the first to speak. 

“I see that their conditions in your office are a little…lackluster though.” Suguru’s eyes take in the plushy futons that have been laid out, not uncomfortable by any means but lacking the finesse he’d been expecting. “Perhaps I can fix that. I’ll give each of you a pet expenditure card for their needs. Start by upgrading their office quarters, but you can also use it for other things; hair, nails, makeup, lingerie, toys. I didn’t push so hard for office pets to have them living in basic conditions.”

The statement was rather mindboggling considering the futons were covered in sheets that had an impossible threadcount, and all the pets wore collars made from either gold or platinum, and had at least one jewel embedded in it that exceeded 10 carats. How much luxury was Suguru’s pet living in that he considered their lives to be basic?

“That’s so kind of you Geto-sama.” Nanami bows. “Truly unexpected.”

Suguru’s eyes fall on his pet who was close to a soft orgasm, her moans muffled by your mouth on hers. She cums with a mewl, her back arching as the pleasure exploded in her, then opens her eyes. Suguru pats his lap and she eagerly crawls over to him, snuggling and allowing him to securely hold on to her using the shibari style lingerie wrapping around her. 

“Did you enjoy that?” Suguru pets the woman affectionately under the chin and she melts into his touch. “Do you want something else?” She nods as though she already knew what he had in store for her. “Take it then.”

Suguru continues talk to the men as his pet starts to undo his zipper, pulling out his long cock and turning on her kness so that she’s facing the crowd while he talks. “Office pets are our best resource to prevent burnout and stress.” His voice hitches for a brief second as his pet slowly sinks onto him, then starts to ride him, her tits bouncing.

Kusakabe lets out a muffled cough, trying not to ogle the sight. The 3 other men look unruffled and continue to listen. Suguru’s large hand grabs onto a bunch of the ropes at the back of the woman’s lingerie, allowing her to move at angles that weren’t possible when seated on another’s lap on your knees.

“They provide us with companionship and endless joy and pleasure. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the improvement in the numbers since the office pet allowance was enabled. That speaks volumes.” He glances at his pet who flushed and clearly enjoying herself as she fucks him. “Slow down.” He grips the ropes tighter, controlling how fast she was moving. “You don’t want to overstimulate yourself.”

“But I think they deserve the best of everything. Their devotion is endless after all.” He squeezes one of his pet’s nipples causing her rhythm to falter. Geto lifts her off his cock slightly by the fabric ropes, steadying her, then loosens his hold so that she can push back down. 

“I’m also concerned that our newest hire seems to lack the knowledge needed to keep a pet satisfied.” His eyes rove over Kusakabe and the other men turn to glare at him. “Has he really never eaten pussy before?”

“Of course I have!” Kusakabe splutters suddenly. “Sir.” He adds hastily. 

“Clearly not with any skill. Nanami’s pet was half dry by the time I got to her.” Silence fills the room, except for the sound of Geto’s pet moaning, her round ass slapping against his thighs each time she moved. “My advice to you Atsuya, is to take your time and learn the material. Do you have a girlfriend?”

He shakes his head no. “No wonder. But I suppose that means we won’t have to worry about the office pet allowance being applicable to you yet.” Geto grunts as his pet slams down on him, and before he could get in another word, she lowers herself completely, eyes closed in ecstasy as she takes Suguru’s load into her.

“Well done sweetheart.”Geto pants and strokes her back. He helps her off his lap and sets her down on the floor and she wanders off to rejoin the other women. He quickly produces a handkerchief and wipes himself clean before continuing.

“The rest of you though, I assume you’re keeping your pets satisfied? Giving them high quality meals? Ensuring they get enough water? Regular massages? They use their bodies to please us so the least you can do is make sure they don’t have any aches and pain.”

“Of course Geto-sama,” Higuruma reassures him. “All this is being done.”

“Excellent.” He looks at the pets. His was being cleaned by Gojo’s pet while you had her head in your lap, leisurely stroking her cheeks and pressing kisses to her forehead. Geto observes the smitten way his pet looks at you. 

“Come gentlemen. Let’s have lunch.” He tucks his spent cock back into his pants. “I’ll make sure something is sent up for the pets to eat.”

As they walk, Geto lingers behind and catches hold of Nanami. “How do you feel about setting up a private playdate? My pet and yours?”

Kento’s hazel eyes look intrigued. “I would have to ask her, but sure. Any reason, Geto-sama?”

“My pet seems to have taken a liking to her. And whatever my pet wants, she gets.”

@aether-seawolf @makingtimemine @snwvie @facelessfionna @sweetskozume @theimmortalbuns @supernaturalbaesduh @marusatonanhin @pwd54gr54 @brekkersgf

© unintentionalseductress original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

[ivryne]

LOOK OF LOVE

raf as your academic rival hcs but there is a oneshot in the bottom

Academic rival! Rafayel who's a social butterfly but is secretly a nerd.

Academic rival! Rafayel whose always second best to Academic achiever! MC.

Academic rival! Rafayel who would stay in the library until midnight and not leave before you do just to make sure you got home safe.

