#and then i imagine the next scene in my head with my fingers over the keyboard

[to-rise-above-monsters]

i saw a pieck cosplay at a recent con and i was on my knees praying and so 👁️👁️ and i didn’t know why and i realized they were SO TALL and i had never considered pieck towering over every character.

imagine it. i m a g i n e .

[malavera]

Peaches: “Will you forgive me... Daddy?” (18+) — Logan Howlett

this is a part 2 of my series called Peaches, but it can be read as a standalone 😉 if you wish to check out the part 1 click here!

summary: It’s not like you can’t take care of yourself, no. Your dad just worries a lot so he asks for your friendly old man neighbor to look after you while he’s gone on his business trip. But is that all?

warning: SMUT! MDNI. a little bit fluff, ddlg dynamic, bratty!reader, dom!logan, oral M receiving, throatfucking

taglist: @wcndercore @peachyystuff @kholdkill @narjuko @the-occasional-artist1125 @robynanthonystark @suchasweetieee @jensojkaobecna @explainthisaetheists @currentlyquestioningexistence @cathers-world @seasonofthenerd @thinkinonsense comment if you'd like to be tagged for the next part 😉

The peach-colored bath bomb hisses as it plunges into the warm water, sending ripples through the surface. It fizzes and dissolves, releasing a cloud of sweet fragrance that wraps around the room like a soft, intoxicating embrace. You inhale deeply, the scent pulling you back to a moment not so long ago. As the steam rises, you let the bathrobe slip from your shoulders, but hesitate. The water beckons, promising comfort and warmth, yet something in you resists. His scent still clings to your skin—a haunting reminder of a presence now gone. The thought of washing it away feels like surrendering the last trace of him, and for a moment, you stand there, torn between the allure of the soothing bath and the ache of holding on to what remains.

But in the end, the warmth proves too inviting, and you let yourself slip into the bath. The water envelops you, pulling you into its embrace as your mind replays the scene, vivid and haunting. You can almost see him again, the way he casually brought his fingers to his lips, licking the last remnants of you with a slow, deliberate ease. He didn’t say a word, but that smirk—so confident, so sure—spoke volumes. It was a silent claim, a parting message that lingered as he turned to leave, leaving you with nothing but the fading echo of his presence and the water that now seems too gentle, too cleansing, against the memory you wish to keep.

Time has slipped away, and now, two weeks have passed since that moment. It feels like a distant dream, yet the memory remains sharp, refusing to fade. You’ve been avoiding Logan ever since, even though that’s not what he wants from you. He’s the opposite of what you’ve intended to do; he wants you to embrace it. He wants you to embrace your desire.

But like what you are, you’re too much of a pussy to face your own desire. Even though it aches for his touch.

Now, with your dad away on a business trip, you couldn't be more thrilled. The house is yours, a rare freedom that has your mind buzzing with possibilities. You imagine nights without curfew, slipping out into the night without a care, and not having to worry about getting caught. But your excitement gets the best of you, and you celebrate too soon. Just when you think you’ve outsmarted the system, your dad’s words come crashing down like a cold wave, his rules and expectations finding a way to reach you even when he’s miles away, dampening the thrill before it even begins,

“I’ve asked Logan to watch over you here and there. So, I won’t worry much. He’ll update me on whatever it is you do so, behave.”

Fun right?

And here you are, sitting in the diner’s booth with your girlfriends, the buzz of conversation and the smell of greasy food filling the air. They’re all planning to head to a party after this, and when they mention the time—10 PM—your stomach flips. That’s your curfew, the invisible line you’ve never dared to cross. But tonight, the temptation is too strong, and you’re about to go for it, to finally break the rules. Just as you’re about to give in, the door chimes, and there he is—Logan, strolling into the diner like he owns the place. He walks right up to you, his presence sending a jolt through your resolve, and without a word, he makes it clear he’s not letting you out of his sight tonight. As he takes your hand, you know the party isn’t in the cards anymore—Logan’s about to take you on a different kind of ride.

Crossing your arms tightly over your chest, you pout, your bottom lip jutting out as you stubbornly refuse to look straight ahead. “I’m not a seventeen-year-old,” you mutter under your breath, the words more for yourself than for him.

“But you act like one,” Logan shoots back with a tsk, not missing a beat.

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “I’m twenty-three, for god’s sake. Both of you need to stop treating me like a baby!” You huff, finally turning to face him. He’s driving with effortless ease, one hand on the steering wheel, the other casually resting against the door. The simple, relaxed way he holds himself only makes him look even more frustratingly attractive. You hate that he’s right, but more than that, you hate that you can’t stop noticing just how good he looks when he’s in control.

Stubborn as ever, you dig in, determined not to let him win this round. You reminded yourself of why you were fuming in the first place, the anger bubbling back to the surface. “Stop the truck,” you demanded, your voice edged with frustration.

Logan’s head snapped towards you, surprise flashing in his eyes. “What?”

“I said stop the truck, or I’ll jump, and I won’t hesitate. Do not test me right now, I swear, Logan,” you grumbled, your tone leaving no room for doubt. Your sudden tantrum catches him off guard, and for a moment, the confident Logan you’re used to falters. The sweet little peach he thought he knew is nowhere to be found, replaced by someone fierce and unpredictable.

It intrigues him. Something in your defiance pulls at him, piquing his curiosity. He’s not sure what you’re planning, but he wants to find out. Without a word, he slows the car, watching you closely, waiting to see what you’ll do next.

The tension in the car was thick, suffocating even, as you glared at Logan, fury burning in your eyes. The moment felt like it could explode any second, and you weren’t willing to sit there another minute. With a sharp huff, you pushed the door open and stormed out of the car, the cool night air hitting your face like a slap.

“Peach!” Logan’s voice boomed, filled with an urgency that barely masked his frustration. He fumbled with his seatbelt, the metal buckle clinking violently before he freed himself and followed you out. The car door slammed behind him, reverberating in the stillness. “What the hell are you doing?!”

You didn’t stop. “I’m going to my friends, and you can’t stop me!” Your voice was a defiant shout, each word a hammer striking the fragile foundation of whatever was left between you two. Your footsteps were quick, determined to leave him and everything he represented behind.

Logan’s grunt was more animal than man, filled with a rawness that made your heart lurch. “Peach, I swear, get back in the fucking car!” His voice cracked through the night, a desperate command that echoed around you.

But you didn’t turn back. Not this time. “No! And stop calling me that, that’s not even my name!” You shot back, your words slicing through the tension like a blade, final and unyielding.

As you thought you’d finally put enough distance between yourself and his truck, something shifted beneath you—your feet were no longer pounding against the pavement. You shrieked in surprise, your arms flailing as you tried to break free. But before you could fully process what was happening, you were momentarily released, only for Logan to scoop you up again, this time slinging you over his shoulder with a grunt of determination.

"You're not going anywhere, not even in that dress," Logan growled, his voice rough and unwavering, sending a chill down your spine. You writhed in his grasp, pounding your fists against his broad back with all the force you could muster.

"Let me go! Please! Help, someone!" Your voice rang out, desperate and frantic, but the night offered no solace. The street was eerily quiet, not a single car in sight, no one to hear your cries. The only response was the echo of your own voice and the steady, unyielding pace of Logan’s steps as he carried you back towards his truck.

Logan wasted no time strapping you into the passenger seat, his hands moving with a practiced efficiency that left no room for protest. The door slammed shut with a resounding thud, and before you could unbuckle yourself, he was already climbing into the driver’s seat. Your frustration bubbled over, and you flailed your arms, grunting and throwing a full-blown tantrum like a five-year-old denied their favorite toy.

But then Logan’s voice erupted, filling the car with a booming authority that silenced you instantly. “ENOUGH!” The word hung in the air, heavy and final. Your arms froze mid-motion, and you stared at him with your brows furrowed and lips pouting, the anger in your eyes now mixed with a hint of confusion.

Logan’s gaze softened just a fraction, but his tone remained firm as he continued, “I’m just doing what your dad wants me to do here, Peach. So help me God, if you wanna go hang out with your friends past curfew, fine, I’ll let you go. But not this one!” His voice was low, edged with a protectiveness that made your heart skip a beat. “I’m not letting you go out there to that fucking stupid party where you could probably get drugged or have alcohol shoved down your throat without your consent; no fucking way.”

