#and he just gets SCOLDED for leaving the door open

[ruinix]

Can you write a smut story of Quinn Hughes and y/n having car sex right before entering Dice & Ice?

Hi, lovely anon. I apologize for just getting to your ask. I fear I have been so distracted (Quinn withdrawals are hitting me so badly). But here it is! I hope you enjoy it even though it’s late.

Cramped Space

TW/CW: 18+ MDNI, Smut, Semi-Public Sex (car sex), Unprotected Sex (protections, yesyes), Just Quinn…being horny, of course, and fucking you so sloppy until you're a puddle but it's just a quickie...

Count: 3036 words | Masterlist

You’re nervous. Quinn can see that. You are fidgeting with the pendant of the necklace he gave you last night. Its matching earrings and bracelet glint on your ears and wrist. He glances at you.

Now, you’re biting your lower lip. 

You shift again, so he rests his hand over your thigh, sliding into the slit of your dress, his fingers curving over your inner thigh, giving you a firm squeeze. You sigh which makes him worry more. You scoot closer, spreading your legs an inch to invite his touch, so he squeezes again.

He spots a great parking spot in the venue for Dice & Ice Gala. It’s quite a close off area that’s sandwiched by a thick square column and a wall. He likes the slightly isolated areas because some people park way too closely. He doesn’t want you to have any difficulty going out your door, rather, him getting to you when he opens it for you.  

“What are you worried about?” he asks.

Another squeeze. He feels your shiver. Then he hears a slight sound which he assumes to be a small plea of discomfort. A tiny whimper that feels like a stabbing knife to his heart. How did he not see this before leaving the house? You clearly don’t want to go to the gala. He’s stupid.

He bites down his tongue to prevent him from speaking, waiting for you. He briefly lets go of your thigh, hearing another fucking sharp inhale, so he quickly slides into the spot, putting the car on park—shifting the gear and lifting the hand break. He places his hand back to your thigh as he turns to you.  

You’re looking around everything except him. Your lips are slightly trembling as you twist and tug the pendant. Quinn reaches to hold your hand. Only then, you look at him with worry and…What’s that? Is that…lust?

There’s no way. Why would you be turned on when you’re anxious? Maybe he’s just projecting his need for you. Fuck, he is, isn’t he?

Mentally, he slaps his head for being an idiot.

He needs to know what you’re worried about. He has to. He must. It feels awful being clueless when something eats at you. He needs to make it right. How will he make it right if he has no idea what it is?

“They’ll be lots of cameras, Q,” your voice quivers.

He hums, urging you for more.

“I don’t want to be photographed tonight,” you say.

His lips part as he gets more and more concerned. That doesn’t explain it. At all. His head goes into a full assessment mode.

This is most likely not about being seen with him. You’ve been photographed with him in several Canucks’ events. You’ve never minded that. Even when you two have gone out, there are fans who purposely get you in their shots. In those occasions, he always convinced said fans to delete the picture when you were uncomfortable, tugging on his sleeve as a silent confirmation of what you felt.  

Most of the time, you don’t really care about it, especially when you are all dressed up. Like you are now. Before you left the house, you were so proud of how you did your hair and makeup. He looks over your whole appearance. Definitely beautiful. You’re wearing a dress that looks so good on you, especially with that generous slit. It exposes your thigh so much when you’re sitting and he’s eating it up. He almost jumped you when you first showed it to him. Hell, even now, he wants to jump you. Blood rushes down his cock, unable to stop his hand to slide up your thighs, getting closer and closer to your—

‘Not the fucking time, Quinn,’he scolds himself.

He doesn’t understand the problem. Why do you not want to be photographed tonight? Do you not want to attend the gala? If you’re not comfortable going, then so be it. He can drive you back home. It doesn’t matter if he’s already running late. He’ll do it for you. You’re the most important thing in his life. He’ll do it.  

“Wanna head back?” he silently asks, leaning closer, unconsciously sliding his palm up and up your thighs until he almost grazes the lace you’re wearing.

“No, I…” You bite your lip that’s painted with a perfect shade of muted red that compliments your skin. The action makes Quinn’s mouth water. You sigh, looking away. “Do you really think I want to go home? Why are you dense today?”

What are you talking about—

Then you do it, tugging his hand closer so that the side of his finger gets into contact with your drenched panties.

Oh. Oh.

He’s not projecting?

“Just don’t want them to see how horny I am. Isn’t it obvious on my face?” You continue.

No. Not at all. You’re just so pretty. Quinn shakes his head, a bit too roughly to emphasize his disagreement and to clear his head from the lust that’s griping him in a chokehold. His breath hitches when he finally notices how your blush is deeper now than a few seconds ago, how your eyes keep peering around—more of assessing the windows of his car—it’s all tinted heavily except the windshield—how you bite your lips at the isolated parking spot, how your pupils are blown out.

Then he realizes that you didn’t whimper because you’re anxious. You’re horny. That’s fucking hot.

Admittedly, he feels stupid, for having you blatantly spell it out for him. He normally doesn’t need you to. He knows you like the back of his hand. He just really thought he’s fucking horny again. He always is.

Now, his cock stirs when you keep your gaze on him, looking up him through your lashes, your lips slightly pouting, your hand still playing with your pendant. He feels your legs spread more, inviting him to touch you, so he does. The softness of the wet lace sends shivers down his spine. His dick hurts.

“Hop on the back,” Quinn murmurs, barely holding himself back from ripping your dress to shreds.

Your lips curve into a smile, but like the tease that you are, you shift, kicking your legs over his lap. You say, “Take my heels off first.”

It takes all of him not to pant as he unclasps your left heel, his palms burning from your heated skin, absently discarding them on the dashboard. He can’t focus on your heels at all when your legs are bare from the dress. Your soft and silky skin feels so divine under his touch. When he takes the heel off, he can’t help but trace his thumb on your arch, pressing. A moan escapes you, your head tipping up as he massages the particular spot along the arch that you make him rub every night.

“Oh, that feels good,” you pant, gasping as he makes quick work with your other heel, dragging his touch on your skin. “Quinn,” you say in a breathless moan.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, my Love.”

“You’re the one—oh my gosh, Quinn!” you writhe as Quinn kisses your ankles then your heels, making sure to lick for ever kiss. When he softly brings up your feet, he moves to kiss the inside arch of your left, but you pull away. “Okay. Calm down, sir.”

Sir?

How can you call him sir and expect him to calm down?

Fuck calming down.

A rumble escapes him as he tries to kiss your arch, but you basically kick him by his shoulder and crawl over the center console, leaving him all flabbergasted. Protests tease the tip of his tongue as he turns around, his hand gripping the passenger seat, but they die down at the sight of you pulling your dress up to your hips. You slide your fingers down the wet seam of your panties.

“What are you waiting for, Q?” You taunt, baring your pussy by slipping your panties to the side. “I’m already here.”

Oh, you shouldn’t have done that. Everything blurs past Quinn’s head. One moment he is undoing his seatbelt and basically lunges into the back seat, the next he is kissing you so deeply that you are whining, rubbing his erection against your sopping wet pussy.

“Your pants are getting—

He cuts you off because he doesn’t give a shit. He wants you to make a mess on him. The thrill of him wearing your arousal just makes him harder. He wants you on him. That’s not too much to ask for, is it? He doesn’t care about how wet his pants are getting. He’s also spilling pre-cum inside his briefs. Besides, he’s wearing a dark suit anyway.

He kisses you like he wants to devour you because he truly does. He hooks one of your legs over his arm, lifting and spreading you wider, his knee planting on the seat for leverage, as he humps you harder. He bets he can make you come just from this. He already did it before. For countless times. He always ends up coming in his pants. He’s used to it by now, but he prefers coming inside of you so you can be full of him during the event.

With that, he quickly undoes his belt, tugging his pants down, hissing when your hand wrap around his cock the moment it’s free. When your thumb swipe over his slit, coaxing a bead of pre-cum out him, he is already panting like a starved dog. Then you guide him to your pussy.

“Fuck,” he curses as he sinks into your cunt, doesn’t stop until he’s fully inside you. Your slick and quivering pussy feels so good. You always feel so fucking good.

“Quinn, please,” you plead, writhing and clutching his shoulders. “Kiss me.”

Your wish is his command. He kisses you. Hard. He harshly nips your lips, tasting the sweetness of you combined with your lipgloss—or whatever it is, it’s fucking shiny.

When he can’t get enough, he licks the seam of your lips, shivering at the feel of your slight tremble, at every puff of air coming from your mouth. Then he slips his tongue past your awaiting lips. He groans at how your flavor fully intensifies, drowning any sense left in him.

He just wants to kiss, fuck, and hold you.

He needs it.

One taste of you isn’t enough.

He needs you to come around him until you can’t stop. He fucking needs it. Maybe he can just drive you both home. Fuck the event—

“This gala is important,” you whisper into his lips.

‘Did he say that outloud?’ he thought, groaning,“I know.” He ruts into you faster. “I just need you.”

“You always need me,” you say so smugly.

Quinn agrees. Forever and always. He needs you. You keep him grounded when he’s getting beat up from all the game losses or all the media shitshow he experienced. You make him live for so much more than just hockey in this place so far away from his family. You give him another home with you. You made him feel loved and cherished, wanted and yearned.

As much as he does with you.

But, alas, this Canucks event is truly important. It’s a fundraiser where he, as a captain of the team, needs to attend and he’s already late. As if on cue, his phone rings, breaking the calmness of the situation. He needs to pick up the pace to satiate you. Yet both of you choose to ignore it, because there’s no reason to rush.

Before Quinn would be beating himself for not being punctual, you changed that. You taught him that things in life must be savored.

Things being you and you and you.

Just you.

Every intimate moment with you is important to him. Whether it’s in the bedroom where you both talk until you two falls in a deep slumber in each other’s arms, or in a café where you drink at least two cups of coffee—while he barely drinks his tea—and feeds the both of you small bites of cake, or in the movie where you’re basically glued against his side as you watch the film with extremely wide eyes, or the park where you two bask under the sun while you eat the picnic you either had Quinn make or order, or just you two sitting in his car as you two people-watch while rambling about how your days are. Whether it’s casual moments or sexual. Like how you two always seem to take at least five minutes in a restroom cubicle for a quickie, or a sudden hotel visit because going home will take longer than a check-in, or maybe a quick make-out session.

Every moment with you is locked safely in his head.

No one can take it away from him.

Nothing can.

Every single one is a notch in his soul. He’ll carry it until the day he dies, until he gets reborn, until he finds you in that new life, so he can collect more notches that he will carry over to another life. Then again. Over and over again.

Quinn fucks you harder, kissing you to convey all his love for you. His hand slips between you two so he can flick and toy your clit with his thumb, as he drives his cock against that spongy spot that has your back arching, has you screaming into his lips. Your whines are music to his ears. He needs you to come.

A flash of movement catches his attention. Somebody just parked in the other side of the column, but it doesn’t deter Quinn from fucking you. Not one bit. Not when he’s inside of you. If only he can live inside your pussy for every second in his fucking life, he will. 

He feels amused when you part from him to breathe. You yelp when you notice the person get out of the car, barely looking over the car that’s probably moving with your tryst. Your hand comes up to his shoulder to give him a slight push, but he will never fucking stop. Sweat drips down your temple, your cheek, your jaw, and Quinn already there to lick it up. His tastebuds explode with the saltiness of it. He loves it. He needs more, so he dips his head to your neck, so he can lick up the sheen of sweat forming on your skin.

He’s just so fucking greedy over you.

He can’t help himself.

Your pussy clenches around him. Your thighs quiver around his hips, his other hand pushes one to spread you wider as he presses right over your clit with the other, teasing the small bundle of nerves, until you come. Every pulse, every clench. He feels everything as he fucks you through it.

He needs you to come at least three more times. He needs—

“I need your cum right now, Quinny,” you demand, grabbing him by his nape, making him stare straight into your beautiful eyes. “Now. I need you. Please. Please. Please.”

Oh, the chokehold you have on him.

You have him coming right there like someone’s perfectly trained to your every plea.

“Fuck, fuck,” he grunts, gritting his teeth for every thrust to take every spurt of his hot cum deep inside you, gripping your thighs so tightly that he is living hand imprints onto your flesh. The tiny moan escaping you makes him come harder as you clench around him. When he’s done, he’s spent a moment kissing your shoulder, collarbone, up your jaw and finally your lips. “So good, my Love. Maybe—”

His phone goes off, signaling that there’s another call.

While he rolls his eyes, you chuckle at him, truly pushing him off. Your voice is light as you say, “Later, Quinny.”

Quinn grumbles, getting annoyed that he needs to get off you. He needs to because he falls into the temptation of fucking you again. Still, he does it, getting absolutely hypnotized by the cum that spills out. No, actually. Maybe you two can get another round—

And his phone just fucking rings once more.

“Damn it,” he curses, quickly leaning over to center console to get the small bag you brought, getting his phone along the way. He ignores the missed calls that are piling up as he hands over the bag. He quickly types a text, “Will be there in 15-20 minutes.” Then he turns it in ‘Do not Disturb’.

He watches you start to clean up. You have this satisfied grin that makes him feel so fucking giddy. It doesn’t faze him when you playfully throw a fresh wet wipe for him to clean his dick. He absently does it to appease you, plus he doesn’t want you to be the only one fixing yourself when he’s looks as freshly fucked. However, he makes sure that he only does half-assed job before he tucks himself in. He’s not lying when he wants your cum on him.

Then he helps you with brushing your hair. Clumsily. He honestly doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he just does it, because you handed him the brush.

He’s totally mesmerized at how beautiful you look while you powder your face then while you put on your lip things—totally a balm and gloss. So utterly beautiful that he has to swallow the urge to ask for another round, because if he doesn’t, you two won’t be leaving the car for an hour or two or three.

With the way that you’re smiling, you know exactly what’s going on his head.

When your eyes dart towards his crotch, your grin turning into a smirk. “You might be the one who shouldn’t be photographed right now, Quinn.”

Then you laugh, a mix of a giggle and a chuckle.

His chest tightens as his heart pounds harder in his chest.

He wonders if he can survive the gala when he’s fucking hard and sensitive again.

He wonders how many times will you let him fuck you in the restroom when he can no longer bear it.

He wonders.

[rexscanonwife]

Ugh I'm watching Arthur Christmas again (of fucking course) and HOW IS ARTHUR SO SWEET!!! HE'S ACTUALLY THE BIGGEST SWEETHEART EVER HE'S JUST TRYING TO MAKE EVERYONE HAPPY AND EVERYONE SO MEAN TO HIM

[eraserbread]

satoru gets nanami drunk after an especially long mission, and leaves u to deal with his neediness :(( poor baby

nanami comes back home and you're laying on your side in bed, asleep, but jolted awake at the sound of the distant front door. the nightstand clock tells you it's a few minutes to midnight, and nanami always clocked out at 6.

typically.

he doesn't hesitate finding his way to you, understanding that if you're not waiting up for him, you'd be asleep. and, he was right. except, you're sitting up, blinking sleep away when he pushes open the door.

you can tell he's not all there - it takes him a second to catch his footing and notice you watching him.

"you weren't waitin' for me." he's slurring his words ever so slightly, letting them melt into each other. "what's wrong with you?"

"nothing." you whisper, giving him your sweetest, softest tone. "come on and come to bed, baby." you nod him forward, not like he could see you well with the lights on. you really didn't want to get out of bed - already wrapped nicely in your sleep clothes and content where you are.

seems kento has other ideas. he flicks on the light and leaves you to bear the harshness. you cover a palm over your eyes, hissing under your breath.

"really?" you whine, rubbing the assault from your droopy lids as he walks to the bed.

"somethin' wrong?"

you bite your lip, wanting to tell him to fuck off but extremely wary. you don't think he's been in such a state in... years, now that you're thinking about it.

"you weren't there... so i gotta- i have to take this off all myself."

you squint trying to make out what he's saying, but he's trying to toe off his shoes, stumbling in the process but catching himself pretty quickly. tomorrow, you'd scold him to hell for tracking them into your bedroom. tonight, you don't care. you just want him next to you.

but, it is annoying being woken up and forced to watch kento try and take off his shoes. "just take your shoes off and come to bed."

"did i tell you, that soup you made last night... fantastic." he mutters lazily, slipping into bed with his shoes still on. if he was sober, he'd see your eye twitch manically. he's so fucking stubborn.

but, he's being sweet ...kinda? right now, so you swallow that irritation and lean into him. like always, you start at the button at his neck, flicking it loose and moving down to his tie. it's been loosened already, making it easier to pull and slide off. under your busy fingers, nanami lays back on his propped arm, eyes shut.

so spoiled...

"shoes, ken." you so helpfully, sweetly remind him. to no fucking avail. instead, he leans into your exposed collarbone and starts kissing you. it's a specific kiss - a kiss that means 'this won't end anytime soon'

though you roll your eyes, you let him. your body is so fucking used to this, now, that all it takes is his shaky hand on your thigh to get you going.

and, you're going. you crane your neck for him, swallowing down want as his clumsy lips take to you like a cat drinking milk. he's stuck there -- fixated and happy lapping little love marks into your skin with a hand fiddling at the crotch of his work pants. he's restrained by a belt, two buttons, and a zipper, and his drunken state couldn't fathom undoing it all.

the first moan you give him has him pulling away, blinking up at you with reddened eyes.

so, he looks at you and asks - no, tells you. "help?"

and you fold.

his shoes still on and all, you climb over his lap, scooting down just enough to tug and pull at his belt. you're sitting just under his beaming erection, giving it a little push when you pull open his zipper. under you, he's covering his red face with his hand, moaning from your touch and presence alone. it's obscene - uncharacteristic. you love it.

"so pretty... pretty n soft... pretty, too. can't look at you or I'll wet my pants."

"you're crazy," you mumble, pulling his arm from his face and bringing it to yours to slip his finger between your lips. he gets the hint, taking control of his arm as he strokes over your chin, letting your fingers work your silk shirt away around your back.

he's dragging across the jagged edge of your teeth, pressing into your canines just to feel a bit of pain. if he opened his eyes, he'd short circuit, luckily he opens them as soon as you're dropping your shirt. then, you're showing all of you to all of him, and he can't do anything else but slap another hand over his eyes, whining dejectedly and blushed to the core.