Academic rival! Rafayel who secretly looks forward to your competition because it thrills and encourages him to get even better and better.

Academic rival! Rafayel who's stomach gets swarmed by butterflies when he sees that devilish smirk as you shove him your perfect 100% in front of his face (he got a 99).

Academic rival! Rafayel who "bothers" you when you're studying in the library so he could "distract you to drag you down" and "show you who's the smarter one" when he actually just wants to spend time with you.

Academic rival! Rafayel who gets disappointed when he sees his name in the 2nd rank of the high school rankings but that feeling is instantly vanished when he sees that light in your eyes as you get placed 1st.

Academic rival! Rafayel who now makes it his habit to tail you in the library to study together. As he said before, "Keep your friends close but your enemy closer." Right...we'll believe you, Raf.

Academic rival! Rafayel whose eyes subconsciously goes to your lips when you recite the things you need to remember.

Academic achiever! MC who notices where his eyes linger as a small amused smirk forms on your lips.

You both are sitting side by side in the desks at the library's corner. Skies akin to tangerines as the sun nearly kisses the horizon. "Like my new lipgloss that much, fishie?" Spark ignites in the core of your pupils, as you notice where your lavender haired rival is trailing his focus to.

That is enough to catch Rafayel from his trance, allowing him time to make a good excuse to save his pride. He dismisses you with a mischievous smile, "Want me so bad that you start hallucinating, princess?"

Now it's your turn to scoff.

"In y-

"In my dreams? Such basic comeback." He cuts you off. His chair now inching closer to your part of the table, stacks of papers forgotten on the desks before you as his arm climbs to the back of your chair. "Come on, brains. You can do better than that."

Your gaze calmly flickers to his hand on the leaning part of your chair, ignoring the shivers that just went through your body at the increasing proximity.

No no no, you are not letting him get the upper hand. If thats what he wants, two can play the game.

Your heart thumps like it just finished a long workout, pumping blood to your whole body in a determined pace. But there is no way in hell you are never going to let him know the effect he has on you. So instead you do what you do best, beating him at his own games.

Your eyes melt into those ever so enchanting purple hues before averting them to the plump of his lips and returning back to meet his gaze. "You're wrong." Slender fingers make its way to Rafayel's chin, slowly trailing the soft skin of his jaw, allowing shivers to creep through his entire body. "What I meant to say was..." The grasp you have on his chin forces him to meet your irises, the one that he often got lost in.

"Was...?" He tilts his head to the side, his arm on your chair now inching to the small of your back, slightly engulfing you to draw you even closer.

The tip of your noses touch at the lack of distance in between. Rafayel's eyes can't help but linger to your lips once more, now looking more enticing than ever. Like an artist with his muse, his heart yearns for more, for you.

That mouth that had called him names, argued with him, insulted him, and lastly that mouth that he wanted to kiss so fucking badly.

"What I," You take a sharp breath, the lids of your eyes drawing shut. "Wanted to say was...." The hand on your back now rests on the nape of your neck, encouraging you to move forward.

But instead of closing the nonexistent distance between you, you shoved his chest with your free hand. "Was 'fuck off, Rafayel.'"

Disbelief and embarrassment flushes on his beautiful visage. "If you wanna kiss me so bad then tell me, pretty boy." You turn your body towards the cubicle of your desk, ignoring the flames your rival is sending you with his glares.

But before you can fully immerse yourself in the subject once more, a force of energy turns your chair 90 degrees. "What will you do then?" The boy asks. His eyes fueling with an emotion you cannot fully place.

"Raf-" He cuts you off, "What will you do if I say I want to." His body traps your smaller frame, two arms guarded your sides like railings of a bridge.

"Rafayel, this is ridiculous."

"What if I say I want to," Like the roles are reversed, he now hold your chin in place, forcing eye contact to commend. "kiss you?"

"Are you gonna push me away?" He trails his fingers to the plush of your cheeks. "Or are you going to kiss me back?"

He strokes your cheek with so much emotions, so much love. "Tell me, my darling. Which one is it?"

His eyes meet yours once more, now more inviting than ever. Ready to welcome you to a dance of passion and love.

The thump of your heart is almost verbal. You want to give in so badly but that wall of pride is like a big tree in the middle of the road, blocking you to where you long to be.

The slight nod you give him is not missed by your love enemy before you. His other arm travel to your waist and gives it a gentle squeeze. "Just push me if you want to stop." With that the oxygen separating you disperses as he melts into you.

Two lips dance in the melody of synchrony as two hearts separated by pride and competition unite in a beautiful symphony. Rays of the golden hour graces the two, igniting their beauty of young love and driven passion. It was clear to everyone that you both harbor feelings for each other despite all the contests and bets.

Maybe it took a little bit more time for you both to realize. But in the end, it was all worth the wait, right?

ivynotes! uhmm lowkey don't know how to end it?? BUT I HOPE IT'S GOOD??? IDK lemme know guysss!! drop a like and comment ur thoughts love yaaaa <33

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