The weight of his words settled over you, and for a moment, the car was filled with nothing but the sound of your heavy breathing, the tension between you both palpable.

Logan’s eyes flicked over to you, taking in the way your chest still heaved with heavy, frustrated breaths. He understood why. The anger bubbling inside you wasn’t just about this moment—it was about the bigger picture, the suffocating sense of disappointment that came from a reality that refused to bend to your desires. You craved freedom, the kind that seemed to come so easily to everyone else.

All you wanted was to be like the others out there, those who could breeze past curfew without a second thought, who laughed and danced through the night without anyone holding them back. Hell, they didn’t even have curfews anymore, not since they turned twenty-one. But here you were, feeling like the world was passing you by, like you were missing out on all the big, exhilarating experiences that came with being young and reckless.

You’d never touched alcohol, never gone to a party where the night stretched into the early hours, never done anything that could be described as recklessly fun. And it gnawed at you. The longing for that freedom, for the chance to let loose and live a little, was a weight on your chest, one that no amount of logic or concern from Logan could lift.

Logan watched you quietly, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he saw the storm brewing in your eyes, the conflict between the person you were and the person you wanted to be. He knew he couldn’t give you the freedom you craved, not in this moment. But he couldn’t ignore your pain, either.

Logan leaned over, his movements deliberate as he unbuckled your seatbelt. You watched him, confusion flickering in your eyes as the sharp edges of your anger began to soften. His gaze met yours, steady and calm, as he murmured, “C’mere.”

Before you could fully process what was happening, his hand found your thigh, firm yet gentle as he lifted you up and guided you to sit on his lap, sideways. The shift in position felt unexpected, your body tensing for a moment before you let yourself relax into the warmth of his embrace.

Logan’s strong arms wrapped around you, guiding your body to lean against his chest. He carefully positioned your head on his shoulder, his touch tender as if he knew exactly how to soothe the turmoil raging inside you. The steady rhythm of his breathing, the solid feel of his chest rising and falling beneath you, gradually eased the tension from your muscles.

In his arms, the world outside the car seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in the quiet, shared space. The anger and frustration still simmered, but now, in Logan’s embrace, it felt more manageable, less like a storm and more like a lingering cloud.

Logan's voice rumbled softly against your ear as he spoke, the firmness in his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’m taking you home, alright? Whether you like it or not, I don’t care. But if you want to go out with your girlfriends tomorrow night doing other things than PARTYING, you bet your ass I’m gonna lock you in the house myself. Deal?”

You didn’t respond immediately, the weight of his words settling in as you considered his offer. It wasn’t exactly what you wanted, but it was better than nothing. The compromise, though not ideal, felt like a small victory. So, without saying a word, you nodded your head against his shoulder, accepting his terms.

Logan seemed to take your silent agreement as enough, his arms tightening around you in a way that felt protective rather than restrictive. The frustration still lingered, but there was also a sense of relief in knowing that, at least for tonight, you didn’t have to keep fighting.

“Okay,” Logan murmured as he turned the key, the engine of the truck rumbling to life. You instinctively started to shift, ready to slide off his lap and back into the passenger seat, but his hand on your thigh halted your movement.

“Whoa, whoa, where are you going?” His voice held a teasing edge, but there was no mistaking the seriousness in his eyes as they locked onto yours.

“But, you’re about to dri—” you began, but Logan cut you off with a grunt.

“I don’t care,” he said, his gaze intense, the authority in his tone leaving no room for argument. “Make yourself comfortable and sit on my lap like a good girl, no more tantrum.”

The command sent a shiver down your spine, your breath catching in your throat as you met his stare. The tension from earlier was still there, but now it was mixed with something else, something that made your pulse quicken. His grip on your thigh was firm, but his touch was still gentle, almost reassuring.

Slowly, you settled back into his lap, your body leaning against his solid frame as the truck began to roll forward. There was a strange comfort in the way he held you, the familiar scent of him filling your senses. The fight had left you, replaced by a quiet acceptance, your earlier anger melting away as you rested your head against his shoulder.

The ride was wrapped in a comfortable silence, the kind that didn’t need to be filled with words. For some reason, being around Logan soothed you in a way that nothing else had for a long time. It was a feeling you’d longed for, a sense of security and warmth that you hadn’t realized how much you missed until now.

Even though you had your dad, it wasn’t the same. You were never really close with him. The glue that held your family together had always been your late mother, the one who bridged the gap between you and your father. But when she passed away from that illness when you were seventeen, everything changed. The dynamic between you and your dad became something different—just plain family.

He loved you, you knew that, but it was a love that felt distant, like an obligation rather than a connection. And you loved him back, but only just enough. There was a gap, a void left by your mother’s absence, that neither of you knew how to fill. You’d drifted apart, existing in the same space but not truly together.

But with Logan, it was different. Even in the quiet, even without saying a word, there was a comfort in his presence that made you feel like you weren’t so alone. The steady rhythm of his breathing, the warmth of his body against yours—it was like a balm to the aching loneliness you carried.

The warmth of your house greeted you as soon as you unlocked the front door, a comforting contrast to the cool night air outside. You stepped inside, the familiar scent of home wrapping around you like a blanket. With a tired sigh, you tossed the keys into the bowl on the console table, the clatter echoing in the quiet hallway. Without a word, you made your way upstairs, leaving Logan standing in the entryway, the silence between you stretching out once more.

Logan watched you disappear up the stairs, a heaviness settling over him. With a resigned sigh, he headed straight for the kitchen, his boots thudding softly against the hardwood floor. He grabbed a bottle of scotch from the cabinet, the glass container cold to the touch as he unscrewed the cap, pouring it down the glass.

Taking a generous sip, Logan flopped down onto your couch, the cushions sinking under his weight. The remote was within reach, and with a flick of his wrist, he turned on the TV. The soft glow of the screen filled the room, casting flickering shadows on the walls.

But even as the TV droned on in the background, Logan’s mind wasn’t on whatever was playing. He took another sip of his beer, letting the quiet comfort of your home settle around him, a stark contrast to the tension that had filled the night.

After slipping into more comfortable clothes, you hesitated at the top of the stairs, hoping that Logan was still there. The night had left you feeling unsettled, and the thought of him being gone added to the unease. Slowly, you made your way downstairs, the soft fabric of your clothes brushing against your skin, grounding you.

As you reached the living room, you cleared your throat, the sound breaking the stillness. Logan, who had been staring at the TV without really watching, turned his head towards you, his eyes meeting yours. There was a flicker of something in his gaze—concern, maybe relief—before he watched you walk towards him.

Without saying a word, you sat down on the couch beside him, the space between you feeling both intimate and vast. You looked at the glass of scotch in Logan’s hand, your curiosity piqued. “Can I try?” you asked, your voice soft but eager.

Logan glanced at the glass and then back at you. He simply handed it over without a word, his expression neutral. The amber liquid sloshed slightly as you took the glass from him. The warmth of the scotch felt foreign in your hand, but there was a sense of anticipation as you held it. Logan watched you silently, his gaze steady as you prepared to take your first sip.

You raised the glass to your lips, the rich, amber liquid catching the light. With a deep breath, you took your first sip. The taste was immediately intriguing—complex and smoky, with a hint of sweetness that lingered pleasantly on your tongue. It was unlike anything you’d ever had before, a unique blend of flavors that seemed to dance across your palate.

The warmth of the scotch spread from your mouth down your throat, a slow burn that settled into a comforting glow. You took another sip, savoring the taste, letting the sensation wash over you. The flavor was bold and sophisticated, a little bit of adventure in a glass.

“You like it?” Logan asked, raising one eyebrow and giving you a half-smile. His gaze was curious as he watched you take in the experience.

You folded your lips, glancing down at the glass before meeting his eyes again and nodding. “It’s not bad,” you admitted, a hint of a smile playing on your lips.

Logan chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Would you trade your life for this or for your peach soda?” he joked.

You giggled, the scotch giving you a carefree lightness. “Peach soda for the win,” you declared with a playful grin. But then, without hesitation, you raised the glass to your lips and chugged the rest of the liquor in one swift motion.

Logan watched with a mixture of amusement and surprise. “Says one who’d trade her life for the peach soda,” he remarked with a scoff, shaking his head in mock disbelief.