"kento, look at me," you deadpan, tired enough to just roll over and sleep, but intrigued enough to keep pushing him.

"so hot."

you claw at his thick hand, nearly begging for his eyes to take you hostage. "hey."

"please... suck it..." he mutters, then stuffs his teeth with his fist, seething out sharp breaths as your fingertips find his skin just over his waistband. the request takes you back.

"you stopped when we got married... always wanted to ask you why but... please..."

you don't speak, you can feel more wet words on his tongue that you know he wants to say.

"please, baby girl... please, doll... the second I wake up 'm gonna buy you that silver necklace with my initial you've been wantin'... or I've been wantin' for you. just kiss 'm, please. so good..."

you have no idea what's he's going on about, but you like the sound of it. you like the sound of your nicknames twirling off his smooth, drunken tongue. so, you lean down to kiss them away, tasting the tang of drink on his supple skin.

he kisses you back just as eagerly, groping your chest in his hand as if it'd bring him down to earth again.

"i stopped because i don't think i'm very good at it." you laugh, taking it upon yourself to sit up and tug his briefs down past his hips. he's a mess - work clothes falling off the bone and you all over his face. he tastes like your chapstick now, and you catch little kitten licks poking from his lips just to study it.

"just kiss him like you're kissin' me."

then, you grab the base of his flushed cock, and he arches his back, a dramatic, uneasy 'ah-' coming from his throat. that really takes you aback - you've never heard such a noise come from your insanely composed spouse.

"don't... give it pronouns, weirdo."

"well, 's not a she."

and for the first time ever, you find yourself pressing your palm to his lips to shut him up. then, kissing over your knuckles, you watch his striking hazel eyes shiver and fall shut. you're so fucking in love it's crazy.

then you give him what he wants.

even though it feels unfamiliar, you drop your head, fist working his happy, dripping erection into oblivion as he whines and cries for you. it's when your lips kiss over the head, focusing your tongue in the slight dip, he cums. all over your face.

you're definitely taken aback, letting him have his moment, but you're so flushed and kinda agitated, yet always in love with him. he's a shaking, crying mess -- actually, crying tears. it's absurd. you'd remember this moment long after you've died.

even covered in cum, he still pulls you back, attacking your lips in a hot kiss you're not prepared for. seems like that release has him coming back to himself, because the grip he has on the back of your neck is not nice. you wouldn't be surprised, and you wouldn't mind, if you saw a bruise there in the morning.

when he comes to his senses, he pins you down face first into the mattress, kissing all over your neck and back as he fucks you lazily. he's so slow, it's serene. you can feel every dip of his cock, every vein as it drags against your sensitive, spasming walls. you both are so wet, begging for more, begging for each other.

it's how he makes you cum for him, with his sloppy, lazy ass thrusts and the wet kisses he leaves on your stained skin. there's cum drenched in these bedsheets, and if you weren't so fucked out and tired, you'd kick him out and call him inconsiderate.

tonight, you don't care. you fall asleep tucked under your man, barely able to breathe, let alone move. he'd suffocate you, at this rate.

but,

you don't care...

read part 2? <3

[isasweetie]

in which you’re forced into having a talk with your ex-boyfriend, rafe cameron, on the boat ride to morocco.

being a pogue and rafe cameron’s ex was not easy. although you dated shortly before he killed peterkin, and you were sure he barely even remembered your favourite colour, seeing him blatanly disrespect you and his friends, and go down a path you tried so hard to prevent him from, was hard to watch. but now he’s picked himself up since ward died. you thought you had another chance to at least be on good terms. sending flowers and a card to tanneyhill when ward died, smiling at him when you’d see him around. it didn’t work, he still hated you and your friends.

fortunately, he redeemed himself ever so slightly by volunteering to take the pogues to morocco. rafe had to find chandler groff, you guys wanted the blue crown. it was perfect.

until jj punched him, that is. he knocked him out cold. with a scolding “jj!” coming from majority of the pogues, including you, jj carries him down into the downstairs washroom and ties his wrists to a pole. they don’t trust him, which is fair. you don’t either — you shouldn’t, anyway.

rafe was down there quietly for a mere half hour until he woke up with a groan from his head hitting the ground earlier, followed up with yelling once he realizes he was stuck down there.

all touching your noses and saying ‘not it’ the minute pope suggests someone going down there to check on him, you’re the unlucky one who said it last. shutting up your protests, john b gently coaxes you downstairs, saying things like, “you used to mack on him”, “this is good, you know him”, “he won’t hurt you,” john b leaves you downstairs once you make it to the door of the bathroom. knocking gently, you timidly ask, “can i come in?”

there’s no answer. you can picture him. wrists tied, brows furrowed, eyes closed tightly as his head leans against the wall and towards the ceiling. his gorgeous stressed face. you slowly open the door, peeking your head in. “hi,” you say gently, timid around the scary and aggressive man you have the curse of calling your ex.

“…hey,” rafe says, voice rough as he shuts his eyes tight.

unsure what to say, you awkwardly stand there and stare down at him. “um, i brought asprin,”

“right, right, like i can fuckin’ swallow it. what, you gonna throw it in my mouth like a.. seal or something?” sassy, his upper lip lifts a bit as he thinks about it and isn’t very fond of the idea.

a second of silence as you figure out what to say. “…um, ill just set it down here,” you say, putting the container down beside him. “sorry about your head.”

“yeah, uh, your little boyfriend can’t control his fists, huh?”

“…not my boyfriend,” you correct softly, though you’re not sure why you feel the need to tell him that. “but no one really.. trusts you, rafe, so you kind of brought this on yourself—“

he quickly interrupts you. “bullshit. you know why that’s bullshit? because i was helping. who got you this boat, huh? me. i did. rafe. i’m the reason that you guys aren’t swimming, or some shit, to north africa. i’m being helpful and understanding, and this is what i get. you think that’s fair?” when you’re stood there in silence at his sudden raised voice, he repeats, “you think that’s fucking fair, y/n!?” he kicks a can in anger.

it’s like you’re his girlfriend again as you sit down next to him instantly instead of running. you get deja vu to the time three years ago when he was high on coke and got kicked out of the house. everyone ignored him except for you. “..um, okay, i’m gonna give you some asprin,” you say softly. “help your head. open,” you tell him, grabbing a pill as he gives you a look but opens his mouth. you pop it in his mouth and he dry swallows. “there.”

you two share a look. you don’t think it’s a bad look by any means. he looks frustrated still, but there’s an underlying gentleness in his eyes, as if he registers you’re still the same girl you were when you two were together. “…and, um, for the record, i don’t think it’s fair that you’re down here. you helped us, thats.. nice.”

the word ‘us’ when referring to you and the pogues makes him feel weird. “i don’t get why you hang out with them,” he mutters as he looks at the ground. “tried so fucking hard to keep you away from them when we were.. together.”

“i know,” you whisper, your gaze dropping as well, to his tied wrists. you feel awful. “trust me, your warnings still play in my head when i’m with them sometimes,”

“you remind me of sarah.” he says. you’re not sure what that means.

“you hate sarah,”

“nah, nah— i don’t hate her. hate who she’s turned into,” he adjusts himself. “she makes me sad. i’m sad for her, alright? she had so much potential.“ he shrugs. “but there’s no saving her. she’s in too deep,” he looks back up at you again. “i think there’s saving you, though,”

“…this is weird, rafe,”

“how?” he asks.

“because in the years we’ve been broken up, you’ve never talked to me about this. feels like it’s a… trick or something,”

“it’s not a trick,” he assures, voice still rough. “look, i’m out half a mill, i’m tied up in a bathroom, i’m probably gonna.. die or something. i got nothing to lose, may as well tell you my concern,”

“um, i appreciate it,” you say gently, unsure how to respond. “and i’m gonna go back upstairs.”

“hey— no, woah, woah, woah,” he stops you quickly. “stay. okay?”

“i should go up and help with dinner, though—“

“no, stay. i— i want you to stay, okay? i don’t wanna be down here alone, and i want you away from the pogues,”

he doesn’t wanna be alone. you feel bad for him all over again, nodding gently as you sit back down beside him. you always were so good for rafe.

you’re not sure how long you’ll be down here with him. maybe until it’s late at night and he’s asleep. so gently, after about five minutes of silence, to ease some of the tension and pass the time, you murmur a, “truth or dare?”

rafe just smiles.

[greengoblinswifey]

My Winner- Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

warnings- unprotected sex, angry sex, creampie, daddy kink, slight argument/angst, fingering, face fucking, choking, ass slapping, degrading kink, praise kink, slight spoiler for s4 ep 1(takes place during s4 ep 1)

A/N: I haven’t written smut on here in so long but after watching the first episode of s4, i had to😛He looked so hot. Requests are open!

Cheering quickly transitioned into worry as JJ easily overtook Rafe in the dirt bike race. You didn’t want to doubt your boyfriend but for a moment it seemed as though he wasn’t going to win— and then he didn’t.

“Shit!” you screamed, as Rafe’s poor attempt of bumping the Pogue’s bike caused them both to come crashing down. It took everything out of you not to run over to him before the race was over.

“Oh my god, are you okay,” you asked, helping your boyfriend from the sand as the crowd ran over to Topper.

As much as you wanted to scold him for endangering himself and someone else, you held your composure.

Rafe was seething, but anything was better than JJ or John B winning the Enduro.

Before driving him home, Rafe and his sister Sarah had a squabble with him accusing her of killing their father. It wasn’t your place to interrupt but you looked at Sarah with apologetic eyes, dragging your boyfriend away before he said anything more hurtful.

“I don’t fucking care,” he mumbled, still seething from losing the race and the incident with Sarah.

“Oh I know you don’t, but how can you say that to your own sister? You know she’s grieving too right? How can you accuse her of killing your father?” He didn’t answer, the grip he had on your thigh getting more painful as you approached Tannyhill.

The door was barely closed before your boyfriend pushed you up against it, his hand around your neck.

“I’ve had a shitty day seeing those fucking Pogues and losing that race, and I don’t need your lecturing making it any worse. I’m gonna take you right here, right now.”

Unable to get a word in, he smashed his lips against yours, his hands going to your ass and squeezing. While you wanted to discuss what happened further, there was no way he’d allow that before he let his anger out. Not that you were complaining.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” he uttered, his hand swirling your clit with the other hand still around your neck, “you love seeing me all worked up.”

“Maybe a little bit.”

He found the sweet spot on your neck as his skilled fingers swirled your clit, rubbing rough circles and sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body. A gasp escaped your lips as he slipped two fingers inside your pussy, giving you no time to adjust.

“Please,” you moaned, not even sure what you were begging for but his fingers felt too good inside you. The look on his face was almost enough to make you cum. The buzz cut, the dazed, lustful look in his eye as he released your neck from his kisses and stared at you.

“I can feel you just clenching around my fingers, so fucking close, cum for me slut,” he demanded. His thrusts sped up and his thumb rubbed circles on your clit, causing you to release all over his hand.

“That’s a good fucking slut, now, my turn.” He forced you to your knees, stripped himself and you of your clothes leaving you both bare. His cock was painfully hard in front of you, thick with the head glistening.

He tapped your mouth, you already knew what was about to happen. Rafe groaned as he shoved his cock down your throat, bucking his hips and shuddering, savoring how good your mouth felt around him.

“Gonna fuck your throat okay? If you want me to stop, don’t hesitate to tap my thigh.” You looked up at him and nodded, naked on your knees with his cock filling your mouth.

He held your hair in his hands, snapping his hips forward and fucking your throat. Your nails dug into his thighs, trying not to gag and focusing on the feeling of him so deep in your throat.

“God, look at you, on your knees just taking whatever I give you,” he moaned at the sight below him.

Humming around his cock, you used more tongue, swirling it around the head as he pulled out all the way and slammed into the back of your throat.

“I love it when you moan around my cock like a little whore,” he chuckled in between moans.

You could feel how close he was getting as his brutal thrusts sped up and his cock throbbed in your mouth. “Get ready, open up that fucking throat, get ready to swallow every drop of my cum, bitch,” he moaned.

You did as you were told and continue suckling on his dick, his pace faltering as his cum shot down your throat.

“Fucking hell, good girl, that’s my baby,” he breathed, slowly thrusting to make sure you swallowed every drop.

He lifted you up and you wrapped your legs around him, your lips meeting in a sloppy kiss as he tasted the remnants of himself on your tongue.

You opened your eyes as Rafe threw you unto his bed, his cock still hard and ready for your dripping pussy. His eyes were locked on yours as he slowly inched inside you and for a moment you thought you were about to have sweet, loving sex.

“Daddy,” you gasped, feeling him snap harshly against you, his cock practically kissing your cervix. Sweet, loving sex was clearly not in the works.

“Fucking take it,” he whispered, sending shivers throughout your body. His pace was brutal and the headboard knocked against the wall continuously as he fucked you hard.

“Mm, daddy, feels so good,” you cried, his cock going in and out of you roughly, making you see stars and you hadn’t even cum yet. Rafe wrapped his hand around your neck, and used the other to pinch your nipples, making you feel even more ripples of pleasure.

“Fucking cum all over daddy’s cock, now,” he demanded. His lips captured yours as you shuddered under him, your climax overtaking your body, but he didn’t stop. He continued fucking you hard through your climax, your tits bouncing, your body and the bed moving upwards, roughly.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, so fucking hot when you cum for me. Now get on all fours.”

The loss of his cock inside you made you whine, but you did as you were told, going on your hands and knees, arching your back just the way he liked it. “What an obedient slut, good girl,” he cooed.

Rafe pressed your face into the bed as his rough thrusts began, this angle making him feel even deeper inside your pussy.

“Fuck,” he moaned, the sound going straight to your pussy. You absolutely loved when he was vocal.

“Mhm, yeah,” you moaned, as he slapped your ass and dug his nails into your hips, slamming you hard against his cock. He pulled you back by your neck, your back arching off his body, his pace never faltering. “Rub your clit for me baby.” You obeyed, rubbing your clit as he fucked you from behind, moaning in your ear.

“Daddy, gonna cum,” you managed to croak out. This made him speed up his thrusts and he rolled his hips, continuously hitting the sweet spot inside you as you lost yourself on his thick cock.

“Good girl, that’s it, feels good doesn’t it? I know it does baby, I know,” he cooed, “but daddy isn’t done with you yet.”

Your body fell limp on the bed and he lifted your hips, pressing you into the bed as he chased his own orgasm. You screamed, the pleasure almost too much having cum three times already.

“You can take it baby, be a good girl and take what I give you.”

You nodded frantically, rubbing circles on your needy clit as his thrusts got harder and sloppier, the sound of skin slapping echoing throughout the room. With a loud moan, you squirted on his cock, surprising you both and making Rafe spurt his cum inside you almost immediately. He continued fucking you through both your highs as your legs shook and you began seeing stars.

He collapsed on the bed beside you and you snuggled into him, your body aching from the treatment he gave you a minute prior. You lay in silence, only the sounds of your heavy breathing filling the room.

“You’re my winner, Rafe.”

He smiled and kissed your forehead. You always knew what to say to make him feel better.

“I may not have won but as long as I did in your eyes.”

[baby-yongbok]

Home By 10

Boyfriend!Bang Chan x afab!Reader

✦ Genre: Smut [MDNI] - dom!Bang chan x sub!Reader ✦ WC: 2k ✦ Summary: "I'll have her home by 10, sir" turns into "She isn't coming home tonight" ✦ CW: Unprotected sex, kind of rough sex, finger rimming (very light thumb in the ass action. very light), fingering, ass slaps, name used: Chan is referred to as Chris, baby/babygirl, my girl

✦Masterlist✦

Chris who meets your parents for the first time when you're staying at their place while your apartment gets some repairs done. 

Chris who your dad says has the firmest handshake he's ever felt and easily has him smiling seconds after meeting him. 

Chris who laughs when you nag at your dad to just let the two of you leave. He's still striking up conversation with Chris about his major and his plans for after university. Your boyfriend just smiles and answers, pushing up his glasses a bit while excitedly explaining all of the things that he has planned for after graduation in a few months. 

Chris who your mother keeps saying is so much better than your ex in looks and manners. You scold her for it when she mumbles it to you for a third time, hoping that your boyfriend didn't hear her but one glance at him tells you that he heard her loud and clear. 

Chris who smiles brightly when he shakes your father's hand and declares a soft “I'll have her home by 10, sir”. You almost believed it when he said it. Almost. But he's got your dad fooled. Hook, line, and sinker. 

Chris who opens his car door for you just as he always does. He guards the top of your head to make sure that you don't hit it and closes the door behind you. Just like he always does.

Chris who relaxes into the dark leather of his seat when your father closes the door. He sighs, smiling at you just as brightly as he did earlier. “Baby” He coos, rubbing his hand over your thigh. “Missed you.”

Chris who drives you all the way to his shared apartment for some alone time since his roommate is out tonight. He drops his keys onto his dresser and kicks his room door shut behind the two of you with ease. 

You sit on his bed, watching as he slips off his loose button up shirt, his hat and glasses. That's not the same man that was standing in your living room. “Well don't you look different?” You tease and he smiles, it's bright but his eyes are dark. “Do I?”

Chris who lays back on his bed and pulls you into his lap. “So what was it that your mom was saying?” He asks while playing with the lace at the hem of your mini skirt. “Something about me and your ex, right?” 

He smiles, enjoying the reaction he gets out of you. “You weren't supposed to hear that.” He leans up and kisses away your cute pout while lightly squeezing the plush of your thighs. 

Chris who only lets you deny answering him one more time before he stops asking and starts demanding an answer. “Baby, just tell me exactly what she said.” You huff a sigh, arguing that he knows exactly what she said. 

Chris tsks, tilting your chin up so that you can catch his dark gaze perfectly. “Ah ah ah, I wanna hear it come out of your mouth baby. Tell me what your mother said.” His hand slides up under your skirt, disappearing under the lace.

Chris who coos so sweetly when you finally comply “That's it, babygirl. So she thinks that I'm better than your ex. Better mannered, better looking, Is that right?” You pant in his lap, barely able to answer as his fingers work smoothly inside of you. He had his methods of getting you to talk.