He grabbed the empty glass from your hand and, with a quick motion, poured another round for himself. The scotch swirled in the glass as he settled back onto the couch, the warmth of the liquor evident in his relaxed demeanor.

“I want one again,” you murmured, a pout forming on your lips as you looked at the empty glass.

Logan sighed, giving in with a resigned smile. “Fine, here,” he said, pouring another generous measure of scotch into the glass. But instead of reaching for the glass, you snatched the bottle right from his hand.

“Wha—hey whoa, Peach,” Logan started, surprised.

“I have my limits, don’t worry,” you replied with a mischievous glint in your eye.

Logan frowned, his hand reaching for the bottle. “Right, considering this is your first time and you like this more than your peach soda, I think that’s not a great idea. Come on, give me the bottle.”

With a shriek of playful defiance, you pushed yourself off the couch and stood in front of him, waving the bottle mockingly. “Watch me,” you smirked, lifting the bottle to your lips.

You took a generous sip, the rich warmth of the scotch flowing smoothly down your throat. Logan watched, amused. The newfound confidence in your actions only seemed to grow with each sip, the scotch emboldening you in ways you hadn’t anticipated.

As the minutes ticked by, you began to feel a subtle shift within you. The warmth from the scotch seemed to spread through your body, making you feel more alive, more fearless. It was as if the world outside had softened, the edges of your worries and reservations blurring into the background.

“Hmmm,” you hummed contentedly, taking a step closer to where Logan sat. With a playful glint in your eye, you placed the bottle on the coffee table and then gracefully straddled his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Logan’s expression shifted subtly, his initial concern giving way to something more intimate. His eyes softened, the playful warmth of the moment casting a new light on his face. He adjusted his position slightly to accommodate you, his hands resting gently on your hips.

"I'm sorry for the way I acted tonight," you murmured, looking down to his lips before gazing up to his eyes. "Will you forgive me... Daddy?"

Logan looks at you surprised, he couldn't believe what he just heard. It's something he has never heard anyone addressed him with that before. The tension wasn't comforting it was rather more, sensual. Logan slowly leans forward inching closer to your face, he looks down to your lips before murmuring, "What did you just call me?"

You giggled, "Daddy." You repeated. "You're more like a dad to me than my dad ever was," you giggled. "The only difference is, I wanna fuck you." The scotch is now talking. "You were right, all those times you've caught me fucking myself with my fingers through my window, I wanted you to watch me," You stare at him with doe eyes. "And thank fuck, you watched me."

Logan groaned from listening to you talk like that. His hands gripping your hips, throwing his head back against the cushion. "You promised me you wanted me to feel your cock," you pouted, starting to move your hips, rubbing your clothed cunt against his denim jeans. Inching your face close to him, you whispered against his lips, "So give me your cock, Daddy."

Logan grumbled something under his breath, his gaze darkening as the playful tension between you ignited into something more intense. Without warning, his hand moved to your throat, not with force but with a possessive firmness that sent a shiver down your spine. In one swift motion, he pulled you in, crashing his lips against yours.

The kiss was searing, filled with the passion that had been simmering between you all night. His lips moved against yours with an urgency that took your breath away, the earlier tenderness giving way to something more primal. The heat of the moment enveloped you both, and you felt your heart race as the kiss deepened, becoming more feral and uncontrolled.

Logan’s hands tightened around your waist, pulling you closer as his mouth claimed yours with a hunger that made your head spin. The kiss became sloppy, desperate even, as the two of you lost yourselves in the intensity of the connection. You struggled to keep up, your breath hitching as you tried to match his pace, but it was overwhelming, intoxicating. The world around you seemed to blur, your senses consumed by the taste of him, the feel of his hands on your body, and the way his lips demanded everything from you.

You never stopped grinding your hips against his clothed cock as both of your lips were dancing with each other. The bulge in his jeans kept growing bigger and bigger until he decided it's finally enough to torture him; he broke the kiss and lift you up before his hands went to undo his jeans.

You watched the way he swiftly pulling down his jeans along with his boxers, his cock slapped against his abdomen. Shit, you thought. He's nowhere near small, he's big and fat. You wonder if it's going to fit in your small cunt and your small mouth. Logan noticed your demeanor has changed as he smirked to himself.

"Don't worry, Peach. I'll show you how." You looked at him confused. "You're gonna put my cock in your mouth first," You inhaled sharply before nodding your head, Logan smiled at you, happy that you're obeying to what he wants you to do. "Good girl, get on your knees."

Logan walked you through it, by telling you to grab his cock with both hands. "Give it a kiss." He urged, nudging his chin cockily. You hesitatingly kissed the raging red tip of his cock that has his already pre-cum leaking from the tiny slit. "Lick it, peach." He commanded, you obeyed. Dragging your warm tongue out from your mouth and made contact with the skin.

Logan watching you so innocently making out with his tip, makes his heart beat faster, eager to slide his cock down your throat and fuck your stupidly innocent face. "Thaaaat's good, peach. Put 'em all in your mouth." Before you do that, you fixated your gaze on Logan before moving away to inch your face close to his heavy balls.

You decided to improvise and see if he'd like that, Logan watches you intensely and groaned as you drag your tongue from the bottom of his cock upwards to meet his tip before putting him all in your mouth. Hollowing your cheeks, and teasingly rolled your eyes close to show that you're enjoying it so much. And it did sent Logan to heaven, watching his little peach enjoy sucking his girth.

"You like my cock, peaches? .... Yeah? .... Well come on, put them all in ya." Logan muttered as he raised his hip slowly upward, pushing his cock into your mouth further to reach your throat. When you gagged, Logan moaned. You thought that was a good sign, especially when you couldn't control your saliva as it drips down to his pubic hair and all. "Fffuck." Logan cursed watching you bob your head and up down his cock.

"Feels s'good.. Peach, god." Logan rolled his eyes and lean his head back, his hand rest on top of your head, fisting your hair. He grunted, "'want more." He murmured under his breath before he decided to take control. He bobbed your head up and down, increasing the speed while also thrusting his hips upward, fucking your throat.

"Fuck yeah, you better think twice before you talk back to me like that in the car." Logan grunted, watching you struggle to breathe, your eyes getting teary and choked on his cock. Logan laughs rather maniacally, watching you struggle turns him on even more.

"You wanna feel how it feels like to have a warm cum slides down your throat, peaches?" Your eyes widened. "Yeah.. I'll show you. 'M gonna cum soon, Oh.. So good, peach." Logan moaned, eyebrows scrunched together with his eyes closed.

Placing your palm on his thighs, you tried to at least breathe a little. You didn't want to pull away as you don't want you disappoint him. You can feel Logan's tip twitch in your mouth, you take it he's about to cum soon.

Without warning, Logan let out the loudest moan ever, spilling his warm cum down your throat. His hips stuttered a little, giving you one final thrust to make sure he emptied everything in your mouth. And you gladly took them all. As Logan pulls his cock out from your mouth, he watched you swallow his everything down your throat as he smirked in proud.

You watched him with your famous doe-eyes when you want something but Logan just laughed at you, mocking.

"You think after you pulled that stunt on the road you deserve my cock in your pussy? Hell fucking no, peach. At least not tonight, now get to bed."

thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it! if you love my writing feel free to check my other works here

support me by buying me a coffee! 🤍

[paarksunghoon]

hooking up with best friend Jay at a sleepover 🤤

i love jay with the friends to lovers trope so much

***

The thing is, Jay’s always had a thing for you.

Sure, you were both ugly ducklings at the age of ten compared to now, but Jay has always harbored romantics feelings for you. The shy, timid girl he knew from childhood is confident in herself. He remembers when you were scared of the dark and he remembers when you broke up with your first boyfriend because he didn’t treat you right.

Oftentimes, Jay pushes his feelings for you well below the surface until he’s questioning whether he really liked you or not. When you dated Lee Heeseung for three months before you two mutually decided to part ways and remain friendly, Jay thought his feelings for you vanished for good. He and Heeseung got along so well that Jay wondered if he only felt that way towards you because everyone assumed he would end up with you.

Jay didn’t mind hearing about Heeseung that much. You didn’t talk about him around him that often. When you told him how Heeseung had bought tickets to your favorite band, Jay didn’t have it in him to diminish your happiness.

You let it slip once, while you were intoxicated, that Heeseung was the best fuck of your life thus far. Long cock, dirty mouth, and a wicked tongue. Jay tuned it out but what made him frustrated is beginning to picture what you’d look like underneath him and what you might sound like when you cum.

Even now, with you sitting next to him, does Jay wonder what you look like naked.

You’ve got a blanket wrapped around you as you sit on his couch and watch the movie you two agreed on. He can’t pay attention to it because of how good you smell and because he noticed your lap moving when the sex scene comes on.

From the corner of his eye, Jay watches the blanket shift. He sees you lick your lips and stare a little too intently at the screen before you. His heart hammers in his chest and he feels his dick start to swell when he imagines you clenching around it.

“Jesus, Y/N,” he says in lustful disbelief. “You wish that was you, huh?”

Your head snaps to him. “What?”

“I said, you wish that was you, huh?”

“No,” you say hastily, avoiding his eye.

“No?” Jay mocks. “You were grinding just now.”

“Why are you watching me and not the movie?”

“Because you look hot humping the air like that.”

You look at him and he swears your jaw would hang open like a cartoon if it could. He watches your lap twitch involuntarily and cocks his head to the side when you don’t say anything.

“I bet you’re wet too.” Jay shifts his body closer to hours.

“I’m not.” He doesn’t believe you.

“Is that right?” Jay puts his hands over the portion of the blank that’s covering your thighs. You gasp when he gives you a squeeze and sit with your breath caught in your throat. “Mind if I check?”

He nearly moans when you slowly nod. Your panties are wet to the touch like he thought. His fingers glide up and down your covered slit so easily that he swears he can hear it over the movie if he pays enough attention.

“Not wet, huh?” You shake your head. “You’re not horny?”

“N-No.”

Jay pushes your panties aside and sticks his finger inside of you. The sudden intrusion feels like a taste of Heaven with his warmth. Jay expertly pumps inside of you at a slow pace that has you clutching onto his arm for support.

“Oh, so you’re telling me your pussy’s not wet even though my hand is covered in you? C’mon, Y/N. You’re so horny you’d let your best friend finger your pussy.”

Jay adds another finger and speeds up his movements. The movie is long forgotten and his knuckles nudge your clit with every push and pull. You bite your lip to prevent loud moans from escaping you but he draws them out of your throat. Your body chases his hand, hips circling the air to gain more pleasure from his digits.

He’s never like this with you; Jay is the epitome of controlled and respectful. He walks with his body between you and the road and he opens doors for you. Jay is friendly with your parents and stays sober when you drink. He’s patient and calm in every way. Except right now.

Jay’s palm against your pussy feels incredible. Your legs are spread wide open with one on his lap and the other nearly off of the couch. He curls his digits and pulls a reckless moan out of you that makes him smirk and out his lips just by your ear.

“I wanna watch you cum.” Your eyes roll back into your head and your mouth hangs open because of how turned on you arm. You squeeze onto Jay’s arm and he laughs when you start to clench around him. “Thaaaat’s right. Clench against my fingers. Let me feel how tight your pussy is. God, she’s so wet.”

You’re sure your juices are splashing everywhere at the pace he’s hammering his fingers in and out of you. Jay curls them inside you one last time when you feel the dam break. He keeps his brutal pace to help you ride out your high. He doesn’t care that your nails are digging into his muscular arms. In fact, he wants to see the prints you leave him.

Your jaw hangs open when he sticks his fingers in your mouth to taste you. Jay doesn’t shy away from your eyes and instead pushes the blanket off of you until his fingers rub your folds again.

“I’m gonna fuck that little pussy of yours after I eat you out,” he says, rapidly pushing his hand back and forth over you.

Your meek ‘yes please’ is all he needs to hear. Jay pulls his fingers from your body and takes his hard cock out from his sweatpants. He stands over you and tugs on himself when he watches you toy with your clit.

“Hope you’re prepared to stay up all night, baby. I’ve gotta fuck you properly.”

***

comments and reblogs are appreciated! x

[thebluester2020]

Blue... Blue.... Alex and the squirting farmer did something.... Can i ask for the other male's reactions to that :3 pwease

SDV Bachelors x Farmer Who Squirts

Summary: How the bachelors react to a farmer who squirts for the first time. Warning(s): S M U T, Sam being a bit of a horndog / perv, Munch Elliot and Sebastion (it's my favorite headcanons of them and I'm dying on that hill), Shane being a bit of a dom, Harvey being a slight sub. Side note(s): I love it when y'all have big-brained ideas 💙

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Elliot

Oddly confident?

I imagine he has a diverse collection of books. Erotica is definitely on his bookshelf somewhere so mentions of a girl (or guy) squirting aren't uncommon to him. In his mind? You squirting is a sign that he's doing something good and he would take pride in it.

So follow the vision, the two of you have been dating for a while and you finally work up the nerve to stay over at his cabin for the night just to spend some more time with him, as well as hear the waves at night.

One moment Elliot was reading to you, steadily getting to a particular spicy scene in the novel, and the next?

His head was in between your thighs slurping and sucking at your clit.

♡ - In the silence of Elliot's cabin, lewd squelching and feverous moaning could be heard.

What started as a simple visit. Elliot had sent you a letter that he had received a new book in the mail and wished to read it with you, a simple and impromptu date night that steadily turned more sensual as your lover continued to read.

Mentions of the woman in the novel being touched by her lover...his fingers slowly trailing up her legs until they reached her twitching sex before the man's fingers teased her folds, whispering sweet nothings into her ear as he fingered her to orgasm. You hadn't realized you were panting like a bitch in heat until Elliot teasingly mentioned the redness in your cheeks, questioning if you wanted to recreate the scene.

You couldn't imagine a scenario where you said no.

"Ah~! Elliot, oh fuck..." You moaned, your hands gripping onto Elliot's hair for dear life as he sucked and kissed at your clit, hums of appreciation escaping his glistening lips as his fingers teased your entrance.

Alone, his tongue proved his skill in pleasuring you. The whispered words of his love told to none other than your pussy as if it were capable of talking back to him, but, you oh so desperately wanted him to touch and scratch that itch inside of you. "You're twitching so much my love..." Elliot said, pressing one more kiss to your bud before he kissed up your thigh until he reached your calf.

"Elliot..." You whispered, teary-eyed and begging much to his amusement.

He leaned forward with a smirk, caging you in with his body as his free hand traveled back down to your pussy. "Yes~?" He smirked.

"N-Need you..."

"You already have me dear, what more can I give you."

Your blush only increased as your eyes looked away from his from both embarrassment and to gesture to the hand that was touching you everywhere but where you needed your lover the most. "T-There..."

"Your pussy? Aren't I already doing that?"

You pouted. "N-Need you...inside..." When his brown rose with that slow rising smile of his, your sex-dazed brain quickly remembered its manners as you whispered a shy 'Please' to him. And, without further convincing, Elliot's fingers plunged into your pussy, tearing a moan from the confines of your throat as your hands gripped the pillow behind you.

Elliot pressed sensual kisses all over your face, eventually focusing on nipping the shell of your ear as he felt your sex begin to clamp around your fingers. Your hands eventually left the pillow and moved to wrap around Elliot's neck as your moans suddenly increased in volume and frequency. "E-Elliot!" You keened. "S Something...oh fuck! C-Cumming!"

Without warning, there was a gushing noise, Elliot's attention swiping from your face to your sex before his eyes widened at the sight of a clear liquid spurting from your pussy and your legs shaking ferociously. His mouth fell open at the arousing sight, his cock twitching in its confines at the gorgeous sight before he looked back to you.

Your eyes were unfocused and cloudy, unshed tears brimming the edges of your eyes as your chest heaved up and down.

"My love..." He whispered. "Care to give me such a show again~?"

Sebastion

Flustered (his cock literally gets as hard as a diamond)

I like to believe that Sebastion is a virgin but he isn't stupid.

He knows of people being able to squirt, but he doesn't have experience due to him being a shut-in and never being intimate with anyone. When the two of you started dating though, his mind shifted as y'all got more handsy with one another.

The feeling of you cumming around his cock, the taste of your pussy. It all drove him nuts and eventually awakened something in him that screamed "Can they do more?".