“Words, sweetie, talk to me.” You moan out a broken 'yes', nodding with your eyes closed tight. “Do you agree, baby?” He scissors his fingers inside of you then presses up into that spot, that one fucking spot. “Do you think that I'm better?”

Chris who has you moaning 'yes' over and over again as he curls his fingers into your sweet spot. He's gripping your hip, guiding you to ride his fingers while he kisses deep red marks into your chest. “Yeah? My girl thinks I'm better? What am I better at, huh?” He whispers, nibbling on the shell of your ear. “Kissing you? Touching you? Fucking you? Tell me, baby.”

Chris who flips the two of you over and presses the side of your face into the mattress with a fist full of your hair. He scratches at your scalp with one hand while the other flips your skirt up. He groans at the view of your ass, landing a hard slap on each cheek. “You need me to show you that I'm better, baby? Need me to remind you who's been making you scream on their cock? You want it? Tell me you want it.”

Chris who pulls your panties down your legs and sniffs them before throwing them onto his nightstand. You aren't getting those back, you know that. He lands a harsh slap everytime you whine for him to fill you. He spreads your cheeks, spits down onto your tight asshole and spreads the slick down to your pussy with his thumb, cursing at the sight. 

Chris who teases your pussy with the head of his cock. He runs the leaky tip over your clit and up through your folds just to push against your entrance and repeat the process. You groan and moan his name, begging him with such a sweet tone that he nearly gives in. “Be patient, baby.”

Chris who sinks into you just a bit just to pull right back out with a distressed groan. He watches the way your cunt stretches around him, taking each inch smoother than the last. He teases you over and over again until he gives you everything in one smooth go. “Look at that pussy take my cock, fuck, baby.” 

He moans a sweet strangled sound, Something that you could listen to over and over if your own moans weren't so loud in your ears. He spreads your ass again, pressing his thumb over your tight hole and rimming it with the pad of his finger and pressing in just a bit. “So fucking tight.”

Chris who grabs your hips, fingers digging into the plush flesh while he thrusts into you. He watches the bounce of your ass when your skin meets his, he groans at the jiggle of your thighs and the arch of your back. He throws his head back, moaning profanities through gritted teeth. 

“Chris, Chris, baby, harder please please, more.” You're babbling, drooling into the bedding and your boyfriend smiles, it's fucked out and cocky. His tongue dips out of his mouth to lick at the corner of his lips and drives his cock into you at a harsh pace, one, two, three times before stopping and holding you against him. “You gotta earn that shit, baby. You want me to pound you? Want me to fucking ruin your cunt?” All you can do is moan and nod, exhaling shakily. He grabs a fist full of your hair, pulling your head back. “Fuck on me, baby. Ride my cock, lemme see you fuck yourself.”

Chris who holds your hair up into a ponytail while you fuck back onto him, you move your hips in smooth circles as you rise and drop your ass against him. He watches the way you move, the way your ass just keeps fucking bouncing. Your cunt clenches around him, your moans echo through his room and he convinces himself that you've earned a proper fucking.

Chris who lets your hair go, timing the drop of your head to the mattress with the snap of his hips so perfectly that it has you screaming into his comforter. He pulls you forward a bit, changing the angle just enough for his cock to bully your sweet spot. You're unraveling beneath him, moaning, drooling, fucked out and fucking pretty.

Chris is no better above you, he's moaning, grunting, biting his lip and squeezing his eyes shut in a nearly futile attempt to keep his composure. He takes each heavy moan of his name as a queue to give you more and more.

Chris who pulls you up so that your back is to his chest while he's still buried inside you. He smiles that cocky smile when you groan at the position change. His arm hooks around your stomach and his other hand finds purchase around your throat. “Feel that? Feel how deep I am, baby?”

He moves slowly, letting you really feel the way his cock drags along your walls before he resumes his previous pace. He feels like he's in your fucking stomach. It feels like his cock is splitting you open and your clit throbs at the pressure. “Louder, c'mon.” He grunts, squeezing the sides of your throat just enough to give you a head rush. “Don't hold back, baby, louder.”

Chris who can tell by the way your pussy flutters and squeezes him that you're getting close. “Shit, babygirl is gonna cum, yeah? Tell me how much better I am whIle you fall apart on my cock.” You whimper, babbling about how good he's fucks you but nothing you say makes sense. “Can't even fucking talk.” His hand goes from your throat to your chin to turn your head to the side. “Look at me”

Chris keeps his rhythm only faltering for a second when you clench around him. “Whose cock makes you cry like this?” He kisses away a tear as it falls then follows with a soft kiss on your lips. You swallow the spit thick in your mouth and whimper a pathetic ‘yours’. 

“Whose the best fuck you ever had?” He pounds an equally as pathetic ‘you’ from your spit slick lips and he smiles. “Whose cock are you gonna cum on? Hm?” 

Chris who doesn't even let you mumble another pathetic whine before he's bending you in half so that you're face down, ass up for him all over again. His hand stays on the side of your face, keeping you in place while his other hand grabs your hip. You're locked in. His thrusts are brutal, relentless. His black tee is between his teeth as he pounds you. Your screams echo and seep into the neighboring apartment but he doesn't fucking care. 

“C'mon, let me feel you, baby.” He reaches under you, strumming your clit like one of his guitars and you fucking sing like one. You cry out so beautifully that he can't help but harmonize with you. “Chris, Chris, Chris, b-baby m’ cumming.” You scream and he drinks it all up. 

Chris who can barely hold himself together while you tremble beneath him, gushing and creaming on his cock. “Holy shit, you're gonna make me fucking cum. This fucking cunts gonna make me cum.” He's messy, licking drool from the corner of his mouth and taking his turn at becoming a babbling mess. He grunts and thrusts and gets closer and closer to falling apart. 

“Don't you dare waste a fucking drop that I give you, you hear me? Take it all, take all my fucking - shit shit shit, I'm cumming.” He spills into you, eyes rolling back, bottom lip between his teeth and a groan so guttural it makes you moan. “You fucking emptied me, baby, fuck.” 

Chris who pulls out slowly and spreads your cheeks again to see your mixed arousal drip out of your messy cunt. He stuffs it back in with his fingers cooing a teasing warning. “I said don't fucking waste it.” He punctuates his sentence with an ass slap and you jolt at the sting. “I'll just have to keep filling this hole, huh? Gotta fuck you full until you follow the rules.”

He falls into a rhythm of fingering his cum back into you and ‘accidentally’ pulls another orgasm from you. He chuckles, low and seductive as he slips his fingers between his lips to taste the sweet mix. “That's my girl”

Chris who cleans you up. Changes his bedding then cuddles you against his chest. You're still hazy, breathing softly into him while he grabs his phone and unlocks it. “Babygirl” he calls as he holds his phone up and clicks a picture just as you look up. He checks the photo, smiling at how fucked out you look even after he's cleaned you up. 

“I'll send it to you.” He kisses your forehead, locking his phone. "You can show it to your dad when he asks why you didn't come home tonight.”

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[jamminvroomvroom]

let’s go ride.

LN x fem!reader

in which lando keeps getting frustrated and you wanna know why…

hiiiiii here u go! belated love day fic from me to you 💝 love u all, tysm for the love on my last few fics, i’ve had a lot going on lately so i’ve not had very much time to write but when the inspo hits….. shoutout to miss mcrae for dropping lando-coded bangers bc i literally cannot resist. might make a part 2 of all the times they get freaky in a car lmao, lemme know if you want that! likes, comments and reblogs are sooooo appreciated so lemme know what u think xoxox

proofed by my own personal goat @lavenderlando 💖

songs to set the vibes: sports car by tate mcrae, bad guy by billie eilish

warnings: 18+!! minors begone! smut, language, fluff, bit of angst bc lando’s in a mood, friends to lovers, p in v, porn without plot but there is a little bit of plot, bitchy lando

4.2k words

you sit in silence, opening spotify and preparing to fiddle with the bluetooth as he slips into the drivers seat beside you. the car door slams shut and he huffs, jawline taut with annoyance. the hood of his car is surrounded, a million and one cameras pointed at you both as he tries to relax into his chair. the engine roars to life and you side eye him.

“when are you gonna learn, hm?” you try and sound playful, teasing, but it comes out laced with a twang of scolding. lando tenses up even further, turning to glare at you.

“god forbid i go outside.” he snaps.

“give over.” you roll your eyes. “poor me, i’m famous! lando, you can’t get angry when you park in the most high profile spot on the fucking planet and your fans want to worship you.”

“you don’t know what you’re talking about.” he sighs, white knuckles wrapping tighter around the steering wheel.

“don’t i? this has been happening a lot lately.” your voice softens, ever so slightly. “every time i’m seen with you, you lash out.”

“because i don’t want people harassing you, looking at you like some fucking commodity.” lando snarls, steely eyes locked on the supposed car enthusiasts that are slowly backing away from his parking space.

“lando, we’re friends. this has always been a thing. why is it bothering you so much now?”

you wonder if it bothers him for the same reason it bothers you.

he shuts his eyes, collecting himself for a moment. he puts the car in drive and smoothly pulls out of the space, ignores your question. you scowl at him, at this sudden childishness that has overtaken his easygoing manner in the last few months.

“fine. whatever.” you mutter, slumping defeatedly into your seat. you give up on playing music, leaving him to bask in the silence, something he loathed.

lando had switched from his usual self to this stony, irate version of him that you rarely had the displeasure of seeing, from the second you walked out of the restaurant where you’d had lunch. he was reluctant to pose for photos and sign hats, something he usually revelled in, grateful that people even wanted to see him. the swathes of fans that had gathered had irked him for once, but what really boiled his blood was the photographers that seemed to find him no matter where he chose to spend him time. so much for monaco’s privacy laws.

it wasn’t like he cared about himself, either. it was you. the way they leered, leaned close to you while he was distracted with pens being shoved in his face. it was the way their eyes dipped low, whether you were in a tank top or a baggy hoodie. it was the way they spread the false, painful narrative all over the internet that you and lando were together, which drove hoards of losers into your comment section and your DMs just to call you names.

you were not together. as much as it pained him, you were just friends.

he couldn’t exactly explain his overprotectiveness to you without getting himself into a big, tangled mess. you, being the resilient, cool as a cucumber stoic that you were didn’t care what fourteen year olds on the internet thought about you. you weren’t about to let faceless, jobless trolls ruin the friendship that you’d nurtured for years, through ups and downs, thick and thin, race wins and huge losses. but lando, god, it killed him, tore him up inside every time someone so much as looked at you wrong.

“you really don’t get it.” he says, hushed, like he’s telling a secret. you turn to look at him, tearing your eyes away from the glistening view of the marina.

“lando, tell me then. make it make sense because i’ve never seen you behave like this. they love you! least you can do is lose the attitude over some harmless pictures.”

“jesus christ, it’s not the fans! it’s not the ‘harmless pictures’! it’s these fucking creeps that follow us around just to make some money off of my own personal hell. you really don’t get it, because if you did, you’d know that it breaks my fucking heart to see the way people talk about you online, just for being seen with me. it’s my fault that you get harassed, that paps are basically stalking you now.”

he signs of his rant with a sharp inhale, one that seems to suck all of the life out of the car. you melt.

“but lando, it doesn’t bother me. i just wanna be here with you, i don’t care about the rest of it.” you coo softly, reaching over the centre console to grip his forearm.

“and i want you here. i want you with me every fucking second of the day, but i can’t cope. can’t help thinking that one day it’ll all just be too much and you’ll leave me.” he whispers.

“never. never ever ever.” you promise. your belly swirls with emotions, tickled from the inside out by butterflies that threaten to swarm.

lando breathes shakily, warmed through by the hand that rests on his arm as he manoeuvres through the twisty lanes. as he hits traffic and slows, he clocks another photographer looming on the pavement, lens aimed at his windshield. already too annoyed, he aggressively smacks his sun visor down, leaning over the console to reach yours too, pulling it down. he prays it’s enough.

“you need to relax, lan. i’m fine, we’re fine. i promise.” you reassure, but he’s breathing heavily now. “you don’t worry this much when it’s max.” you trail off.

he doesn’t know what comes over him. he spins the car into a sharp u-turn, positively speeding back in the direction you’d just come from. any mention of you and him as a ‘we’ makes him crazy, makes him utterly lose his mind, but something about your sweet, earnest voice bringing him back to reality has left him completely shaken. the sun is setting now, most people clearing out of the underground car park he pulls into to head back to their homes. he has other intentions. you don’t say another word until he pulls into a space at the back of the lot, tucked neatly into a corner.

“what are we doing?”

“need a minute.” lando rasps, forehead resting on his steering wheel, the matte leather pushing his sharp curls back. you trail your eyes over him, the way his chest rises and falls under the sweatshirt he’s wearing, the way his thick fingers curl as his grip continues to tighten.

“i’m jealous. and i’m selfish. and i’m a complete fucking idiot.” lando says, steadily, like he’s reading the news.

“you’re��� you’re jealous? of what?” you’re like a deer in headlights.

“of any other person that gets to lay their fucking eyes on you.”

“what are you saying?” you whisper. the air in the car goes still, frozen. you can’t breathe.

“i’m saying… that you’re mine. and i should have made that a known fact a long time ago.” ever so slowly he looks up at you, and you gasp at the intensity of his stare. he’s gazing at you with complete conviction in his eyes, a whole lot of vulnerability mixed in with the sincerity of his words. “i don’t want anyone else anywhere near you. lose my fucking mind watching the way they look at you.”

“lando…” you trail off, eyes as wide as saucers. is he really saying what you think he’s saying?

“i know this is terrible of me, to do this now, here - to do this at all, to be honest. i know that i have no right to stake some kind of claim on you, and i know that you probably don’t feel the same, but god, i just needed you to know. if you want me to shut the fuck up or leave you alone forever then i totally get it but-“

“oh my god, are you stupid?” you shake your head, still stuck in your state of disbelief, but you muster the coherency to grip the collar of his crewneck, tug him close.

your lips meet hastily, urgently, and every ounce to tension seems to seep out of the car. he moans at the very sensation of you against him, breath caught in his throat when you lace your finger through his hair like you want to mould your faces together, never stop. his brain finally catches up, awestruck as he is, and you trade passion and saliva, bumping noses as you clash chaotically.

“i think we’re both stupid.” he mumbles into your lips. you shut him up with another kiss, fiery and needy, and his hands begin to wander. he smoothes over the back of your jumper until he finds your waist, awkward in the limited space of the front of the car, and skims his hands up until he’s made his way beneath the material and he’s gripping your bare skin.

“too forward of me to ask you to get in the back?” lando pants with a cheeky smile.

“you literally just marked your territory on me, and nearly bit a photographer. i think we’re past ‘forward’.” you deadpan.

“then get in the fucking back.” he grins, devilish and commanding. you do as you’re told, wriggling between the leather until you’re propped up against the backseat. lando follows, sitting beside you, tugs you into his lap like you’re weightless.

you can feel him beneath you, hard and wanting, and you mewl, keen into him. your breaths mingle in the nonexistent space, lips brushing gently.

“this okay?” lando’s lips ghost over yours and you lean forward, just enough to reach him. he pulls back, eyes hooded, teasing, and tuts. “use your words.”

“who knew you were such a bossy boots.” you smirk. “more than okay.”

his eyes glaze over once he has your permission, and he kisses you like you’re the last supply of oxygen on earth. he licks into your mouth, wet and desperate and you whimper as he grazes over the crease of your thigh, toying with the hem of your skirt where it’s ridden up.

“can feel you.” lando groans, pulling away to look between your bodies. “so warm for me, you like seeing me all riled up?”

you nod coyly, lip caught between your teeth, and you swear you see his eyelashes flutter.

“what did i say about words?” lando composes himself enough to tease. you roll your eyes, but you can’t ignore the way heat rolls through your body.

“like when you get all bitchy.” you reply, rolling your hips once.

“bitchy?”

“mhm. always been so easy to toy with.” you whisper, leaning in to nose along the thickness of his neck. you drag your tongue up the vein there, feeling it pulse under your tongue. he smells like his cologne, so him, and it makes you even hotter.

“oh, so you’ve been playing with me?” he chokes out, eyes rolling back in his head at the marks you’re leaving.

“maybe a little.” you hum.

“you liked watching me get angry? pretending to be all sweet and clueless?” lando whispers, the words hanging heavy in the space between you. all you can manage in response is a mischievous smile that twists his tummy.

your hands trail under his sweatshirt, skating over the muscled ripples of his belly, ever so slightly dipping into the band of his sweats. his head lulls back, blindly holding you close while you worship him. he lets you, lets himself have this moment, thinking for so long that it would never come.

“waited so long,” your lips brush over the shell of his ear, tongue grazing the lobe. he descends into a mess of shivers. “needed you to break first. i knew you would.” you croon.

“you’ve been loving this, haven’t you?” lando starts, low and calculating. “bet you’ve been getting off on dressing like a whore for the cameras, watching me suffer.” he pieces together. your resolve cracks. “bad girl.”

the sense of control you’d briefly maintained shatters, a hand around your neck forcing you away from him, preventing your sweet torture. his fingers flex, just above your collarbone, and you swallow at the smirk that seems to engulf his entire face. he looks animalistic, crazed with a feral adoration that leaves you certain that you’re dripping all over his lap.

“i think you’ve had your fun, baby, it’s my turn.”

you whine when he drags you across his lap, back and forth until you’re squirming. his hips rut up into yours, fuelling your desire for every single inch of him.

“please, lando.” you breathe, reaching out to lace your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck.

“let me look at you.” he demands, shutting down your intentions for more. “i’ve waited long enough for this, don’t you think?”

“so have i.” you beg him with your eyes, but give in to him nonetheless. you’re staining his lap, grey sweats darkening as your wetness pools there and he can’t help but buck up into your warmth.

“wanna play with you, baby, see how you like it.” he taunts, bringing two fingers between your legs.

he brushes his knuckles over the obvious damp patch at the crotch of your panties, lip caught between his teeth at what he finds. your soaked through, and he pinches your bundle of nerves just to watch you thrash in his grip.

“i hate you right now.” you spit through gritted teeth, but your hips can’t help but chase his hand.

“doesn’t feel like it.” he kisses you quick, loving the way you lean in for more, but he relaxes against the seat and dips slowly beneath your underwear. “fuck.”

he doesn’t have to work too hard to spread your wetness around, you’re already lathered in it, but he continues to tease, fingers gliding over your clit and through your folds.