And one night, when his family was out and you and him were getting hot n' heavy in his bedroom. Your body tucked into Sebastion's front as he looked over your shoulder as he fingered your lewd pussy, he got his answer.

♡ - He couldn't tear his eyes away from you.

And by "you", he meant your pussy that was clamping so tightly over his fingers if it feared of letting go of him! Such a lewd sight was a rarity- nay, an impossible scene for him to fathom for a shut-in like himself unless he watched porn or used his imagination. Of course, this was all before he got to know you.

Now? As you whined and moaned so prettily for him, your arms looped around his head in a subconscious way of trying to ground yourself while you practically fucked yourself on his fingers...his cheeks were so red that he felt as if he were on fire, he hadn't the slightest clue how he hadn't cum in his pants yet.

Sebastion pressed a sensual kiss to the corner of your lips. "You're so pretty Y/N...y'know that?" Sebastion whispered before his eyes went back to the scene before him as his fingers steadily grew more and more coated with your slick.

However, it was when a keen escaped your lips that he knew there was something different about the way your pussy twitched around his fingers then. How your hand raced to try and stop his hand and you began to whisper and beg for a break.

"Huh?" He said almost like a confused puppy. "You've never asked for a break before..." Cruelly, the thrusts of his fingers sped up as a smile cracked onto his flustered features at the sound of your moans increasing in volume.

"S-Sebby...!" You whined as your legs started to thrash and your cunt got sloppier, wetness started to coat his hand more and more as Sebastion's eyes were glued to the unfolding scene before him.

Yet before even he had a chance to predict what might happen, his hand was soon coated with the warmth of your gushing juices. His eyes widened in both shock and arousal as your legs shook and seized, the very scene stealing the very breath from his lungs as he struggled to not cum in his pants and save his load for when he was fucking you.

"Yoba..." He whispered as he brought his hand up to his face.

"Sorry..." You whispered, barely even coherent as you tried to will the energy to look at him.

He scoffed as he licked your slick off from his fingers. "Sorry?" He scoffed.

"Don't be~ let's do that again, but on my cock this time."

Sam

Excited (my favorite lil' perv)

I'm going to stick to my own personal theme of Sam being a bit fo a pervert and say that you squirting has been on his mind for a while now, along with the other nasty ideas floating around inside his head.

Some nights, when he's fisting his cock to the thought of you in a sundress or that time when he visited your farm and found you bent over to pick something up. He'd think about the 'What if?' moments of where he's behind you.

Beads of sweat dripping down your skin from the summer heat as he plunged into you repeatedly, his hand coming down to rub circles onto your clit as he got drunk off of your moans and begs for release.

Up until, much to his surprise, he felt a wetness splash onto him and drip down his thighs, your thighs quivering as he had to hold you up to keep you from collapsing.

Poor you, now you had to go at least three more rounds with him!

♡ - A pornographic moan escaped his lips when you squirted for the first time.

As sweat dripped from Sam's forehead as his cock dragged against your warm walls, he couldn't help the delirious moans that left his kiss-swollen lips. Almost as if he were the one who just squirted and not you. "B-Babe?" He said, lazily wiping the sweat from his eyes with the back of his arm before he leaned forward. "Can you do that again...? Fuck...you have to do that again" He begged, needy whines leaving his lisp as his thrusts picked up speed with a fervor more ardent than moments previously.

He couldn't even begin to explain how long he'd been waiting for this moment!

Since the first time he slipped into your pussy all those months ago!

When his imagination finally became reality.

From then on, he felt like a dog in heat. From a brief whiff of your perfume, to those rare-spotted moments where you bended forward in front of him. Your pussy was far too addicting for him to let go so easily, his aching cock always hard and at attention when he was around you as the thoughts of what he wanted to do next, what he wanted to experience next with you plagued his every waking thought!

But...now that he's seen you squirt? All the times he's had sex with you prior seemed to pale in comparison as the memory replayed again and again in his mind.

"S-Sam...!" You gasped. "S-Slow down- Ah!"

He pouted. "I can't..." He whined in your ear. "I just can't, fuuuuckkk, your pussy feels too good." He said, watery blue orbs looking into yours as a dopey grin slowly crawled its way onto his blushing features.

"You'll squirt on my dick again, right Y/N? Oh pleaassee say that you will..." To accentuate his begging, the side of his face dug into the valley between your bouncing breasts as he moaned at the feeling of your pussy clamping down on his dick and the sound of your fucked-dumb pleas of 'More' or 'Go faster' rang in his ears.

"Don't worry Y/N..." Sam chuckled as his grip on your love handles tightened to the point you knew in the back of your head that you'd have some bruises there in the morning, his balls slapping against your sex echoing throughout his room. "I'll make sure that you feel really good."

Harvey

Similar to Sebastion, he's flustered but like way more.

You were taking control for the night and were fucking yourself onto his dick. Yet, the deeper angle pressed into a delicious ache inside of your cunt and caused you to become a little more...greedier than you typically were.

To the point, you were unconsciously overstimulating your poor lover as he was too fucked-dumb to even still you how you were fucking him too good. How, like yourself, were beginning to feel strange as his balls tightened up at his oncoming unexpected release.

But by the time you got off his cock, that last feeling of friction suddenly made him squirt just as, if not more than you had.

He was squirting allllll over his stomach.

♡ - When you squirted on Harvey's dick, your warm wetness splashing against his thighs as you threw your head back to let out a keen of sheer ecstasy. He felt like he was in pure heaven.

Yet as you slowly came down from your high, the aftershocks from your orgasm still washing over you as your pussy clenched and unclenched around Harvey's cock. When your gaze finally settled back onto your lover, you could've sworn you saw hearts start to appear in Harvey's eyes as you steadily began to roll your hips on his still-hard cock.

"Harvey?" You spoke breathily. "You okay?"

He was more than fine.

But, it took a long minute for the doctor to express that as he lazily looked up at you as if you hung the very moon and stars just for him. After all, he was far too focused on how your hips were rubbing against him oh so perfectly. How your sloppy pussy was so warm and so tight even after the countless times that the both of you had been together...so much so that he was slipping further and further into the fogginess that his pleasure-ridden brain provided.

"Harveeyyy~" You said his name like a siren as you caressed his cheek. "Feelin' good?" You purred, giggling when Harvey answered honestly with an eager nod and an 'Uh huh'.

At his honesty, you began to speed up your hip rolls, a choked-up whine just barely escaping Harvey's throat as his grip upon your hips tightened as he ground up into you in search of more friction. Yet, you knew your lover, although he was more vocal than your previous partners. This time? He was a lot more vocal than he typically was (not that you were complaining).

You almost wanted to be concerned.

But the sight of Harvey's eyes starting to roll into the back of his head?

It was far too delectable for you to give up on.

"So cute f' me baby~" You praised as you pressed your hands onto Harvey's chest, your hips falling and rising more rapidly onto your lover as more and more unashamed moans left his lips. "You should be this shameless more often." You giggled.

"I love how shy you are but I think I like this side of you a lot more." You giggled before you quickly snapped back to Harvey's face as his moans and occasional whines began to increase in pitch.

"Oh....shit, Y/N. H-Honey, I feel weird...please don't stop!"

"I think something- Oh fuck, d-don't stop...!"

"Yoba! Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-"

Quickly, you dismounted your lover before finishing him off with your hands, wanting to see the amount of his spend before you were met with the unexpected scene of him squirting. The white liquid sprayed all over his stomach and just underneath his chest as Harvey's screamed to the point you feared he'd wake your animals. Your eyes were as wide as saucers, yet...as your gasping lover struggled to catch his breath.

A part of you begged to see him do it again.

Shane

RIP to your pussy

He's definitely fucking you harder after that little display.

But how he reacts in other ways definitely depends on the location. If you two are having sex at your place? I like to imagine that he'll get really kinky with it and try to make you scream as loud as possible, making sure that everyone within a ten-minute radius of your farmstead knows who made you squirt.

If you're fucking at Marnie's house, however? That'll be the time you find out just how good (and sexy) slow sex with Shane can be.

Ultimately though, when you squirt, Shane is in the business of making sure that you continue the party alllllll night long until he's satisfied or you passed out.

♡ - Ohohoho...he's been waiting for this moment since the second he had access to your tight little cunt.