“please.” you beg, leaning back to give him as much access as possible.

“what do you want, baby? tell me.” he urges, drawing circles on the swollen bundle of nerves.

“your fingers.”

“you have them.” he barks out a condescending laugh, applying more pressure just to prove his point.

“need them inside of me.” you pant, eyes squeezing shut at his sadistic game between your thighs.

“that’s my girl.” he praises, and you curse, clamping down around him before he even gets the first knuckle inside of you.

“how are you doing this to me?” you think aloud, tears in your waterline already. it all feels far too good for a first time.

“because i know you better than you think i do.” he coos.

lando pulls you flush against him, grinding his fingers deep so that they curl deliciously against your sweet spot. his palm bumps your clit with every twist of digits and he nips over your collarbone. his tongue laves over your skin, tasting the perspiration that gathers as the car steams up around you. you’re suddenly hyper aware of your surroundings, huddled together in the back of his urus in a dimly lit car park. thank god you’d lost the photographers.

“can’t believe we’re doing this.” you gasp, feeling your tummy tighten at the thrill of it all, of feeling your best friend work to please you.

“i knew it would happen. knew that someday i’d get to see you like this, all for me.”

“all for you.” you repeat, drunk on him as you rode his fingers. “feels so good.”

“want you to come for me like this.” lando orders, replacing the heel of his hand with his thumb against your clit. his ministrations are more controlled like this, precise, and you throw your head back in pleasure. his teeth sink in to the base of your neck, sucking softly over the bruising skin, lapping at the mark to soothe it.

“i’m so close, lan.”* you choke, riding his fingers as you near your release.

“c’mon baby, make a mess for me.” he urges, eyes locked intensely on yours. you’re enticed by the sea green storm that swirls in his irises, shrinking as his pupils blow with lust. you can’t help it, can’t delay the inevitable, and you thrash in his arms, wildly bucking your hips against his as you fall apart.

you gush all over his lap, further ruining his sweatpants but he doesn’t bat an eyelid, working you through your orgasm until you’re spent. he’s transfixed by the way your thighs glisten, by the way your release seeps through the material covering his crotch and it makes him throb.

“that’s it baby.” he murmurs, voice low and smooth. you pant, collapsing forwards onto him.

“thank you.” you whisper into his neck, and he laughs softly.

“don’t thank me, silly girl.” he coos into your ear. you pull back just enough to kiss him, taking it slow, giving you a moment to come down from your devastatingly intense high. you’re exhausted, eyes fluttering shut from the exertion, and he tucks sweaty strands of your hair behind your ears. his fingers graze your warmed cheeks, noses bumping and you take him in, carefully studying the lines of his face, the sharp slope of his nose, the flutter of his eyelashes against those ridiculously high cheekbones.

“you’re so pretty.” your voice floats over him like a delicate caress, makes him shiver. he grins at you, enamoured.

“didn’t think our first time would be in the back of my car but i don’t think i can’t wait to get you home.”

“you’ve thought about this?” you ask, bashful. he gazes up at you sheepishly.

“every night before bed.” he jokes, and you shift your hips.

you’re overstimulated, but it does the trick, the playful haze shattering, replaced by thick, charged tension.

“you gonna make that fantasy a reality?”

“yeah. yeah, i am.” he mumbles.

his hands skim your waist, pushing your jumper up as he goes higher and higher, until it’s off, chucked into the footwell. you tear at his sweatshirt until it joins your discarded clothing and explore the bronzed planes of his chest, extra sun-kissed by the trip you’d taken to dubai just a few weeks before. if only you’d known then…

“hurry.” you plead, and he scoffs, adjusting you on his lap just enough to free himself from his sweatpants and boxers, and you gawk down at what’s revealed to you.

it’s big, thick, and you sigh in relief that he’d so thoroughly stretched you out, got you nice and slick for him already.

“gonna take it all for me?” lando taunts, catching your hanging jaw between two firm fingers, forcing you to look at him.

“gonna try.” you reason, breathing shakily as you rise up on your knees. you feel the head of his cock prodding your clit, the sodden tip running along your folds until it catches on your entrance. you both hiss as the contact, his hands steadying your hips.

“you can do it, baby.” lando promises, helps you begin your descent.

“oh my god.” you gasp, sinking down slowly. “dunno if i can take it, lan, you’re so- so…” you trail off, head thrown back far enough that you miss the way he’s smirking up at you.

“c’mon baby, being such a good girl for me, i know you can take it. just a little more.” he goads, pressing each button of your apparent praise kink, and you whine, soft moans tumbling from your lips. a sense of determination becomes you, and you’re aching to take him all the way.

you cry out his name when you’re pressed flush against him, and he soothes circles into your hips, holding you close against his chest. one hand smoothes through your hair, the lace of your bra scratching against his chest as you breathe rapidly.

“well done, baby, knew you could do it.” lando praises, trailing kisses over your face. you quiver in his hold, hips wiggling ever so slightly, and he takes that as a sign. “want me to do the work, hmm? make you feel so good?”

you nod lazily, looking up at him from where your face is smushed against his shoulder, and he lets you break his rule of “words”, softened by how beautiful you look, vulnerable in his strong arms. he starts to move, fucking up into you slowly, feeling you out. you can feel him twitch inside of you, his breath catching in his throat at the feeling of you, tight and warm, enveloped all around him. you roll your hips languidly, meeting his thrusts and you both moan out as the explosion of sensations unfolds between you.

“harder, lando. can take it.” you mumble, glazed over doe eyes looking into his. he tenses up, shaken to the very core by the emotional tether between you, feeling the way it grows even stronger. the one woman he’d wanted since he’d laid eyes on you, the one women he never thought he could have; his heart pounds violently in his chest.

he readjusts your hips, pushing you back so that you’re upright once more, eyes raking hungrily over your flushed body. your skirt is bunched around your waist, panties tugged to the side, cups of your bra barely covering anything anymore. he tweaks a nipple through the lace, paws at your tits until you’re fluttering around him. the cups of your bra are tugged down, resting below your breasts and he swallows hard.

“fuck me, you’re so beautiful.” lando rasps, leaning you back further to perfect the angle.

once he’s satisfied, he bounces you against him, meeting your hips with harsh thrusts, his pace unrelenting. he can see the way you pool around his base, dampening the thatching of hair that decorates his pelvic bone. you seem to chase the friction there, rutting your clit against him. sweet puffs of breath fill his ears, melodic combined with a symphony of your needy whines, continuously intensifying as he fucks you deeper and deeper.

“it’s so good.” you slur, mouth hanging open, totally unhinged from the raw pleasure that he courses through your veins.

“you’re doing so good for me, baby.” he wants to say more, but then he sees it, the way your lower belly seems to protrude with every roll of his hips. “oh, fuck.” he cries out.

“do you see that, baby? see how deep i am?” lando growls, voice rippling through your connected bodies. you glance down, and the first tears start to fall.

“oh my god.” you repeat, nothing else to say, totally braindead at the sight. your cheeks are wet with tear tracks, utterly overwhelmed by the way he’s taking you, so blissful that it hurts.

“you crying for me, baby? do i feel that good?” lando mocks, reinvigorated by the way your tears gather at your collarbone. his hand swipes messily against your throat, swiping them away, but you catch his hand, keeping it there. your eyes lock as your hand squeezes around his, a silent plea. he rocks up into you even harder, hand clamping around you neck slowly, leaving your breathless, liquid heat shooting down your spine. you can’t stop it from hitting you like a ton of bricks, can’t hold back, not when he’s making it hurt so fucking good.

“lando, i can’t- i’m gonna- fuck.” you bellow, falling to pieces around him. he keeps you propped up through your orgasm, plowing into your limp body until you’re so tight around him that he quite literally can’t keep going. he shudders, repeating your name like a godforsaken prayer as his abs flex beneath your shaky hands. you feel him filling you up, shots of warmth painting your insides.

lando lets you collapse into his arms, holding you tight as you both tremble in the silence of the car. condensation rolls down the windows, giving away your frenzied desires. if anyone caught sight of his car, it wouldn’t be hard to do the math.

“gonna let me take you home so we can do that again?” lando laughs, breathing you in. he can feel the way your chest rumbles softly in response, hears your angelic, raspy laugh.

“gimme a sec, don’t think i can move ever again.” you groan, sighing into his chest.

you stay there for a while, basking in it, coming down. he traces shapes into the bare skin of your back; you absentmindedly trace a heart into the window fog.

when you finally manage to redress, it’s dark outside, bright lights casting patterns into the calm midnight of the marina. he holds your hand as he drives up into the heights of monaco, and you stare at the way yours fits so perfectly with his, just like how your head tucked so perfectly into the crook of his neck. you smile out the window and lando smiles at you.

by the time bedtime rolls around, you’re both well and truly exhausted. when you try and wriggle out of his grip, ready to retreat back to the guest room like a wounded animal, lando pouts - pouts! - and holds you even tighter.

“silly girl.” he kisses the words into your hairline, and drifts off to sleep.

-

hehe

-

taglist

lemme know if you wanna be added or removed! any tags that don’t work will be removed xo

@boysthatgovroomvroom @welld0nebaku @thegirlinthefandoms @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne @formulaal

taglist cont. in reblogs. smooches

[tiramissyoucake]

Escape attempt gone wrong (not clickbait)(my husband gets pissed?!?!)

Viltrumite Mark x fem reader, forced marriage, the whole shabang, I know nothing about Viltrum♡ word vomitted, lame fade to black scene because idk how to end this

You see a few ships zip by your windows on some days, you know they don't need ships, so a lot of them were dormant in landing zones.

"What're you thinking about?" Your husband's hands snaked onto your shoulders as his voice reached your ear, a small smile on his face.

"... nothing, I'm just wondering why you have ships since Viltrumites can fly." You noted, Mark hummed. "... honestly? I can't tell you either, maybe it's for longer journeys or cargo." He kissed your cheek gently. "Why? Planning to take one on a joy ride?"

The idea was tempting. "Don't be ridiculous," you scoffed. "I can't fly those."

Later that night, a formal meeting between a few powerful Viltrumites you didn't care about busied Mark and a majority of your guards have turned in for the night, you were left to your own devices in a big bedroom stockpiled with gifts from every corner of the galaxy.

You tossed and turned, sleeping early didn't help. You were restless, you've been restless since you've been demanded to remain in one building and one building only. It infuriated you, your supposed husband most likely saw you as a reward for decimating a planet and not a living being with autonomy.

You sat up, glancing aside to the empty space next to you. He had some nerve, locking you up then leaving to play emperor like this, anywhere else in the galaxy would be better now.

... 'anywhere else' wasn't impossible.

. . .

"You need to mind your manners," Nolan scolded as Mark left the room the 'conference' was held in. "I know you're doing a good job in power, but that doesn't mean you can disrespect your seniors."

"I don't respect those who don't respect me." Mark spoke, his tone grated through gritted teeth. "All I want to do is get this stupid cape off me and see my wife."

Nolan restrained an eye roll, the human pet. "You're too attached to that human, what do you see in her anyway?"

"Everything. She's kind, interesting, she sees me beyond my strength, it's like..." he let out a sigh, holding back a shiver from showing, the sigh almost sounded lovesick. "It's like she sees right through me to my core, sees me for who I am, not what I am."

Gag. His father ignored the romance ramble. "You'll learn to see her as a tool for the good of the empire."

Mark rolled his eyes, parting ways at a hallway. "I'm going to bed, I neglected her enough." He didn't wait for a 'goodnight' or any last comments from his father as he left.

The grand doors to the bedroom creaked open, nothing changed. Your body under the sheets, gifts untouched and floors clean, he let out a sigh of relief as he threw aside the cape, loosening the collar of his clothes. "Are you awake?" His voice was soft compared to the usual commanding tone. "I missed you, dear.."

He came to his side of the bed. "I've been waiting to—"

Pillows. Not your peaceful sleeping figure. A stack of pillows. Confusion flooded his head as he got up.

"... oh, oh! Haha! very funny, love." He looked around. "You can come out now!" He waited for a beat, eyes glancing around for any movement.

None, nothing, not even a shuffle. Panic tingled at his fingertips, as he tugged the sheets off the bed, rapidly looking under the bed his eyes darted around the room. His heart raced, looking in any and every compartment that you could possibly squeeze into.

The room grew into a mess but he couldn't care less, sweat coated his forehead from the frenzy of pure panic. "You're not here." He finally admitted to himself, his heart pounding.

Silently cursing the meeting in his head, he sped off to collect whoever he can from guards or staff to form a search party, you couldn't have gone far. Humans were weak, vulnerable, he'll find you. He'll find you. He'll find you.

. . .

You held the cloak you found in the back of the closet close to your chest, you didn't know if Viltrumites recognised you but you wouldn't risk it, but your feet hurt as you ran through the unfamiliar structures.

The hallways were empty, the doors were loose. It was a miracle. You got a chance to leave this nightmare of a marriage, you had no clear idea on where you'd be headed, but you heard stories of galaxy nomads and travellers making ends meet and surviving! You're a smart person, you've got common sense. How hard could it be..?

The landing zone. You just needed to get to the landing zone.

A gasp escaped you, you heard a few barks of commands. "Spread out! She couldn't have gone far!"

You needed to get to that landing zone.

Keep low, keep hidden. You repeated that in your head as you ran, you thought you'd never get there or that you may have gotten lost, then the landing zone came into view, you saw a few ships and suddenly, hope seemed within your reach.

The search party seemed too focused on the buildings and structures, you thanked whatever architect decided to put that place outside of populated areas, the shouting dwindled, turning more distant as you got closer.

You tossed the hood off seeing a few Viltrumites guarding a gate, spotting you as you closed in, they grew confused. "Your imperial majesty? What happ—"

"Open the gates!!" For the first time, you commanded them. "Open them, now!!"

They had no choice but to listen, the gates opened and your heart almost pounded out of your chest. The ships lined up and their states were clear, maintenence, maintenence, offline, maintenence, offline, reserved, offline, reserved.

Finally, 'Ready'.

You could hear the shouting return, but you didn't care, the ship took you in so easily and you could see a new life for yourself outside of this miserable planet, now you just need to learn how to get the controls to listen to you.

It was quiet inside the ship, save for the rapid button clicking and switch flicking from you, everything was coming to life in the ship's mechanics, you held onto the yoke of the ship as you saw the landscape shift, it would levitate off the ground soon.

. . .

He saw it in the distance, hovering high over the empire he saw a ship start to levitate, he knew about every ship, item and living being that entered and left Viltrum.

"No. No. Nononono." His body moved, launching him to the landing zone area with his fists clenched ready to tear through metal.

Mark mumbled to himself as he closed the distance quickly, angered at your audacity to try to escape him.

. . .

Freedom was on the horizon, you were out of here, out of this nightmare. Your hands readjusted repeatedly on the yolk as the ship moved.

A booming sound caused you to whip your head to the back of the ship, your heart dropped seeing an indent in the metal.

"I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE!" You never heard Mark's voice reach that level of volume, the pounding continued. "COME OUT!"

You stood your ground, even as the fear of what he might do if he gets you caused your hands to tremble and your heart to race quickly, you repeatedly tapped a few buttons, didn't this stupid ship have thrusters or whatever?!

An alarm blared, one meant to let a pilot know the ship wouldn't listen, you had a feeling it had to do with more rumbling from below, curse his monstrous strength, you heard a piercing noise, followed by a grating, screeching noise. He was peeling the metal with his bare hands.

"You'd rather DIE in the cold of the galaxy? You despise me to THAT extent?!" He screeched at the top of his lungs, the ship sparking after he destroyed its engine from the outside and it's structure being torn apart.

Your hands rapidly tried to find any button that could reverse or override the damage. "Please," you mumbled as if the ship could hear you. "Please work, please! I can't stay here..!"

"(NAME)!! TURN THIS SHIP OFF!! NOW!!"

His yelling scared you, you gripped a lever and before you knew it, a flury of sparks flew from the control panel, so powerful it almost knocked you out, but the ship being pummeled back to the ground beat the sparks to it, the tilt of the ship causing you to fall out the pilot's chair and hit your head on the way down to the ship's floor.

Your head hurts, your heart hurts, are you going to die on this ship? You didn't want to succumb to the pounding in your head, you were scared you'd wake up chained or worse. A burning sensation collected at the point of impact on your head.

The ship was useless now, Mark made sure of it, the engine being destroyed in an instant, tugging the metal back until there was enough of an opening for him to slip through, he bent his head down to enter the ship. its lights flickering off, he looked up with a piercing glare, a scowl on his lips and eyebrows furrowed, his knuckles were reddened from the sheer force of his strikes against the metal.

It was quiet for a moment as he watched the consciousness slip away from you, his footsteps that approached you quiet compared to the powerful banging of his fists from seconds ago.

"You've got some nerve." He started, a look of anger, sadness, frustration and heartbreak in his eyes. "You think it's that easy, don't you?"

Black spots formed in your vision, your expression was one he couldn't dissect, it pissed him off more, and he knew he'd still take care of that bump on your head after bringing you back home.

It doesn't matter, he'd indulge in his win for now and seethe about the insolence after. And right when he thought you were becoming more obedient too.

"I'm not letting you go." Mark stated to make the situation clear to your fuzzy state of mind, "Not now. Not ever. I'll make sure of it."

[alpali]

Atsumu stands in the convenience store with pursed lips. Osamu had refused to cook for him so here he is, deciding on what he’s supposed to snack on. He scratches his head in thought.

“That damn jerk.” He mumbles under his breath.

He hears the faint chime of the doors, as they open and close. Then he’s back to concentrating. That is until a girl wraps their arms around his neck. His eyes going wide, as he stumbles a bit.

“What the hell-”

“Baby there you are!” You say a little loud, a waver in your voice.

“Please help me.” You whisper and his ears perk up.

He’s a little weirded out but he can sense the tension in your body. As if on cue a rather sketchy man turns the corner of the isle, staring you down.

His eyes narrow at the man, his arm now circling around your waist. He keeps you tight against him. The man inches a little closer, as if he’s glancing at the products. Atsumu clicks his tongue.

“Ya got a problem?” He calls out to the man.

The man glances up at him. Atsumu towers over him with ease. His unwavering glare and cold demeanor making the man step back. He gently guides you behind him.

“I suggest ya get yer sorry ass outta here. Before I make ya.” He smiles but the man knows better than to believe Atsumu is fucking around.

So with a scoff the man is leaving without another word or glance. You sigh loudly, a breath you hadn’t known you were holding in.

“I’m so sorry!” You shriek, bowing immediately. Atsumu is surprised, quickly trying to get you stop.

“S’fine really.” Atsumu hovers over you, wavering his hands like a mad man.

“Maybe next time be more careful. Don’t go trustin’ people like that.” He lightly scolds and you nod.

“Yer lucky ya got stuck with me though.” He laughs and you feel at ease.

“Please, let me treat you.” You say with a timid smile on your face.

He’s grins at your face. Only then does he really take you in. You’re beautiful and you smelt good too.

“Nah. S’alright.” He smiles, but you’re persistent.

“Please?”

Atsumu blinks and well damn it he can’t say no when you have a pretty face and sweet voice like that. Yet at the last second he pays for the things as you were reaching for your wallet.

You both walk out with different expressions. You’re wearing a pout and he’s staring down at you with a grin. You both stand outside awkwardly for a bit until you ask him a question.

“Sorry but do you know where the station is?”

He blinks.

“Want me to walk ya there?”

“N-No! You’ve already helped me so much.” You laugh nervously and he shakes his head.

“Nuh uh I’m walking ya.” He begins to walk.

“H-Hey!” You yell, falling into step with him. He smiles down at you as you pout.

“Do ya always pout like that?”

“No.” You grumble and he laughs.

You guys make small talk as he walks you to the station, making sure you’re close to him but on the inside of the sidewalk. He introduces himself and you introduce yourself as well.

“Pretty name.” He comments and you flush.

“Thanks.” You mess with your hands and he smiles.

When the station comes into view, he pouts. He didn’t think he’d be this let down at you having to go.

But just letting you go…felt so wrong to him. His heart panged in his chest.

“Well this is my stop.” You smile but it doesn’t reach your eyes.

“Right.” He mumbles.

“Thank you Atsumu, you’re very kind.”

“Don’t sweat it.” He waves his hand.

It’s funny.

Two complete strangers, bidding goodbye as if you’d see eachother the next day and the day after that.

A red thread wraps itself around the both of your hearts. And as you both are a distance away.

It tugs.

Causing you both to lock eyes, for what seems to be the last time.

You send him a warming smile and his eyes soften.

With that you’re gone.

Atsumu is left standing there, the bag in hand. He feels rather empty. He walks the rest of the way home with a complete frown on his face.

The next day he’s walking with Osamu through the halls, on there way to volleyball practice. As Atsumu rambles about his sets, his words get caught up in his throat.

And there’s that tug again.

He stops in his tracks.

His eyes scanning everywhere in the hallway. When he looks behind him he finds you there, as if time has stopped.

You both mirror eachother, but Atsumu is quicker.

His eyes sparkle, his smile growing.

And that red thread finally ties its knot.

[pythonmoth]

cw: post-traumatic stress disorder (torture). reader is unreliable, angry and inconsistent. reader is traumatized. military inaccuracies. jealous simon, jealous johnny. bros kissing their mates.

simon x f!reader. poly tf141. father figure price.

First | Last | Next

After your talk with Price, and the promise of Gaz bringing you food, you realize there's not much you can do. You can't use your fingers properly, you can't walk, you can't read, you can't even use a phone. It's not like you can concentrate, even if you wanted to. Your mind feels fuzzy and blurry, like you're under water.

Ironic.

Having nothing else to do, your mind goes back to Ghost and Soap. You try to concentrate on the man under the mask, on Johnny's loud laugh when Simon would pin him to the bed so you could tickle him or forcefully shave that disturbing mustache he gets sometimes, or Simon's crude, ridiculous jokes. A smile makes it to your lips when you remember your favorite.

"What do you call a dog with no legs?" you mumble, shaking your head. With a sigh, you look at your hands, the dull pain making your eye twitch. "Doesn't matter. He's not coming either way" you whisper to yourself, closing your eyes. Now that the panic has gone down and now that you know the full story, from Price's mouth at least, you really, really want to forgive them.

Really.

But just thinking of them makes it impossible for you to focus on the good parts; at least not long enough to forget the rest. The soft kisses, the cuddles, the long nights filled with smoke, and drinks, and holding each other in a single bed. All of that, is covered by a thick layer of betrayal and pain. You might understand Price, but the fact that he used your deepest fear against you is something you will never forget nor forgive. Same goes for Ghost and Soap. They don't deserve your forgiveness, and you're aware of that.

Your mind goes back to the day Simon confessed, making your dark thoughts pause for a moment.

All of you were drinking that night and they wanted to play truth or dare. Price had to lick places around the base nobody would dare mention again, Johnny had to wear your bra filled with peanuts for seven rounds —Price thought it would be funny—, and you all had fun making each other kiss. Hands, cheeks, lips, foreheads. If Gaz had to kiss Price's ass, nobody will ever mention it again.

It wasn't so funny, though, when Gaz dared you to kiss Simon. You were dismissive, saying it's funnier when they kiss each other, but then:

"Just say you're a wimp. You're scared you'll like it".

Not even two weeks later, Simon confessed. He wrote a ridiculous poem of your eyes shining like grenades, your hair being as dry as the desert, and your lips tasting like the first sip of water you take right after waking up at night in a mission, rusty but perfect.

It worked, of course.

A soft knock on your door makes you flinch, sudden fear making your heart pound hard. All thoughts and memories leave your mind in a second. You keep silent, staring blankly at the door as it slowly creaks open.

"Hey, it's me. Come in peace. Brought you food".

"Gaz" you cry out, rushing to stand up. It was a bad idea, but you couldn't even focus on that. Gaz' eyes go wide and jumps forward, nearly dropping the food in his haste to catch you when your knees give out, hissing in pain as your feet touch the ground.

"What are you getting up for, you idiot?" Gaz scolds, his arms under your armpits to keep you up, gripping the bag of food between his teeth so he can help you onto the bed. "Dumbass. Come on".

He keeps on grumbling at you for a few moments, setting the food aside after making sure you're comfortable. He tells you something about how he had to fight the lady in the mess hall for it, but you can only stare at him. He looks tired.

"You look like shit" you mumble, interrupting whatever he was talking about. Gaz looks down at you and grips your nose between his fingers, shaking your head slightly.

"Missed you, too. Now, come on, let's eat. I'm starving" he says, not giving you a moment of silence. You know he's trying to take care of you, so you just let him guide you, both of you sitting on the bed. You watch him set the food between the two of you.

He talks about his mission, though you're not sure he actually did all that or if he's bluffing just to make you concentrate on something else. He's halfway done with his food when he realizes you're just listening to him talk and haven't eaten.

"Weren't you hungry?" Gaz questions, his voice a little muffled, his mouth is filled with food. It's terribly disgusting, but it makes you feel warm.

"I guess. I don't know" you sigh, uncomfortable. You stab the food silently, not really in the mood for eating. Just the thought of it being even a little salty makes you want to throw up. And, using a fork feels ridiculously hard, even with all the bandages keeping your fingers safe from pain.

Gaz reaches out to steal a piece of chicken from your plate and takes a bite, munching happily as he starts talking again, mouth full. You don't realize he slowly starts feeding you the bites he steals, filling your mouth and watching you chew.

He's the same as always. Maybe it helps that he doesn't treat you like a victim, or perhaps it is that your tummy is full, because your head lands on his shoulder at some point. Gaz watches you sleep, his yapping coming to a stop as you drool on his uniform. He gently moves the food from the bed, making sure you stay comfortable resting against him.

Deep in sleep, your dreams are haunted by Ghost's mask. It morphs into a smile, laughing at you, haunting you, the teeth opening wide as if to bite your head off. Hundreds of Soap's hands grip you from everywhere, and you scream, and cry, and beg, and Ghost's just laughing at you, Price's voice echoing somewhere in the back of your mind, but you can't make out what he's saying.

You slowly wake up from your nightmare, your head spinning. Gaz' shaking your shoulder slightly, a lazy smile on his lips. "Oi, morning. You slept like a rock for nearly a day, good for you".

Gaz has to trick you so you can eat again, but when he leaves, promising you he'll be back later, your coffee remains untouched. You stare at the cup as the medics come and go, checking your hands and your feet. They tell you it's for the discharge, but you're really uncomfortable as they touch you, as they check on the wounds. You knew they were bad and that it would take at least four to six months for you to walk with the boots again and not feel pain, but when they confirm it, you want to curl in the bed and cry.

When the military psychologist gives you a visit, your sobs just can't stop. Talking about it is even more difficult than experiencing it, you realize. Your mind has locked so many things but you refuse to let them out for now, not wanting to accept anything but the pain they caused you. In any case, the psychologist isn't there to be of help just now. You know it's for the discharge, again, but it's as if they wanted to make sure you're truly crazy traumatized enough for them to send you home.

The exams take three days. Gaz and Price have been visiting you as much as they can, both of them managing to make you smile, or at least distract you. Even Ghost? Simon comes to visit you, with a different mask, and he takes it off as soon as he's inside so you can see his face. He looks as tense as always, but he keeps bringing things he knows you like: a chocolate, sour candy, even some of Johnny's cookies.

"Is he... not visiting?" you question him, your eyes fixed on the sour candy, blinking slowly. In a way, it pisses you off that he doesn't have the balls to come and see you. Again, it's not like you expected—

"Johnny's scared you won't want to see him" Simon answers, his voice gruff and hard, but it's clear he's trying to be gentle. He sounds different without the mask, and that helps your shoulders relax. Not much, though.

"Well, he hasn't come. How is he supposed to know?" you grumble, crushing one of the cookies with the heel of your palm. "I don't want to see you and you're here, anyway".

When you don't hear his response, you look up at him. He looks like he wants to cry, you realize. He's been doing that. Whenever you tell him the truth, he goes silent. Whenever you say you're scared of him, he's silent, whenever you say no, why would I want you to hug me?, he's silent.

You know you're probably being unfair, but how is that your fault, though? You're angry, pissed, and he keeps coming, showing you his face like you're so dumb you can't understand he will still wear the other mask outside, like you're so stupid he can fool you and make you think he never meant to hurt you. Isn't that why he did that, anyway? The only reason you stand him is because Price and Gaz have been telling you he's been mopping around like a fucking pup, and that maybe just letting him sit with you isn't a bad idea. But how's that not a bad idea? It's ridiculous to think—

"Do you want me to leave?" he cuts you off, his tone quiet. Only then, you realize you were speaking out loud.

It makes you falter. You take a moment to genuinely think about it.

"No, I don't" you admit, crumbling another cookie, keeping your eyes down for a moment. The silence is oppressive, exhausting. It keeps you on edge. "Did you believe me when I told you this was over?"

"Yes".

"Good".

On the third day in the clinic, Price tells you you're going home the next morning. It's so relieving to hear that you give him a hug, and then immediately freeze because Simon's in the room, staring at you, no mask. Johnny's right next to him, looking down at his feet and using his index finger to pick on his fingernails. They say nothing, only staring as you let go of Price and turn to Gaz, your shoulders relaxing completely.

Simon and Johnny share a look at your reaction, their jaws clenching hard enough to almost break their teeth, but they both remain silent.

You've grown used to their presence at this point, but as soon as Simon slips the mask back on, you have to look away. Perhaps the fear will always be there, even if you're half convinced he won't hurt you again. After a while, the two decide to leave so you can rest. Price leaves a few minutes later, promising to be there when you leave the next morning. Gaz is the only one who stays with you, as he has the past few days, but instead of him sleeping on the floor you two share the bed.

It's the last day, so why not?

He tells you a bit more about how he got certain scars, about how he plans on visiting you when he can so you can show him your house. You smile, nodding at the idea, just listening to him talk your ears off. It's comforting. You feel like you're in a sleepover with your friend, sharing gossip about other soldiers, and making fun of Price.

Your head is nested against his chest, your arms gently curled between the two of you as he holds you lazily, one of his hands caressing your hair. It's comforting and warm, and slowly, at some point, the idle gossip turns a bit more serious, finally reaching Simon and Johnny.

"You don't have to forgive them. Fuck them. I hope you remember that" he mumbles against your hair. You can hear the anger in his voice, and it makes you feel a little better. "Maybe you'll learn to understand why they had to do it, but that doesn't mean you have to be cool with it".

"And I'm not" you mumble back, shaking your head as you shift, looking up at him. "It's hard to just... look at them and not think of it. It happened like a week ago, anyway, so I can't be blamed. Right?"

"Fuck no. I'd say you give them hell a few months" he says, winking at you and nudging you slightly. It's enough to bring a smile to your face. You shift again, feeling restless, anxious.

"I don't know. I understand, I guess. I can't say I wouldn't have done the same in their position, but... I don't want to think about that right now".

"Of course" Gaz hums, his hand gently rubbing on your back. Up. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down.

It's warm, and it's nice. You melt into him, your eyes blinking lazily as you both lay in silence. Since Gaz has been taking care of you these past few days, you haven't been allowed more than two minutes of silence whenever he's in the room, so you treasure it.

Perhaps is the peace you're feeling, perhaps is the way he's holding you, but you can't help but look up at him. He's lost in his head for a long moment, looking up at the ceiling, before realizing you're staring at him. He raises an eyebrow, playfully poking your back.

"What do you want? Is there something on my face?" he asks, moving so he can look down at you properly, his eyebrows furrowing.

When he shifts, trying to get comfortable again, you surge forward.

It's only a brief, soft press of lips.

Gaz is silent when you pull back, his eyes worried, mostly surprised, but also deeply conflicted. His body is frozen, half lifted from the bed where he was changing his position. You feel shame deep in your stomach. Fear, maybe.

"I'm sorry. I'm really—"

He cuts you off.

It's a soft kiss. There's nothing but calm and affection in it. You're not sure for how long it goes, but it's only when he cradles your face, the kiss slowing down, that you realize you're crying. He hugs you closer, letting you cry into his chest, caressing your hair.

It takes a while for you to calm down, your hot face buried deep in his chest, embarrassed. Ashamed.

"Are you angry?"

"What? No. Why would I be?" Gaz asks, sounding genuinely confused.

"Because I kissed you?"

He hums, his hand never stopping where it's caressing your back. "No. I'm not mad. It was a good kiss." You groan, hitting him on the ribs with your elbow. He laughs, patting your back so you settle against him again. "Nothing bad with kissing your mates".

"Shut up!"

"Fine, fine. Well, look" he starts, shifting to turn the lamp on so he can look at you. "I think you needed that, and maybe I did too. I don't think I'm a replacement, either. Or am I?"

"No!" you shriek, your face heated.

"Then that's fine. Just kissing the mates goodnight".

"Garrick!"

"All I'm saying" Gaz says, grinning down at you and placing a hand on your head, "is that a kiss can just mean that. Did it feel good? It helped?"

You purse your lips, frowning. It did feel nice. It's not like it took away the trauma or anything, but it was nice. Your restlessness isn't there anymore. "Yeah".

"Then that's alright. Don't question it much".

"Should've asked. I'm sorry".

"It's cool. Just don't do it in front of the rest. They wanna kiss their mates, too, but they need alcohol for it".

"What? You'd be embarrassed?"

"No. You would be, though".

"Why? It's not like— ugh!"

Gaz playfully grips your face, not letting you move, and kisses your cheek loudly, making you laugh for the first time since you woke up. He manages to keep your good mood, not letting you dwell on whatever that kiss could've meant. At some point, you hear him snore softly, and decide to settle against him, focusing on his heartbeat.

Your feelings haven't changed for Gaz. You're deeply aware the kiss wasn't romantic. It's like... you're just closer, somehow. With a big sigh, you let your body relax, and fall asleep.

The next morning, it takes you around half an hour to be ready with the medics help. Johnny packed your things, now in the truck, and Simon's wearing the full black mask as he pushes your wheelchair.

Price can't make it, but you're not surprised. Gaz gives you a big hug for him, squishing your face against his chest. Johnny and Simon very carefully help you to the truck, never once touching your bare skin, never once meeting your eyes. You stay very still, but when Simon's hand gently rests on your waist to help you adjust, you look up at him.

"I'm sorry" he says, removing his hand instantly.

"It's alright" you mumble.

You both stay quiet for a moment. Then, Simon nods and slowly takes a step back. "Take care of yourself. I'll... text you?"

"I'll try to text back. Won't promise I will".

That seems to be enough. Simon's eyes warm behind the mask, filled with hope. He gently lifts a hand, his movements predictable and slow. Your shoulders tense a little, but you give him a nod, your eyes on his. He caresses your hair, drinking you in, endulging himself in the permission you give him. In the end, he steps out of the truck.

Johnny's eyes are filled with guilt, and he doesn't touch you, standing right there, just a step away from the door. "Take care, yeah?" he says, his hands gripping the seat in front of you.

"Yeah. Thanks" you mumble, your palms rubbing on your thighs. You feel uncomfortable around him, instead of actually scared. He hasn't tried to talk to you much at all, so it's a little confusing.

Finally, Gaz steps in and your smile becomes genuine.

"I'll see you as soon as I can" he says, his hands gripping your cheeks just to squish them together. "If you don't eat, I'll personally go and shove it down your throat".

"Lovely. Thanks" you grunt. You motion him closer, and press a kiss to his cheek. "That's for you. And tell Price that I'm thankful, all in all".

"No".

"Fuck you, Gaz".

"You wish".

You roll your eyes hard enough for it to hurt, but your smile is warm, content. With another tight hug, you say goodbye, and the engine rings in your ears.

Then, you're off.