"Shit farmer...didn't know you could squirt~" Shane groaned as he pressed a hand into the middle of your back, forcing you to arch even more as he drilled his cock further into your sloppy cunt. "How many other secrets are you holdin' out on me, eh?" He continued to interrogate you even though he fully understood you were incapable of answering in a complete sentence, much less uttering a single word aside from the breathless moans that escaped your hoarse mouth.

Yet as the local drunk fucked pussy, his full balls slapping against your cunt as the noises filled your otherwise quiet bedroom.

He couldn't help but remember the fact that he used to be so rude to you before he actually stopped and got to know you.

Suddenly, your face appeared in the forefront of his mind and as he became more drunk off how your walls squeezed his cock, the enveloping warmth began to make his hips stutter as he felt his release close in on him. All he could think about was making you his cute little farmer wife.

The two of you could raise allll the chickens you wanted.

But most importantly? And the most special little bonus that he and only he would get unlike the other people in this town who possibly had a crush on you? He'd have 24/7 access to your squirting little cunt, your moans that shamelessly told him to keep going despite your overstimulation.

He uttered out a guttural 'Fuck' at the idea. "Fuck pretty...we should get married after this, huh?" He smirked. "Ain't no way I'm losing this tight pussy, especially after figuring out what you can do tonight."

[chaconnehoonie]

Wet- L.HS

☼ Lee Heeseung x Fem Reader

Synopsis- As temperatures rise, so does Heeseung’s dick.

WC: 4k+

Warnings: smut, one(1) food play-ish scene, water gun fight, cursing, nothing too extreme it’s just pwp

Smut warnings: Verbal and physical teasing, kissing, oral(f), unprotected sex, creampies, voyeurism and they (kinda) get caught, pool/outdoor sex

This is fiction and the scenarios are completely fake and from my brain, none of the characters are accurate in real life, MDNI!

A/N: This was originally supposed to be written for Sunghoon but I can’t get over that picture of Heeseung so I changed my mind. Enjoy!

You’re so hot

The summer sun warms the exposed areas of skin, but your water soaked shirt keeps you cool in the one hundred degree weather. God damn the sun and its harsh rays—cursing the land with heat waves and rising temperatures that force you and your friends to find ways to cool off.

Heeseung can’t help but stare.

Even as he feels a stream of water hit the back of his head, he can’t keep his eyes off of you. Especially when Jake takes aim and pulls the trigger of his water gun to shoot straight at the center of your chest. God bless the sun.

“Alright, pervert! You got me.” You run a hand through your wet hair, laughing to yourself as you make your way towards your friends and knock water guns with Sunoo as a small celebration.

Jake shoots you one last time, whining about how unfair you play. “Seriously, how did you even get back there? I swear I checked thrice! I want to switch teams!” You poke the muscle of bicep that’s outlined by his own soaking wet shirt, teasing him for his terrible skills at his own game.

“Maybe you should’ve checked better.” With a click of your tongue you prance towards the pool, placing a palm upon the hot pavement to determine the heat. Heeseung watches as you stand up and pull your shirt off of yourself, back arching and neck rolling back as you peel the sticking fabric off of your body to reveal your bikini.

He admires the way you swiftly throw your shirt to the side, grabbing your beach towel and placing it next to the pool to sit on. Plopping yourself onto it, you dip your freshly painted toes into the water and splash them around.

“Why don’t you just ask her out?” Jay startles Heeseung from his trance, snapping his head to see the younger is now the only person standing next to him, a quirked eyebrow following his question. “I can’t.”

Heeseung replies simply, turning back just in time to notice Sunghoon handing you a small ice cream cone. He’s unable to focus for long as his attention is caught by Sunoo loudly laughing from the pool, where Jake is swimming around with an open mouth, begging Sunghoon to at least attempt to throw his own cone into his mouth from where he stands next to you.

“I don’t think Sunghoon would like that.” Heeseung sighs, shaking his head and deciding his own fate is to watch you from afar. To admire you from a distance.

But Jay wouldn’t let that happen. He doesn’t call himself “Heeseung’s number one wing man” for no reason, which is why he encourages his friend to go after you. Even if Sunghoon seems to be the only guy in your field of vision.

Of course, you’re just friends. At least that’s what you both claim. Heeseung doesn’t believe it though, in fact, he believes you two have been keeping it on the low. He’s created a whole fantasy relationship between his two friends— a fantasy that he isn’t a part of.

“Your first problem is not Sunghoon.” Jay brings up the topic once they’ve made their way into the cool house, alone. “The problem is you thinking there’s something going on between them.” Heeseung scoffs, taking a beer from Jay then turning his head to look at you through the window.

Your ice cream cone is melting in the hot sun, creamy liquid running through your fingers and down your forearm and Heeseung shivers. He’s always known he has a strong imagination, but with the visual stimulation right there; the suggestively colored desert leaving trails of itself down your arm, he can only imagine how his is own cream would adorn your body.

“Are you even listening?” Jay smacks his friend’s head, snapping him out of his scandalous fantasy. “You need to make a move. And I promise you Sunghoon won’t care. Sure, he’s a little protective but he’s your best friend too—he knows what’s best for both of you.”

Heeseung only pays attention to the first half of Jay’s rant, falling back into a trance as you finally lick a long stripe up your forearm, swapping your ice cream cone to the other hand to suck on your messy fingers. He only looks away when Sunghoon grabs your wrist and forces your fingers further down your throat and you gag for a second, then bring your ice cream and spit covered hand to the back of Sunghoon’s head, pushing him into the pool with Jake and Sunoo.

“You’re so right.” Heeseung’s voice is barely audible to Jay. “What-”before Jay can even question him, the older is patting him on the back and muttering a quick thanks you’re the best and rushing outside. Jay stands there for a second, sighs, then quickly entertains himself with an unopened bottle of vodka. He’ll pay Sunghoon back later.

You move your attention from the pool to the house just in time to see Heeseung sitting down next to you. You note that he looks nervous, maybe even shy, but you don’t say anything to humiliate him. Yet.

“Hi, Hee. What’s up?” You chirp out before bringing what’s left of your ice cream to your lips, licking a sensual stripe along the side. You don’t break eye contact with Heeseung as you twist the cone between your fingers, coating the entire expanse with your tongue.

Heeseung gulps, adam’s apple bobbing as he watches a drop of melted cream land on your chest, then can’t help but follow it with his eyes as it glides down your skin over your right breast, then between your breasts, and finally landing somewhere in the covered area of your bikini top.

As if he wasn’t just ogling your body, he looks back up to see you staring at him in amusement, and finally answers your question. “Nothing.”

You nod, smirking to yourself and quickly glancing towards all four of your friends now in the pool. “Nothing, huh?” You repeat and he nods eagerly.

“So what about that?” Your gaze drops to his lap, and only then does he realize how hard he’s gotten over this short interaction. “That seems pretty up to me.” You tease, letting out a giggle before abruptly standing up and stretching out the hand currently holding your ice cream.

Heeseung grabs the cone, confused but so love-struck that he’s barely processing anything at the moment. You push his hand closer to his mouth, watching as drops land onto the crotch of his swim trunks and he once again follows your gaze.

Grabbing his cheek with one hand and pushing the ice cream past his lips with the other, you smile widely at him. “Finish for me, yeah?”

.☼.

If yesterday really happened, then Heeseung is in a slight dilemma. After arriving home last night, he did finish for you. At least, he hopes that’s what you meant by finish. Perhaps you really did mean the yummy treat but he knows you. He knows your double meanings and your teasing jokes.

But this makes his situation all the worse. To anyone else, these interactions would have confirmed your requited feelings for Heeseung, but it’s you. You’re so confusing.

With the way you’re so teasing with everyone, and the way you show affection in questionable manners. Even the way you openly treat all and any of your friends as if they’re your boyfriend.

Heeseung remembers when Sunoo complimented the scent of your lip gloss, so in return you kissed him for a solid five seconds, stating that you “just wanted him to taste it”. Yeah, sure.

Or the time Jake wanted you to clean up his eyebrows for him, which resulted in you sitting in his lap for fifteen stiff minutes applying your entire skin care routine on him.

Whatever you have going on in your head, it confuses Heeseung. Which is why he decided he’s finally going to man up and ask you on a date at your daily pool hang out.