-ˋˏ✄——————————————————

so! there's that. no, this isn't gaz x reader, im just heavily projecting and I think he's down to kiss the homies for fun and comfort, like I am.

simon going from simon to simon isn't a typo, she just hates him less. 😋

taglist: @euphoricn @lilg101010 @enfppuff @carolchaotic @silas-fanfic-favs @nina-from-317 @an-ever-angry-bi @kittygonap @dorothy-rainbird @adventurerabby @sheepispink @iambuttwodaysold @blackhawkfanatic @malevolentghoul @thriving-n-jiving @literallegendicon @echo9821 @angel-bugz @ssc7514 @defronix @clickbait-official (im adding this one very nervously so😭 I'm sorry)

[mulloey]

unsullied

a late night google and a blurted question take you further than you’ve ever been before.

chan x 9th member!reader

part of my february festival

join my taglist

warnings: virginity loss, sort of innocent reader, reader is described as small, soft but kind of mean dom!chan, like he’s being so tender and loving but he has a filthy mouth, sub!reader obviously, fingering, unprotected sex, breeding, pregnancy mention, younger members being annoying (not during smut). chan is kind of an old head (literally uses the word ‘deflowering’ like it’s 1884 or something) and he definitely has a virginity/corruption kink. he cums very fast i do apologise but you’re so tight can u blame him? etc etc and hate is blocked.

—

“Have you guys ever fucked someone?”

The moment the words leave your mouth a few things happen simultaneously—Chan, halfway through a Diet Coke, chokes on his drink, coughing violently to try and catch his breath; Changbin yells, a horrified, scandalised sound, but his reddened face is telling enough. Minho just stares at you like he can’t believe the words that have just come out of your mouth. Like he can’t believe those are words you’d even know.

Jisung, trying not to laugh, is the first to respond. “Are you high?”

“Huh?” You ask. “Why would I be high?”

“Because it’s a weird ass fucking question to ask randomly.”

“What? Why?”

“It’s just sudden,” Chan says, chiming in as he usually does when Jisung gets the look on his face that he has now. “And it’s not really appropriate. What’s brought it on, though?”

You shrug sheepishly, embarrassed at their extreme reactions and Chan’s curious but scrutinising stare. You didn’t think it would go like this. “Just wondering,” you mumble. “People talk.”

“Which people?” Minho asks. “Where?”

“People. Online.”

“They say we fuck?” Jisung snickers.

“Not each other,” you say quickly, feeling the need to clarify, and he snorts. You shoot him a glare which he playfully returns. “But I saw it a couple times. When I was trying to see what people say about us.”

“And what were they saying, exactly?” Chan asks. He sounds slightly amused too, but you can tell he’s worried about what exactly you’ve been exposed to. He’s not wrong to; you know all too well how weird people can get about idols, but you wish he’d ease up a bit sometimes. He doesn’t seem to realise that you’re not that same wide eyed kid that showed up all those years ago. You’re an adult, and you think about adult things just like he does.

You clear your throat, face burning. This was a bad idea. “They were talking about, like, what we like,” you mumble. “Or what they think we like. Sexually.”

“So what do I like?” Hyunjin asks. He seems genuinely curious but Minho smacks him all the same.

“Yeah, I wanna know too,” Seungmin grins.

“That’s enough.” Chan’s voice is stern and it forces the room into silence. His eyes are narrowed and fixed on you but his voice softens a little when he speaks again. “You shouldn’t read about that stuff, it’s not real. Just gonna confuse you.”

He doesn’t wait for a response before standing up and wandering off the kitchen, muttering about needing some coffee. Jisung waits for him to leave before reaching over to slap the back of your head. “Pervert,” he grins.

—

You’re settled into bed, cozied up in your blanket and clutching the reindeer plushie Felix bought you on your first Christmas in Korea, when there’s a soft knock at the door. You make a noise of acknowledgement and it eases open enough to allow Chan to shuffle in quietly.

“Ah, are you all ready for bed?” He asks. You pull your blankets down slightly to show him your fluffy pyjamas. His smile is fond as he perches down next to you.

“I wanted to talk to you about our conversation today,” he says. “Is that okay?”

You flush, remembering how uncomfortable he’d looked; the stern gaze he’d fixed firmly on you—it’s the same way he looks at you when you really are in trouble, and it makes you feel small and scolded and childish every time he uses it on you. “It’s okay,” you whisper. “I’m sorry for bringing it up, Channie. I really was just wondering.”

His head tilts in confusion. “Why would you apologise for that? I always said you can tell me anything, didn’t I?”

You shrug, noncommittal. “You didn’t say I could ask you anything,” you mumble. “Or ask about… that.”

He just laughs. “Semantics, love. You can ask me whatever you like.” He squeezes your calf, rubbing it soothingly. He figured out a long time ago that touch—his touch, specifically—calms you down; soothes your perpetually anxious mind when nothing else can. He’s never asked about it and you’ve never discussed it; it’s just a silent understanding between the two of you. He looks at you almost apologetically. “I was just caught off guard earlier and I knew it wasn’t a good time with Jisung there to make it all into a stupid joke. It’s a serious thing, sweetheart. You know that, right?”

“I know.”

“If you have questions, I really do want you to ask me. But it’s better to do it in private, yeah?”

“Yeah. Well.” You trail off, hesitant and he says nothing; just waits patiently for you to gather your thoughts and string them into a sentence. “You never answered the question.”

“What question?”

“That question.”

“Ah.” He nods. “That question.”

You groan, nodding embarrassedly and he laughs again. “I have. Have you?”

“Come on,” you whine. “You’re just making fun of me now.”

He grins, caught; it’s a well-known secret among them that you tend to shy away from relationships, or really any contact with the opposite sex outside of them and work. And even if it wasn’t; the embarrassment with which you speak about these things, as if the words are foreign and uncomfortable on your tongue, says it all.

You cross your legs, staring at him curiously. “So you really have fucked someone.”

“Yes, I have.”

“Oh.”

“Is that something you’ve been thinking about?” His voice is soft but his gaze is dark and fixed on you. “Having sex?”

“I mean,” you mumble, shrugging slightly. “I’m old enough, aren’t I? Everyone else is doing it.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to,” he frowns. “It’s not something you should do just to fit in or anything. You do it because you want to, no other reason.”

“Oh. And… if I do want it?”

“Find someone you like and trust who wants to do it with you, talk about what it is you want, and let it happen naturally.”

“Right.”

There’s only one problem—there’s no one you like and trust who you’d actually want to do that with. All the men you’re decently close to are trainees or other idols who can’t afford to be seen slipping in and out of another dorm, and you’re not particularly attracted to them, anyway. You’ve never really been attracted to anyone.

Well. Almost.

Chan’s gaze is heavy on you and you can’t help but squirm uncomfortably beneath it; when he looks at you like that you feel exposed and seen on a level you’re not sure even you have access to. He affects you now just as much as he did the day you met him—when you’d shuffled into their practice room shaking and stuttering with nerves, certain they hated the idea of a new female member and resented you for being it; when he’d taken your hands in his and told you how happy they all were to have you here.

He’s been a guiding force for you since that day—a firm hand when you were out of control and a safe haven when everything was too much to bear; resolute in his determination to care for and nurture you and his assurance that he would never, ever allow you to face it all alone.

He’s the only person you could even picture yourself trusting with this. He’s the only person you want to trust.

You wonder if he knows he’s the only one you fantasise about; if he’s heard the way you squeaked his name in the small hours while you explored yourself with your fingers and tried not to wake the others. You wonder if he’s seen the way your eyes linger on his hands, his arms, the vein in his neck. If he’s seen the way you stare at him like he’s all you’ve ever wanted.

You let the words fall from you before you can change your mind and swallow them forever.

“What if… I wanted it to be you?”

The silence that descends is the longest and heaviest of your entire life. Every possibility, from him laughing at you to hitting you to kicking you out of the group entirely crosses your mind—what you didn’t anticipate is the way his eyes darken, jaw tensing the way it does when something is pulling at his strings and he’s trying desperately not to let them snap.

“You want it with me?” His voice is level and controlled as always but there’s another, deeper layer to it that you’ve never heard before. His fists curl into your soft sheets like he’s holding on for dear life and you can’t pull your gaze away from the way the veins in his forearms bulge under the pressure.

“Yes,” you whisper. “I… there’s no one else I trust like that.”

“Jesus.” He closes his eyes and you see his chest rise and fall with deep, staggered breaths. He’s… well, you don’t quite know what. But he’s not got up and left yet, which is a good sign. “You really want me to do that? You won’t… you can’t get your virginity back once it’s gone. You should save it for someone… someone that’s not me.”

“I don’t want to,” you say, half pleading by now. “Chan. I want you. I want you to do it. I want…I want you to be the first.”

His jaw tightens. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I do.” You try to sound confident but your nerves are seeping into your voice from the pit in your stomach. “I swear.”

“I shouldn’t even be considering this,” he mutters. “What you’re asking me—to deflower you. To take your innocence from you. You shouldn’t give me that power.”

“Why not?”

He says nothing for a moment, like he’s looking for an escape and then you catch his gaze, your face hopeful and desperate and it’s like something clicks. His expression shifts into something understanding and… “Fucking hell,” he grunts. “How long have you wanted this?”

“A long time.”

“I’m a bad person,” he says quietly, disgustedly. “I’m a terrible person for even entertaining this.”

You’re not, you think. But that won’t convince him. You both know this is crossing a line. “I don’t care,” you whisper. “I don’t care at all.”

“Me neither.”

Before you can blink the blanket is pulled away and he’s hovering above you, face inches from yours. His breathing is heavy, laboured and you’ve never seen his eyes so focused or intense or… dark.

“Tell me you want this,” he says. “In words.”

“Chan,” you whine, squirming beneath him with increasing frustration. “Please.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Use your words, baby. I. Want. This. Sound it out.”

“I want this,” you repeat it with wide eyes, clinging to the words as they fall from your mouth. “I really want this, Chan. Take me. Please.”

And his lips are on yours; wet and desperate and messy and you kiss him with urgency as though his attention is in short supply. He cups your face in his hands as he nudges your legs apart with his knee and inches it further and further upwards. “You don’t know,” he gasps between kisses, “what you do to me. What your fucking, shit, what your words do to me.”

“Show me,” you whisper. “I can… I can take whatever you give me, Chan.”

He pauses for a moment, movements ceasing and the smile of his face is safe and threatening and warning all at once. He just chuckles. “Not tonight,” he whispers. “Tonight I‘m gonna be gentle. Gonna take such good care of you.”

Your stomach twists at the implication and the image it conjures of what Chan might be like at other times—rougher and harder than what you’ll see tonight; concealed for now but still simmering beneath the surface. Could you bring that out of him today? Do you want to?

“Chan.” You shift underneath him again, lifting your hips desperately and he grins, pushing them back down with one hand. “Easy,” he mumbles. “Easy, baby, I got you. You’re gonna get this dick, don’t you worry.”

“Now,” you groan. “Chan, now.”

Something flashes in his eyes but it’s gone before you can decipher it and he smiles pleasantly at you. “What do we say when we want something?” He asks.

“Please.”

“Good. I’m gonna take those panties off, yeah?”

You lie limp while he manoeuvres you, getting you ready for him; your panties slide off with your sleep shorts, places carefully by his side; his hands are warm and steady where they brush against your thighs and he makes a deep, strangled sound at the sight of your pussy. “Fuck,” he says. “You’re soaked.”

“Yeah,” you whisper.

“All for me?” He smiles. “It is, isn’t it? Could only ever be for me.”

He pushes the first finger in slowly; gently and subtly so you scarcely notice the intrusion until he’s all the way in and pumping it in and out of you slowly. You squeak, thighs clamping together on instinct and he tuts, pushing them apart with his other hand. He slots his leg in the gap to keep them where he wants them. “Don’t run from me, pretty girl,” he grumbles. “Gotta be good f’me if you want this dick.”

“I wi—hngh—” The word dies in your throat when he pushes another finger inside and you cry out, throwing your head back against the pillow. He curses under his breath, eyes blazing.

“Forgot how fuckin’ sensitive virgins are,” he says. “Never been stretched like this before, have you?”

“N-no,” you gasp. “Of…of course not, Channie.”

He hums, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips. “Good,” he grins. “That’s good. God, you’re gonna feel fucking fantastic around my cock.”

Just the mention of it has you mewling and reaching for him, for the sweatpants that hang from his hips and he laughs, nudging closer so you can finally feel his growing bulge. You gasp, mouth open and your eyes flicker between your hand and his face. “Oh.”

He tilts an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“You…” You swallow, trying to clear the nerves gathering in your chest. “Are they usually… um. How does it fit? In there.”

His eyes soften briefly, and the look on his face is the same one of fondness and care you’d seen the very first time you met him. “It’ll fit, bunny,” he mumbles. “M’gonna make sure of it.”

You’re not sure if you believe him; you’ve never felt a dick before but you don’t think they’re usually as big as him. Just the thought is painful, and you wonder how you’re meant to handle it, how you could possibly take it without breaking—

Oh. You remember now. Your face is crimson when you call for him softly. “Channie?”

“Hm?”

“I— um. I have lube. In my drawer.”

He seems to go through a few different cycles of emotions at once before he settles on a cool, curious smile. If he wasn’t knuckle-deep in your pussy right now he’d be teasing you like he normally does. “Lube, huh?” He muses. “Why’d you buy that, honey?”

“I didn’t,” you say. “It was, um, my birthday—”

“Your birthday?”

“Yeah, um. They thought it would— that it would be funny. To give me that. Because I don’t… I’m not into that stuff. Or I wasn’t.”

He can’t help but roll his eyes. “They being Jisung and Seungmin, I’m going to hazard a guess”

“Yeah.” You giggle slightly and he chuckles too; it eases the tension slightly, reminds you of who you’re with and how little you have to fear in his hands. “And they, um. Jeongin got me something too.”

“Go on.”

You bite your lip, nearly chewing through it as you reach for your desk drawer and pull it open with shaking hands and you see the moment it registers with him exactly what’s lying there, still in the plastic wrapping—a dark red and obnoxiously large dildo. Probably bigger than Chan and definitely unused.

“Dickheads,” he mumbles. He grabs the lube that sits next to the unopened box and slams it shut almost petulantly. It makes you laugh again and he fixes a firm but mostly joking glare on you. “You keep encouraging them and I’ll fuck you with that dildo instead.”

Oh, no. No, you don’t want that. You want Chan. You mumble an apology and he chuckles, pumping his fingers in and out of you a few times before pulling them out. The snap of the bottle flicking open makes it jump and he bites back a smile.

He doesn’t waste time building tension before pulling his dick out, just yanks down his sweatpants and underwear and practically empties the bottle onto his dick. “Can’t have you hurting, baby,” he says. “You’re too pretty for that. Tight, too, I bet.”

His hands come down to rest on each of your plush thighs, holding you down as much as comforting you as he slowly pushes in. The stretch is still noticeable even with the lube but it’s not painful, and you take it all with a brave face. He’s cooing at you as he pushes further and further inside until he finally buries himself in you with a grunt. “Fuck, good girl,” he whispers. “Tighter than I dreamed of. Shit.”

He waits a moment, letting you adjust to him before he slowly starts to move; rocking back and forth and getting harder and firmer with each thrust. You whine and mewl and groan with his movements, unable to think of anything but him and all the different ways he could take you apart.

His composure breaks quicker than he’d have liked and soon he’s fucking into you desperately, like his hips are moving of their own accord and unable to stop. You cry out, sobbing his name but it feels so fucking good. So fucking perfect and you both know it.

His sweat is falling onto you, landing on your face and chest and his breathing is heavy and erratic; jaw clenched in focus and frustration. “You’re so fucking fragile, baby,” he grunts. “So little. I could break you.”

“Please,” you cry. “Chan, pl—”

“Next time,” he says. “We don’t have time now. You need to be bred.”

Your breath hitches, stomach twisting. “Bred?”

“Yeah, baby. Need to be knocked the fuck up, don’t you? Clench around me, c’mon, I got you.”

You do your best to obey, squeezing you walls as best as you can around his dick and it’s all it takes to push him over the edge, shouting and spluttering through his orgasm until he practically collapses on top of you. He removes himself quickly, not wanting to crush you. He rolls off of you to lie at your side but he makes no move to remove his dick, still sitting stuffed inside your hole while drops of cum leak out around it.

“Channie,” you mumble.

“You did so good, my baby.” He strokes your face, gentle and tender and you’ve never seen him look so content. “Fuck. Thank you for— for letting me do that. Letting me be your first. I’m so glad.”

“Will you do it again?” You ask softly. “Fuck me, I mean.”

He looks at you like you’ve asked something obvious but his gaze hardens as it flickers up and down your flushed, sweat-soaked body. “Of course I will,” he grins. “Every fucking day, princess. You’re mine now.”

—

skz taglist: @miyaluvvsyou @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @yabbadabbatuh @pixie0627 @ghstin91s @tangerineastronaut @lemonkait00 @aloevendetta @fancypeacepersona

[urmum-lovesme]

I need more toxic!dad!rafe!!

more Toxic!Rafe as a dad. . . say less baby

Y/n's pregnancy would have been really rough because let’s be real- Rafe wasn’t some supportive, doting boyfriend holding her hand through morning sickness and late-night cravings. The stress of it all made the pregnancy physically tough, too. Rafe wasn’t gentle with her- emotionally or physically. Sure, he liked the idea of her being pregnant, but that didn’t mean he stopped arguing, didn’t mean he stopped grabbing her too hard when he was pissed. He’d justify it, tell her she was hormonal when she got upset, that she was just overreacting.

But let's talk about the first few months.

At first when Y/N found out she was pregnant she hid it, at least for a little while. She obviously wasn't sure what she was going to do yet. Y/N had been so careful, she never ever slipped up about her little secret at home, but one morning she did.

Her mom had gone upstairs to leave a package she'd ordered in her room but she noticed something she wasn’t supposed to. Y/N had been so sure she closed her bedside drawer, but in her rush in the morning, she must have left it cracked open. And when her mom went to push it shut, something caught her eye.

Two little pink lines staring back at her.

Y/N wasn’t home when her mom found it. She’d gone to 'escape' for a bit, to pretend her life wasn’t completely falling apart at the seams. But when she came back, as soon as she opened the door, she felt the tension. Her mom was sitting at the kitchen table, the pregnancy test right there in front of her, like a bomb waiting to go off.

And then there was her dad.

He was standing by the counter, arms crossed, his jaw clenched so tightly she thought his teeth might crack. Her mom’s voice was barely above a whisper, but it cut through the silence like a knife.

"Is this your's Y/N?"

She froze at the question. She felt like she was sinking, the air being sucked out of her lungs.

"Mom—"

"Don’t" 

Her father's voice snapped out cutting her off. Her head jerked toward him at the stern tone, her heart hammering. He barked, slamming his hand down on the counter in irritation as he spoke.

"How the hell could you be so fucking stupid?" 

Y/N flinched at the sudden action, she knew they wouldn't be happy but she certainly wasn't expecting this.

"I- Dad, please—"

"No, don’t ‘Dad, please’ me!" His voice was booming, his face red with anger. "You’re still a kid, Y/N! And now you’re gonna have a baby? You've ruined your life!"

Y/N could feel the lump in her throat growing, so rapidly she felt as though she was going to throw up. Her mom let out a shaky breath, wiping at her eyes. 

"How far along are you?"

"I don’t know—maybe… two months?"

Y/N swallowed hard at the silence that came after. Her mom let out a choked sound, shaking her head as she covered her mouth with her hand.

"With Rafe? Sweetheart, please tell me you’re joking."

Y/N didn’t respond. But her silence was enough, and the tears pooling in her eye's proved to her parents all they needed to know. Her dad laughed. A dry, humorless sound.

"Of course, you couldn’t have picked someone worse, could you?"

"Dad, stop—"

"No, you stop! You think this is some fucking fairytale? That he’s gonna be some good little boyfriend and help raise this kid?"

He scoffed shaking his head at his daughter. She felt like a little kid again, being scolded on the playground for running away too far out of his sight. She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from breaking out into sobs. Her father pointed an angry finger at her as he spoke.

"He’s a junkie, Y/N. A loser. A fucking Cameron. And you—” he shook his head, his voice full of disbelief, "You just threw your entire life away for him."

Tears welled in her eyes, her whole body trembling, "I didn’t plan for this!"

"Then why didn’t you get rid of it?"

Y/N’s breath caught at his harsh words, "Jesus, Dad!"

"You had options, Y/N," he pressed, tone sharp. "And instead, you’re keeping his fucking leash around your neck—"

"Enough," her mother whispered, her tone dissapointed, "Just… stop."

For a moment, everything was silent. And then, finally, her mom looked at her, her expression shattered. 

"You can’t stay here, Y/N."

Y/N’s stomach dropped. They were kicking her out? She's their only child and they're kicking her out? She felt so lightheaded she was surprised her legs didn't give out from underneath her.

"What?"

Her dad didn’t even hesitate as he spoke out, "You’re not staying under this roof if you’re keeping that baby."

Ironically right after that, I think she went straight to Tannyhill, where else was she meant to go? It would've been pretty late, and she probably sat in her car for twenty minutes before she calmed down enough to be able to walk up to the front door of the massive house looming over her. Rafe, for once, was not completely high or out partying, instead he’s stuck at home after an argument with Ward, who'd taken Rose, Wheezie and Sarah with him to some long weekend get away to the Bahamas.

I imagine him cracking the door open, groggy and half-asleep, only to find Y/N standing there, her face soaked in tears, her whole body trembling from trying to hold it together. For a second, he just stares and then she sniffs, trying to get words out, but she can’t. Her lips wobble, her breath shudders, and her shoulders shake as she breaks all over again.

"They kicked me out."

It takes him a second to process, but when he does, something shifts in his expression. He looks her up and down- her arms wrapped around herself like she’s trying to hold herself together, her red-rimmed eyes, the slight flinch when she breathes in too hard.

And something about it fucks with him.

The idea that someone else- her own family no less- mistreats her would really get to Rafe. It’s not just about her being upset, it’s about him being the only one allowed to do that to her. He’s always had a possessive side, but when someone else challenges his claim over her… it feels like a direct challenge to his control. He might not show it right away, but it disturbs him. It shakes him up because in his world, he is the one who’s allowed to hurt her.

"Come inside" 

He mutters, stepping back to let her in. She hesitates for half a second, but the cold night air is biting, and she has nothing left. So she steps inside. Y/N stands there in the hallway, her breath shallow, her body trembling like a leaf caught in a storm. Her hands clutch at her stomach, as if the life inside her is the only thing still holding her together. Her eyes are glassy, filled with unshed tears, the weight of her parents' rejection sinking deep into her chest. The house is quiet- too quiet and Rafe's presence is dark and heavy, stepping closer like a shadow that wraps itself around her.

"What happened?"

His voice is rough, low, cutting through the silence. He doesn’t need to ask more, because she knows that’s all it’ll take to break her again. Y/N’s breath hitches, the tears fall faster now, streaking down her cheeks, and her hands shake as she presses them to her face, trying to stop herself from falling apart completely.

"They found out. My mom- she- she saw the test, and my dad—" 

Her words falter as the sobs wrack her body, tearing through her chest like a hurricane. As she stands there, her whole body shaking, Rafe moves closer, pulling her into him with the force of his presence. His hands find her back, rubbing it softly, tenderly, as if he’s not the reason she's in this mess. Yet she leans into him either way, melting into his touch cause some sick part of her can't help but yearn for him. But this is Rafe of course, he had already gotten in her head about having this baby, and he had to make sure her mind didn't change.

"They don’t give a shit about you, Y/N. They’re embarrassed by you."

His sweet tone was a juxtaposition to his brutal words, a reality she certainly didn't want to face. the hands clinging onto his shirt loosened slightly as the sentence left his mouth, but his grip on her didn't waver.

"You think they’re gonna change their minds? You think they’re gonna help you raise this kid?"

She pulled her head away from his chest to look up at him, expression completely hopeless as her eyes met his intense gaze. His hand, previously rubbing soothing circles onto her lower back moved up, his fingers tightening slightly around the back of her neck, grip firm, enough to keep her from looking away. His eyes, cold and calculating, bore into hers, searching for any sign of weakness, any sign that she might still doubt what he’s saying. The silence between them feels thick, heavy with the weight of his words.

"Don’t you get it, Y/N?"

His voice drops lower, smoother, as if he’s explaining something painfully obvious. Rafe's thumb traces lightly along her skin, as if to remind her just how close he is, just how much control he has over her. He watches her closely, his gaze unwavering, as her breath comes in short, shaky bursts. The conflict in her eyes is obvious, but Rafe’s not letting her off the hook that easily. He leans in, his breath hot against her ear as he continues, his tone still deceptively sweet, coated with that sickening layer of care he knows she craves.

"Look at you," he mutters, his lips barely brushing the shell of her ear,

"You’re a mess. And no one’s gonna fix you but me."

Her chest tightens at the sound of his words, and for a moment, she almost feels trapped within the web he’s spun around her. Her head is spinning, as his hand slides from her neck to her cheek, cupping her face, forcing her to focus on him, his touch both tender and possessive.

"You don’t want to be alone in this, do you? I’m the only one you’ve got. The only one who cares enough to stick around."

Y/N blinks back tears, feeling a strange pull toward him even as her gut screams that this isn’t right. But his words… they get under her skin, wrap around her heart, making her feel like maybe, just maybe, he’s all she has left. Maybe he’s right, and there’s no one else who will be there for her... it's his baby after all. She opens her mouth to speak, her voice shaky.

"I-"

But Rafe cuts her off shushing her gently, his hand slides from her cheek to her jaw, tilting her head back slightly, forcing her to meet his gaze, voice low and smooth, a promise wrapped in poison.

"You’re mine, Y/N. You’re going to do this for me. For us."

In that moment, despite the rising nausea in her chest, she feels herself giving in. It's twisted and toxic, but a part of her is already slipping into his control. She knows it’s wrong, she knows it should scare her, but his words, his presence- it's like a drug. She needs it, needs him, even if it's all just another layer of manipulation wrapped in false affection. Her lips tremble as she finally speaks, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I… I don’t know what to do."

Rafe smirks, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes as he pulls her closer, his lips brushing her's gently.

"I’ve got it all figured out for you baby."

[lheesluv]

Grind on it (s.jy)

The house is empty and Jake is over. You couldn’t help but just… grind on it. He’s too hot.

PAIRINGS - boyfriend!jake x fem!reader

GENRE - smut

WARNINGS - smut (mdni), dry humping, alcohol, some fluff, Imk if i missed anything!

WC - 0.8k

A/N — hi guys it’s been a minute. first jake post! and… WOO 300 followers YAYY. thank u guys :DD also pls send requests guys 😣

© All rights reserved Iheesluv do not copy, repost, or translate.

"Little sips only," he tells you before handing the alcohol back to you. You two passed the bottle back and forth until both of your cheeks were slightly red now.

You invited Jake to come over since your parents were out together. They weren’t strict, no. They had no issue with Jake coming over, except… the door had to be open.

Obviously, you two weren’t going to “bang” with your parents' home regardless, but you didn’t like the thought of having one of them walk into you and Jake kissing.

"Your ears are red," you giggled after pointing it out. "And so are yours," Jake also points out. You both giggled, letting your feet dangle off the bed. You turned your head and took the time to admire his facial features.

Handsome.

Jake's eyes shifted and locked eyes with you as I looked away shyly. "I caught youuu," he teased, pointing the finger at you. "Nuh-uh," you say, looking away. Thank god your cheeks were red already.

"Mmm, I'm sure I caught you just now..." "Nope." Jake chuckles at your words. "It's okay to stare, I stare at you all the time." You snapped your head towards him. "Creep." Jake scoots closer and leans in. "Your creep," he smiles, acting innocent.

You playfully shoved his chest, only for him to lean back in. "Are you asking to get caught?" You scolded him. "Mmm... your parents aren’t here yet..." Jake says, leaning in closer until you feel his breath fanning against your face.

"And if they do?" You ask quietly, your eyes unable to look away from his lips. "Then we pretend," he answers in a low voice then guides you on his lap.

You sat in his lap comfortably, wrapping your arms around his neck. You leaned down a bit and pressed your lips on his. You felt him smile through your kiss as he snaked his arms around your waist, pulling you closer.

Your fingers run through his hair, pulling him closer to you. His thumb traces small circles on your hips that bring some sort of comfort.

Naturally, your hips slowly started moving. Jake suddenly felt tense below you but gradually relaxed his muscles and let you do as you pleased.

At this point, you felt his growing bulge pressed against you. Jake pulled away from the kiss and said breathily, "Horny?" You slowly grinded on him and looked at him with red cheeks, "Maybe."

"Hurry then."

That's all it took for you to continue. Even though you were both clothed, you felt his bulge so prominently through his sweats and your shorts.

Soft stuttered moans fell from your lips as you felt the friction rub against your clit every now and then.

"Aren't you making a mess, pretty girl, hm?" Jake mumbles against your collarbone, leaving small kisses. You only whined as your hips kept moving.

His grip on your hips tightened as he pants against your neck. "You're so fucking lucky I can't pin you down and fuck you right now," Jake mumbles. He knew your parents would be home soon, he couldn’t risk anything.

His lips were parted as he let out low-deep moans, his eyelids halfway closed like he was in a daze. You bit down on your lip, not wanting to make a noise from how hot he looked and sounded. It only brought you closer to your climax.

“Yeah, y-yeah, grind on it, baby.” "C-Close," you softly cried out, gripping his shoulders as you felt the pleasure rise. "I got you, baby," Jake says with a heavy breath, helping you move your hips.

"Fuck, I'm almost there, baby. Hold on." Jake thrusts up against your core even if you were both clothed, trying to create more friction.

"Jake..." you whined his name, brows furrowed as you felt your climax approach closer. "S-Shit, baby. I got you, I got you. Cum for me, baby."

A silent moan left your lips as the right band in you snapped. Your head dropped on his shoulder. You tried to grind on his hard bulge to bring him to his climax with the power you had left.

His hands squeezes your ass as he thrusts up one more time before pressing your hips down on him. "Oh, fuck, baby," he breaths out, making a mess in his boxers.

Your muscles relaxed themselves as your limbs dropped after you both released. The sticky feeling between your legs made you feel uncomfortable, but you couldn't care at that moment.

Jake leans back with an airy chuckle, "What a mess." You tiredly nodded, your head resting in the crook of his neck. "You okay?" "Mhm, just tired," you chuckled with some energy you had.

"Let's go clean up real quick, okay?" Jake suggested. You hummed, feeling yourself being lift up in his arms.

[eraserbread]

satoru lovesss his foreign!gf so much it's almost... overstimulating

it’s been two weeks since you’ve seen satoru.

two weeks of good morning and sleep well text threads, two weeks without hearing his thick accent spell out renditions of your name. he calls you whatever he wants now, and you’ve grown to love him.

he shrugged off on some work mission and left you with a kiss on the forehead. you were pissed and confused because you swore he said a few days, not a few weeks. the fucker does this on purpose -- he knows that you yearn for his stupidly comforting presence, now.

who's gonna be there to hold your hand through street festivals, pointing out everything in a way you can understand? who's gonna spell out syllables in your favorite mangas so you can experience it the way he does?

you've let satoru take you on as a dependant. so, that's your excuse for never leaving your house in these weeks, except to work.

when he finally comes home, its with a thick, heavy bang on your door.

you're dead asleep in the back bedroom, hugging your thick pillow to your chest. alternatively, your phone is screaming with lock notifications, warning you that there's someone there. it takes you a solid ten minutes to come to from the sensory overload. and when you finally sit up in bed, you're so high off of sleep that you don't even recognize what you're hearing.

bang, bang, BANG.

then, you snatch up your phone and peek open an eye.

from: satoru! home tonight! (ᵔᗜᵔ) around 10! will let you know when my train stops train is stopping! running home to you i know you are probably asleep (ᵕ•_•) just didn't want to wait until tomorrow to see you *3 missed calls* from: satoru! if you didn't want to see me... ᴖ̈ you could've just said

it takes you a solid five minutes to absorb the onslaught. then, it dawns on you -- he's here.

satoru is fucking at your door.

you don't think you ever moved so quickly, tossing on a robe and running a hand through your hair. you stop for a second, cupping one over your nose and mouth to assess your sleep breath.

it's actually not too bad, and you doubt satoru would care much. so you spray a mist of perfume on your neck and head to open the door.

you're smling even before his big, lanky body comes into view. he's wearing that same, mysterious uniform, blindfold pushing his hair back on his scalp. it's been ten minutes since he arrived, and even the strongest get weary. two more minutes, and he would've been out of there.

"satoru," you smile, breathless by the look in his eye. he's leaning against the doorframe, his head tucked to compensate for his height. smiling when he sees you again, he turns around to wrap his arms around your waist.

"you were avoiding me?" he teases in your native tongue, lips crossing over yours as he speaks slowly. you shake your head, hands crawling from his shoulders, to the back of his neck.

"you were annoying me," you counter, a similarly mischievous look in your eye. he gasps, then leans to kiss you. it's stupid, but the smile on your face is huge, and you're so happy to see him again. "six texts and three missed calls? so needy."

"ah, you missed me." he's smug, gentle but fearless as he pushes you to the side, reveling in the familiar taste of the air around you. he can smell the promise of food you prepared earlier. he hopes it's something he's never had before, he loves being your taste-tester.

"well, i missed you and your fridge soo much." he's hardly regarding you as you push and lock the door. he's headfirst inside the cool expanse when you turn around, giving him a sideways glance.

of course, your food is his first order of business after being gone for weeks. never mind you, the girl who made the food, to get a fleeting shred of his godly attention. your japanese has been so rusty without him, but you know how much he loves hearing your broken syllables scold him in a way he knew like the back of his hand.

"you haven't eaten in three weeks?"

"two." he emerges with a flushed face and a slice of cheese between his teeth. "what's this?"

"macaroni and cheese."

"woooow, it looks like brick." satoru stands up with the pan in his hands, tossing the top across your counter before reaching in with his bare hands. "this is a weapon, baby."

"can you-" you step to his side, slapping his big hand away. "stop fondling my food. it's only solidified because it's been cold for three days."

gojo places the macaroni back in the pan, then drags his finger across the rippled top. in english he drops his voice sensually and stares right into your eyes, "cheesy."

"i will kill you myself," you reach for an oven mitt, hitting his poking hand with it. "get out of my kitchen. seriously."

he protests, but he's no match for your sage green oven mitt as it comes down on his arms and back. you're trying to push him out, but he's not an easy statue to move. "aww, ba

"no. you're an idiot." you shut him down, more at ease with his presence not floating around your fragile kitchen. you'd make him anything he asks, but you have to do it. for being the strongest, he's so fucking clumsy.

"okay, okay," he gives up, flopping back on your bed. in a passing touch, he opens the top spiraled-gold button on his shirt. "can you bring me some? i promise I'll stop fondling your food, just please?"

standing in front of him, arms crossed with your mitt hanging from your fingers, you try everything not to fall into his mercy. "you could beg a little harder."

satoru gives you a smug little downcast look, sitting back on his hands in a wide spread. you want to dive headfirst into him, but this game of chase was something exciting, something satoru loved and knew he needed.

sometime later, he's got you pinned down in your bed, two fingers deep inside of you as he does everything he can to milk that first orgasm out of you. robe loose and hanging from your skin, you're burying your face in the fabric, tugging at the bed sheets as he leans over the side of your trembling figure.

his hands are so big, they're able to toy with your sensitive clit, kiss the insides of your thigh and crook damn-near five inches of just his fingers right into your crying g-spot. it's a heady feeling, so wicked and familiar that the one thing that could take it over the top, satoru is doing directly in your ear.

"baby~~ m'baby girlll," he's whispering in english, knowing how weak you get when your face goes all hot and flush. his accent does ungodly things to you -- things you'd never admit unless you're being fucked stupid. "cum for me, my sweet..."

"mhmfm, satoru-

"yeah? say my name." he gasps for you, craning his fingers at a sinful crook inside of you. you're drooling mercilessly all over his fingers and wrist, making the slick sounds between your legs heighten tenfold. "sooo wettt."

that fucking does it. his sinful voice, his exact, tiny movements and massages. it makes you crazy. "oh! i'm cummingimummingimcummingimcumming -- satoru!!"

he carries you through it, smirking and full of life as his thick fingertips push and prod at that most sensitive, needy spot inside of you. he's not even close to being done - he wants you to be on the verge of passing out and sobbing for mercy before he finally slips inside of you and carries you to a sensual end.

he counts every time he makes you cum on his fingers with the time passing on the clock, marking the fifth or sixth time with a soft kiss on your cheek.

under him, you're fucking wrecked, hair sticking to sweaty skin, thighs trembling and eyes unable to stop spilling lavacious tears. you're sure that last go around had you squirting all over his skilled fingers, but you were too fucked out and satoru wouldn't say anything until he knows you're alive enough to swallow the embarrassment.

in his own uniform pants, he's been sneaking a hand down there to press and rub off every few minutes, letting your stangled cries do most of the heavy lifting. he's cum untouched by your presence alone a few times, and you hold it over his head like a vice, but he doesn't care. it just shows you how much he needs you -- how much his body ticks for you.

you're limp and panting, thinking the escapade is over and done with when he stands up at the side of the bed, using his clean hand to push his pants down and cock free. he's so wound-tight and sensitive as he gives his little soldier a few tugs to relieve some angst. he's tossing his neck back, rolling it over his shoulders as sexual energy leaks from his glands without mercy.

he knows this is the final round, so he doesn't waste any more time. he's crawling between your spread legs, leaning down to kiss a knee before hovering over you in his favorite, highly intimate position - missionary.