At least, he’s going to try to. Hopefully if you’re not wearing his favorite red bikini. Hopefully if you somehow magically forgot the events of yesterday. Hopefully if he just grows some balls and lets his feelings free for the first time in years. Probably not.

.☼.

It’s safe to say, you did not forget the events of yesterday, you’re definitely wearing Heeseung’s favorite red bikini, and he has not at all grown any balls to even make eye contact with you yet.

He’s been here for an hour. One whole agonizing hour of watching you climb onto Jake’s shoulders and wrestle Sunghoon who is on Sunoo’s shoulders. Thankfully, Sunoo has thighs of steel and is able to keep Sunghoon steady while you push and pull all in an attempt to knock him over.

Heeseung’s jaw clenches and his eyes don’t leave your hands— your hands that are currently touching up every part of Sunghoon’s body. He contemplates leaving now and skipping out on the guy’s night he and his friends hold biweekly.

Your fingers grip Sunghoon’s biceps before making their way to his chest, nails scratching their way down his ridged stomach, letting out frustrated groans as you poke and poke at Sunghoon’s body.

Oh, how Heeseung wishes it was his body you were touching. He can’t take it anymore, standing up quickly and pushing his lawn chair back, where it hits the floor with a loud crash before making his way into the house just like he did yesterday.

The crash distracts you and Sunghoon takes this as an advantage as he swiftly loosens your harsh grip on Jake’s shoulders and pushes you down into the water.

From outside of the pool, Jay sighs to himself before following Heeseung back inside, finding him snooping through Sunghoon’s home bar.

“She’s not going to fuck you if you’re not sober, you know.” Heeseung jumps at the sound of Jay’s voice, almost dropping one of the expensive bottles of alcohol.

He shrugs and continues snooping. “Who said anything about fucking?” His reply is nonchalant but his best friend can see right through his act. “Your eyes say everything I need to know.” Jay laughs to himself but Heeseung doesn’t find it funny.

“Whatever. She’s not into me like that anyways.” Heeseung speaks like he’s trying to convince himself, but Jay can hear the hopeful tone in his voice. “Trust me. She was eye fucking you earlier when you weren’t looking.”

Jay barely gets the sentence out before Heeseung is visibly perking up. “Really?!” His face is bright and his eyes are glossy and wide. “Relax, man. Don’t pop a boner in front of me.” Jay teases his friend and Heeseung rolls his eyes in embarrassment, because he definitely would grow stiff at just the mention of your name.

Jay heads back towards the sliding door but turns back to Heeseung before he opens it. “By the way, Hoon invited her to stay the night with us also.” He smiles to himself before continuing his sentence. “So please try to keep it down if you do happen to make it past first base.” With that, he makes his way back to the pool and leaves Heeseung with a heavy problem in his swim trunks.

.☼.

Heeseung opens his eyes to the sound of obnoxious snoring echoing throughout Sunghoon’s living room. He’s not sure how long he’s been asleep but by the looks of it, everyone else seems to have knocked out by now too. Closing his eyes, he decides to try to fall back asleep. Until he’s startled awake-

“Heeseung.”

Shooting his eyes back open, he sits up from his place on the couch and looks around the dark room. With his eyes adjusting to the lack of light, he can only barely make out your figure kneeling next to him on the floor. “What the fuck are you doing?” He whispers a little too loudly and you stand up, a palm covering his mouth swiftly as you take place onto the couch next to him.

Heeseung is a big man, meaning he already takes up most of the space, leaving you only a small sliver of cushion to sit on. So, you climb up onto his lap to get comfortable— because of course you would. Stiffening up from under you, he makes eye contact with you the best he can with the dim lighting, only the moonlight peeking through the curtains.

“I couldn’t sleep.” You whisper, slowly taking your hand off of his mouth and trailing it down his chest and stomach, finally resting it at his side. Your thumb swipes comfortably there, almost as if you’re reassuring him, letting him know that this is real. “And I’m bored.” You lean in closer to him, your hand now coming up to his chest and pushing him to lay flat underneath you, his head landing softly on the armrest of the couch.

He gulps, big doe eyes looking up at you almost innocently. But you know that’s not the case. You’ve seen the way he watches you when he thinks you’re not looking. Seeing him drool over you is one thing but seeing him think he’s being slick with it? It, makes you way more aroused than you’d like to admit.

However, it’s taken too long for him to act on his desires, so you decide to do it for him. “Wanna help me?” Your voice is sultry and low, and Heeseung’s tummy feels warm as it stirs with excitement when he nods. Leaning down slowly, you stop as soon as the tip of your nose brushes Heeseung’s. Nodding your head slightly, you rub your nose against his almost domestically, before leaning in and lightly pressing your lips to his.

The kiss doesn’t last long, as you’re quick to pull away and smile. But Heeseung isn’t pleased yet, instead cupping the back of your head with his hand and pulling your face back towards his. Your lips smash together almost painfully, but you’re distracted quickly as his tongue immediately pushes its way into your mouth. It’s warm and wet, strong as it glides against yours in a teasing manner.

You catch his bottom lip between yours, sucking on it for a second before biting it softly and pulling away, watching as it bounces back now glossy and red. Heeseung expects more, but to his surprise, you just jump off of his lap and quietly walk to the door that leads outside.

Looking back, you watch his silhouette as he runs a hand through his hair and sits up again. You turn back to unlock the door, already taking your shirt off to expose your bare torso before turning to him one last time. “You coming?”

.☼.

If anyone had told Heeseung two days ago that he would be not only skinny dipping at 2am with you—but shoving his tongue down your throat as well, he wouldn’t believe it.

But, lo and behold, he currently has your back pressed to the edge of the pool with your legs wrapped around his naked waist, lips locked and swollen.

It all happened in a rush, between you stripping to nothing in front of him to him following your lead and ending up intertwined, he suddenly finds himself in a dream-like state.

Was this really happening? The girl he’s been craving for years is finally giving him a chance? Heeseung feels like happiest man on earth right now, and judging by the little moans you let out every now and then, he thinks you may feel the same.

“Heeseung.” You practically whimper as he drags his lips to your neck, nipping and sucking at your warm skin. His lips kiss down your chest softly, landing on one of your hard nipples. He pecks it so so softly, almost afraid of hurting you, but you want it to hurt. Grabbing the back of his head and pushing your chest forward, you encourage him to take your nipple into his mouth and he easily gets the hint.

He’s barely done anything and you’re already shaking in his arms, gripping his biceps and throwing your head back with a loud moan. “Heeseung- I need you to fuck me.”

He stops immediately, then slowly detaches his mouth from your nipple and looks up at you. “Yeah? Want me to fuck this pretty pussy?” He thrusts his hips up, his movements slowed by the water but his cock still manages to brush against your folds. You bite your lip, nodding your head eagerly and Heeseung smiles. “Let me get a taste of it first.”

Without waiting for your response, he lifts you up and places you at the edge of the pool, your pussy sat deliciously in front of where he keeps himself afloat.

He almost drools, noting the way he can still see your slick drip out of you despite your whole body being drenched in pool water. Heeseung wastes no time, wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you closer so his tongue can lap at your slit.

The pleasure sends a shock through your body, your back arching almost painfully and your hips push themselves harder against Heeseung’s face. He’s forced so close into your cunt that you can feel each feature—his nose stimulating your clit as his tongue teases your entrance and his plush lips sucking almost obnoxiously all while his chin is already slippery with your arousal.

“Ah-fuck!” He’s only been at it for a few minutes yet you’re already so close. But this isn’t want you want. No, as much as you want to release all over his pretty nose, you didn’t seduce him just to finish so quickly. So, you use all of your strength to pull him off of you and scoot away. “Need you to fuck me, now.”

That’s all it takes for Heeseung to lift himself out of the pool, pick you up, and then throw you on the nearest lounging chair. Thank fuck for Heeseung convincing Sunghoon to buy these at the start of the summer. Otherwise he may have opted for fucking you on the itchy grass.

Grabbing his face, you pull him down, kissing him with a sloppy force while you grow more impatient by the second. “How do you want it?” He’s so polite as he asks, but just the idea of him caring about your pleasure is so arousing. You turn around, placing your cheek on the cushion of the pool lounger and wiggling your ass to taunt him.

It works, of course, and Heeseung takes his place behind you. He slaps his thick girth on the crevice of your ass, feeling the heat between your bodies mix with the humid summer night air. “Hurry, please.” You whine but he just shushes you, dropping his cock to gather your slick on his tip.