"just this last time, wanted you to be whiny n nice." he's speaking more to himself than to you, but you find a shred of sanity in your head to push out a nod. "there you are. just say my name, baby. it's all I want to hear." he's talking you through it in english, knowing your fucky brain wouldn't be able to translate his comfortable, native japanese. he gets too heady and starts using vowels and honorifics you haven't even heard about.

so when he slides inside of you, completely raw and slick with the pressure of his own need, he's not expecting you to perfectly cry to him in japenese.

"i love you, satoru. so much, satoru. p-please, satoru..."

[rafesangelita]

♡ cowboy!rafe always snuck into farmer's!daughter!reader's room to give her a goodnight kiss.. but what happens when their innocent little kiss turns into something much more?

warnings: sweet fluff, flirty banter, brief flashback, daddy kink lol, sneaking around, unprotected sex, dirty talk, rafe covering your mouth, crying, overstimulation

a/n: i’ll be opening req’s soon! lately here i’ve been wanting to get out some of my own prompts since over half of my works are all req’s.. but i’m excited to see what you girlies send me! find more of farmer’s!daughter!reader and cowboy!rafe here <3

wc: 1.2k

“open up, doll face.” you sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as rafe lightly tapped on your window. he made you so giddy, you scrambled up from the warmth of your sheets, unlocking the hatch before helping him climb in. “i thought you weren’t coming..” you whispered, pouting up at him as he snickered. “y’gotta have faith in me, sweetheart. when have i missed a goodnight’s kiss?” rafe cupped your face, both of you smiling against each other’s lips before melting into one another.

you always felt so warm and fuzzy inside when you and rafe got to share your secret little moments together, the simplicity of just being together without having to worry about someone catching you two made both of your hearts swell. rafe knew how to sweep you off your feet with a single kiss, a string of giggles tumbling from your mouth as he not-so-quietly threw you onto your bed. “rafe!” you scolded him, your heart beating in your ears as he slotted himself between your thighs.

“my daddy is next door! what if he hears..” you slapped his chest playfully, the man above you arching a brow. “daddy? i thought i was your daddy.” your cheeks heated in embarrassment when you recalled the quickie you two had in the barn not too long ago. rafe had you bent over a hay bale, his thrusts making you unable to speak until he asked you the golden question.

“hmmph! fuckin’ say it. tell me what i wanna hear, who’s your fuckin’ daddy?”

taking your bottom lip between your teeth, rafe smiled as he shook his head down at you. “you just thought about it, didn’t you?” snapping you out of your flashback daze, you laughed when he leaned down and pressed a wet kiss to the column of your throat. he smelled like soap, the slight stubble on his cheeks tickling your skin. as if your hips had a mind of their own, you grinded your clothed cunt against rafe’s thigh, a whimper leaving your lips at the lack of friction.

“hey,” rafe cupped your tits through your flimsy night top, “you thought i wasn’t coming tonight, right? that’s what you said.” your eyebrows knitted in confusion before a gasp slipped from your mouth. “yes..” rafe trailed a hand underneath the waistband of your sleep shorts. “so why don’t you have any panties on?” you froze, eyes flickering down to where rafe ran a finger between your folds. keening, you couldn’t help the moan from leaving your lips.

rafe stared at you for a moment, his eyes growing dark as he clamped a hand over your mouth. “i’ve been thinking about this pussy all day. ‘think you can stay quiet for me?” of course you couldn’t.. and rafe knew that. you stared at him with wide eyes, butterflies fluttering in your tummy when he took himself out of his pants. “i mean it. we don’t want your old man chasing me down with that shotgun of his, now do we?” you shook your head, your eyes fluttering shut when you felt the head of his cock prod at your entrance.

you shrieked, his hips rolling into yours as he slowly bottomed out inside your cunt. if it wasn’t for rafe’s hand muffling your scream you’re sure both of you would be in deep trouble right now. rafe rested his head on your pillow, a shaky breath leaving his lips as he started thrusting. feeling his weight on top of you like this had easily become your favorite thing, the closeness of it all made your heart sing. “fuck, i could never get used to this.. ‘feels like the first time all the time.” he grunted.

you held onto his wrist, your thighs hugging his waist as he kissed the side of your face. “taking me so fuckin’ good, you were made for me, yeah?” you whined, your eyes watering as rafe continuously hit that soft spot inside of you. your headboard started hitting the wall, a smirk gracing your boyfriend’s features. “rafe!” you whispered, tearing his hand away from your face. “s-slow down!” you attempted to push him away while simultaneously trying to keep your noises to yourself.

rafe picked up his pace, wrapping a hand around your throat. “can’t..” you shook your head, your chest rising and falling as the knocking of your headboard only got louder. rafe cursed under his breath when you cried out, working fast to get you turned over so he could push your head into the pillows. “what did i tell you?!” he scolded, landing a smack to your ass. you didn’t have any time to react to the stinging sensation on your backside, your orgasm washing over you once rafe started stroking your clit.

you fisted the sheets underneath you, biting down on your lip as white hot pleasure blinded your vision. rafe made no attempt to soothe you, instead he wrapped your hair around his fist, pulling you up as he nipped at the sensitive skin in the curve of your neck. “sweetheart?” you gasped when your father’s voice sounded from the other side of your bedroom door. you cleared your throat, frozen in place as your door knob rattled. “answer him.” rafe spoke in your ear, his tone sending a shiver down your spine.

“what?!” you stammered, heavy tears rolling down your cheeks as rafe continued to rub hard circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves. “answer him or i’ll make you scream.” you wanted to shoot a sassy ‘you already did’, but you didn’t dare chance it. your chin wobbled, your mouth falling open in a silent moan. “y-yes?!” you called out, glaring at rafe over your shoulder when the sound of his hips slamming into you bounced off of the walls. “you alright in there?” you bit the back of your hand, your head falling weakly.

“is this a girl thing or somethin’, should i call your aunt?” your cheeks heated, a chuckle sounding from the man behind you. “no! i’m o-okay!” rafe pulled your hair again, his lips close to your ear as he whispered the dirtiest things you’ve ever heard. “what would your pops think, huh? catching his perfect little angel getting fucked like this..” your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your knees slipping out from under you when rafe pushed you flat on your sheets.

“alright.. goodnight!” you ignored your father’s voice, the only thing your brain allowing you to process was rafe cumming inside of you, his fingers digging harshly into the flesh of your hips. “shittt,” he hissed, “son of a— fuck!” it was his turn to cover his mouth, his muscles constricting as you practically milked him for all he had. you reveled in the feeling of his hot cum filling you up, the thick ropes still connecting you two even after he pulled out.

you sighed, both you and rafe panting in the small space that was your room. “you okay, doll?” rafe kneeled down at your side, pressing a small kiss to the corner of your lips. blinking at him, you nodded before pulling him next to you. “it’s really late..” you yawned, glancing at the little clock on your bedside table. “i know.” rafe grumbled. there was nothing he hated more than having to leave you like this. wrapping his arms around your waist, rafe waited until you fell asleep before slipping out of your window again.

[vivimura]

PAIRING ~ bf!nrk x gf!reader

SUMMARY ~ you and your boyfriend decide to visit the sauna as a break from the winter, but something about you sweating makes him feel all hot for reasons other than the sauna.

GENRE ~ smut, sauna sex.

WORD COUNT ~ 2.270k

ᯓ★ can you tell i was listening to diet pepsi while writing this?

it was a short elevator ride and a few flights of stairs before the two of you reached the floor of the building where the new sauna was located. riki led you down the hallway and pushed open the door to the room, a warm and humid feeling instantly enveloping you both.

you cringed at the feeling of the humidity clinging against your fuzzy sweater and immediately pulled off the garment. now clad in just a black spaghetti strap tank and sweatpants, you neatly placed your sweater into a locker located near the room.

riki chuckled at your expression, his eyes scanning your body in that small tank top. he took off his own hoodie in response, leaving only a black undershirt on and stuffing the hoodie into the same locker. he reached out to take your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and leading you over to the corner of the empty sauna.

he laid a towel on the floor and sat down on it, tugging on your hand and gesturing for you to sit down in between his legs. the damp air and heat in the room paired with riki’s warmth against your back was a nice break from the snow outside.

“as much as i love winter, i really needed this.” you commented and sighed happily, tying your hair up into a ponytail. 

he hummed back in agreement, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you even closer against him. he rested his chin on your shoulder, savoring the way you felt against him and the damp warmth of your skin against his bare forearms. "it feels good," he mumbled, his deep voice right against your ear.

you sighed again, closing your eyes in relaxation. the muscles in your body involuntarily relaxed due to the effects of your sauna, causing you to slouch against riki’s front, the back of your head falling on his shoulder.

that’s when he saw it. a bead of sweat falling from your forehead, travelling down the side of your face, over your jawline, down the curve of your neck, and eventually disappearing into your cleavage concealed by just a thin top. fuck. 

he swallowed thickly making his adam's apple bob. the sight was almost mesmerizing. unable to resist, his lips gently brushed against your ear before he leaned down and ran his tongue over the curve of your neck, the salty taste of your sweat making him shiver slightly. 

you gasped at the feeling of his warm, wet tongue right against your neck, your eyes snapping open wide. your legs instinctively tensing up, the insides of your tummy feeling all funny. “riki, what’re you-”

he chuckled lowly as your body squirmed against his at the feel of his tongue on your neck. he gently moved his hand up to grasp your chin, holding your head in place as he continued his path of wet kisses on your neck. "shh," he mumbled against your skin, his voice deep and rough before he gently nibbled on your earlobe.

“stop, someone can come in here..” you warned before things could escalate any further, afraid of causing any public indecency in case someone just walks in.

he let out a low huff against your ear, feeling a bit playful. your small protest against his actions only tempted him to do more, his lips continuing their trail down your neck, moving towards your shoulder. "let them see," he muttered quietly, shifting in his seat so he was pressed even tighter up against you, his growing bulge rubbing against your ass.

you let out a shaky exhale, unknowingly pressing your thighs together as a result of getting turned on by your replies and ministrations. though you squirmed in place in an attempt to get away and warned him to stop, you couldn’t help but further tilt your head as a subconscious need for his touch. “behave, riki..” you scolded, but only egged him on further.

he chuckled slightly at your attempt to scold him, the way you were starting to lose yourself in his touch not going unnoticed by him. your weak scolding fell on deaf ears as he licked his lips and nipped at the skin of your shoulder. his free hand was rubbing slow circles into your hip, the action both soothing and teasing at the same time.

he slowly pulled back, taking in your messy appearance with the marks he had left. he gently turned your head to face him, his smirk growing at the sight of your flushed face and slightly glazed over eyes.

“riki, don't... we can't...” you whispered breathlessly, though a certain look formed in your eyes which he’d learned to recognize as arousal by then.

he hummed in response, his hand that was on your chin cupping your cheek instead. your face was a sight to behold, already messy and flushed from his actions, your expression making it very clear that you wanted this just as much as him. he loved seeing you like this, losing yourself to his touch. "why not?" he questioned your prolonged protests with a hint of mockery in his voice, his thumb tracing your cheekbone affectionately.

your eyes widened in disbelief, as if the answer wasn’t obvious already. you remained silent for a few seconds, simply taking in the way there was a bead of sweat trailing down the side of his face, his lips naturally plump and wet, long bangs sticking against his forehead, cheeks subtly flushed, and most importantly, the look in his eyes. god, his eyes. his dark intense orbs gazed into yours, almost daring you to defy his advances. but, you continued, a bit more dazed than before. “someone can just walk in...”

he chuckled again, his hand on your hip tightening slightly as he spoke in a low tone. "so? let them walk in." he leaned in, his lips gently scraping up the skin of your neck to your ear, his voice rough and deep as he continued "i want you, baby."

that's when your resolve crumbled completely. you let out a shaky exhale, hands flunging to cup his face and shove it closer to yours, pressing your lips against his in a needy, urgent kiss.

he groaned against your lips, feeling your soft palms cup his cheeks to pull his face closer to yours. he returned the kiss just as hungrily, one hand moving back to your hip and the other reaching back to tangle in your hair, the wet feeling of your mouths and tongues moving together in need turning him on like crazy.

he gently guided you to lay flat on your back on the towel covered floor, locating his knees on either side of your hips so that he was now hovering over you, the kiss not broken for even a second. he placed one hand at the side of your head, the other teasingly tracing up your body from your hips all the way to your chest, where he began groping your plush tits.

you whimpered into his mouth, your thighs bucking shut as you let go of his face to dig your fingers into his hair. he growled back in response, letting go of your tits to yank your thighs apart, situating himself between them. he resumed fondling your tits from over your skimpy top, now rocking his clothed hardness into you. 

as sticky as your skin felt from the dampness of your skin, there was a similar slick forming between your legs. you moaned into his mouth and arched your back into his touch, your earlier concerns now abandoned into a more urgent sense of need.

he was getting impatient, the friction of his throbbing, clothed cock rubbing up against your clothed heat making him want you even more. he broke the kiss to pull back slightly and began leaving a trail of quick, wet kisses down your neck to your chest, his hand squeezing your tit while he spoke gruffly between kisses. "baby... i want to be in you," he groaned against your neck, his voice making it clear that his mind was starting to go a little hazy from the hot room and your body.

you let out a soft exhale borderlining a moan as you threw your head back, your chest heaving so prettily. you whispered a barely audible “....okay.”, giving riki the green light to frantically let go of your chest to reach the waistband of your sweatpants.

he snuck his hand into your pants, cupping your pussy from over your panties. a gruff growl was elicited from his throat fanning right against your neck as his calloused fingers felt up the now drenched fabric. you whimpered and pressed your thighs together, essentially trapping riki’s hand between your legs. he pulled your panties to the side, rubbing his middle finger through your slick folds, earning a sinful mewl from your glossed lips. 

“fuck.” riki cursed under his breath, the feeling of your wetness and pretty sounds making his erection unbearably painful. he snuck his hand out of your pants and reached for his own. he sat up straight on his knees, straddling your hips. there was an almost hysteric darkness of lust in his eyes as he pulled his pants and boxers down in one motion, just enough to make his cock spring out and the layers to bunch up by his thighs. there were prominent veins popping out his shaft, his tip an angry red and a small bead of precum formed. he pumped his cock for a few seconds with his left hand, the other yanking down your sweats and panties from the front, just enough to expose your dripping entrance.

he shifted forward before you could even have a chance to process what was happening, and began rubbing his tip against your folds, throwing his head back and groaning in pleasure. you whimpered and clenched around nothing in sheer need to be filled, hands gripping onto his shoulders. 

he aligned himself to your pussy and let go of his cock to slowly slide into you, your greedy folds nearly sucking him in. he let out a low sound between a groan and a moan, placing both hands by your head to steady himself as you took him in. “riki..” you mewled his name causing him to bring one of his hands to cover your mouth.

“shh.. don’t wanna draw an attention, fuck- do you now, baby?” he curtly whispered, slowly beginning to fuck you in steady motions. you whimpered against the large palm of his hand and shook your head, your eyes feeling dizzy as you limited your loud sounds of pleasure to quiet ones. he buried his face into the crook of your neck to muffle his own sounds, whispering against it, “god, you’re so perfect, baby..” 

he thrusted his hardness deep into you, nearly going feral over the feeling of your velvety walls around him. you held onto the wrist of his hand over your mouth with one hand, the other holding onto his neck, your eyes growing half lidded as he fucked you.

there was still a small worry in your mind that despite not being nude, anyone could just walk in and catch you in an inappropriate act, but it only seemed to thrill you even more. your face and body began growing heated and sticky from sweat for more reasons than being in a sauna as you clenched around his length.

he hissed into your neck, thrusting faster and deeper into you. lewd, squelching sounds paired with skin against skin echoed in the room, his stimulation causing a coil to appear in your stomach. you whined and moaned quietly against his hand, your knees jerking up ever so often in pleasure.

“keep it down.” he reminded in a low, raggedy voice, earning your shaky response of, “riki, ngh- i can’t..” he growled, his thrusts increasing in pace as his high grew closer as he shoved the side of his hand into your mouth, making you bite down on it. your sounds grew considerably muffled and quiet, your teeth imprinting onto the palm and back of his hand.

“tell me you’re close..” he grunted, his thrusts growing irregular and sloppy as a result of his dangerously close orgasm. you could only clench around him and frantically nod your head in response, earning a groan of pleasure from him. he lifted his head from the crook of your neck and kept eye contact. he sharply exhaled and grunted, “you’re so good for me, baby.. i’m gonna..” and with a quiet curse, he slammed his cock deep into your pussy, feeling you with his warm seed. the feeling of his warm release filing you tipped you over your edge, and you simultaneously creamed around the end of his length, nearly trembling from pleasure.

he panted and and remained inside you for a few seconds, his eyes never leaving yours. he slowly pulled himself out, making you sigh both in pleasure and disappointment at the loss of his length. “fuuuck...” he groaned, taking in the sight of your cum mixed with his dripping down your tinged folds. 

he let go of your mouth, taking a hold of his cock and gently pushed the mixture of releases back into your hole, shakily exhaling at the overstimulating sensations on his tip. he slowly pulled your panties and pants back up, clothing himself to a state of decency too before leaning over to cup your face and capture your lips in a tender kiss. let’s just say there were a lot of things that remained sticky that evening. (this is my first time writing smut, pls don't judge lol. comment and reblog if you love riki 🙈)