You’re tired of waiting, pushing yourself back only slightly to feel him enter you just an inch. “Oh, God.” You gasp, caught off guard by the stretch of just the head. He fights the urge to fully push himself in, instead gently sliding in more, your walls clenching tighter and tighter as each inch stretches you out, a tingling feeling fluttering in your stomach.

He fully bottoms out, standing still with his hands on your hips for a second, before somehow pushing even deeper. You squeak, brows furrowing as you try to ignore the pain of the threatening size currently stuffing you full. You open your eyes, looking back to see his bottom lip caught between his teeth and his eyes shut.

You reach your hand back and tap his own hand, letting him know he can finally move. He nods, leaning forward a bit to hover his body closer to yours. “I’m going to make you feel so good.” You smile at him for a second, but it’s quickly replaced by an open mouthed moan as he pulls back a few inches, then slams himself back in.

Building up a steady pace, he thrusts a few times before finally letting out his first moan. And God, was it beautiful. “Yes-yes let me hear you, baby.” Your voice is weak as his thrusts push your whole body against the chair, your breath unsteady and shaky with each meet of your hips.

It feels amazing, but you can’t help but feel that Heeseung is trying to be gentle with you, which you don’t want. Pushing yourself back again, you meet his thrusts with quiet hmph hmph hmph noises that catch his attention. “You need more? Yeah? My cock isn’t enough for you, needy baby?” He coos at you but you know he’s still holding back. “Please, Heeseung. More.” Your fragile voice ignites something in him, and you’re suddenly being picked up by your hair.

Heeseung grabs your wrists and pins them to the top of the lounger, romantically intertwining his fingers between yours before aggressively snapping his hips against your ass. You let out an almost-too-loud moan, but it only fuels Heeseung more. Your bodies are close and he can’t pull back fully, so instead he fucks into you at a fast, almost blinding pace.

He watches your ass jiggle as it meets his pelvis, the bouncing fat sending him to an almost trance like state. The only thing that snaps him out of it is your whiny voice. “Harder, Heeseung, harder!” He pulls out fully, not giving you time to process his actions as he sits down on the lounger and pulls you on top of him, slipping his cock back into your heat easily.

Thrusting up once, twice, then a third time, he watches your thighs tremble as you try to hold yourself up for him. He finds it cute, how you’ve teased him for so long only to end up too cock drunk to even ride him. He wraps his arms around your body, pulling you flat against him so you’re chest to chest with your face in his neck.

He slowly drags his cock out of you, then fully shoves it in, a loud squelching noise following. “So fucking wet. So fucking noisy.” He grits his teeth, clenching his jaw as he fucks up into your cunt in an almost inhumane pace. “Ah ah ah, shit! I’m cumming, Heeseung!”

Your warning barely falls from your lips as you clench impossibly tight around him, body stiffening for a second until your toes curl and you feel the knot in your stomach releasing with a tingling sensation spreading throughout your entire body, which then goes limp against Heeseung’s.

This encourages him to thrust harder, chasing his own release that he can already sense creeping up on him. His fingers dig into your ass, nails leaving indents as his hips don’t slow down. The sound of your release mixing with the slapping of his balls on your ass is all too much, and he finally lets himself go.

“Gonna cum in you, baby. Gonna cum so fucking deep-fuck!” He bites down on your shoulder as he cums, hips stilled and cock stuffed so deep inside of you, you’re sure you’ll end up pregnant even on birth control.

He slowly lowers his hips, caressing your back soothingly as if he’s apologizing for his harsh treatment before. “Was that okay? Did I hurt you?” He cups your cheeks to look into your eyes, only to meet your fucked out expression and lazy smile. “That was the best I’ve ever had.”

That was enough to almost have Heeseung stiffening up again, if not for the sound of the sliding door opening and Jay’s pissed off voice. “Brought you guys some towels.” He walks out with a hand covering his eyes and the other holding out two beach towels, which he throws on the floor carelessly, then walks back to the door. “I told you to keep it down if you got past first base.”

[ssahotchnerr]

hi my love!! how are you?🩷

i saw your requests are open and i wanted to ask for more jealous!aaron if you’re up for it! maybe one of the girls (probably jj or penelope) set up reader on a date and they are talking about it on the jet ride home from a case. she’s not too sure about it but wants to give it a chance…rossi and derek are hyping her up too maybe! and our man aaron is just watching thinking he’s lost his chance but little does he know she’s only going to try and get him out of her mind.

wishful thinking

these kinda plots >>> 💓 cw; bau!reader, sooo much mutual pining (they're both idiots), a touch of jealous!aaron, slight angst wc; 1k

part two

You weren't being too subtle.

As the others were settling down, getting situated for the ride home, your priorities laid elsewhere; admiring Aaron and the handsome, beautiful, handsome features he possessed.

The way his cowlicks were tousled gently over his forehead, just begging to swept back. His chiseled jawline, one your hand yearned to span across. His enviously long eyelashes. His lips-

Penelope suddenly sitting next to you pulled you from your trance, causing you to jump. It had been one of those rare instances she was needed in the field, offering her specialities on sight rather than stationed back in Quantico.

The expression she bared was rather eager, complete with a pair of googly eyes.

You laughed shakily, a faint blush creeping onto your cheeks - hoping your longing stare hadn't actually gone noticed, "May I help you?"

"So," Her grin widened, "are you excited!?"

You grimaced slightly as your mood instantly deflated. You uneasily crossed a leg over the other, "I don't know."

"Excited for what?" Morgan inputted from above; headphones in hand, twirling the headband in a circle around his index finger.

You offered a sigh in response, so Penelope took the initiative to answer for you.

"You know James Cameron? From Homeland Security?"

"Yeah, what about him?"

"He's expressed quite the interest in our fellow crime fighter." Penelope's excited grin turned back towards yourself, also nudging you with an elbow. "And so I've honorably claimed the role of Cupid and someone," More wistful eyes pointed at you, "has a date Saturday night."

"He's a catch." JJ expressed enthusiastically, dramatizing a swoon as she sat across from the two of you. "Tall, dark, handsome."

"I can vouch I've heard nothing but good things about him." Morgan teasingly ruffled the hair on the top of your head, "Way to go kid."

You offered a meek smile, squirming ever so slightly in your seat. It took everything in you to not let your gaze drift back elsewhere. "Thanks but... I'm not so sure I want to go."

"What's not to be sure about? He's smokin', successful. It'll be good for you, too. When's the last time you put yourself out there?" JJ pointed out, arching an eyebrow in emphasis.

You shrugged, your chin landing in your palm.

Clearly you couldn't go into the specifics; the truth being you had your eyes on someone else. A particular boss you all shared, sitting just a few feet away.

The whole dating scene, you've been hesitant due to said feelings. The only reason you had truly considered going out - was to get Aaron out of your mind. You've spent countless, sleepless nights thinking about him, picking apart every little interaction; the way he looked at you after you had a breakthrough at a profile, admirable enough to make you want to burst at the seams. Walking alongside him, hands centimeters apart, softly grazing his skin. The concern he showed following an unfortunate brawl with an unsub - he had almost reached out to cradle your face. But, all of which could have been entirely figments of your imagination. Wishful thinking.

But regardless, they had given you the slightest amount of hope. Which is why you waited, but you couldn't do so forever; the probability of you and him - highly unlikely.

You had two choices; to continue holding out for the impossible, or to pursue the realistic.

You peered over at Aaron, consumed entirely by the file in his lap. It didn't appear he was paying attention, and that stung. All things considered.

The truth is, he was, and disliking every single bit of it. While it looked as if he were working, he was merely scribbling on a scrap piece of paper, enough to wear it down and produce a hole; silently brooding and anxiously waiting to hear where the conversation went. The more it carried on, however, the more jealousy burned in the middle of his chest. The two of you were close, you understood him like no one else, but that itself was the issue.

He feared if you got too close, if you really, really knew him, he would damage you somehow. Or worse, you'd end up similarly to Haley - unsatisfied and yearning to leave him behind. And so, he had refrained from being proactive.

In addition, right now, part of him didn't know what hurt more; the fact you were going on a date with someone who wasn't him, or the fact that you hadn't mentioned it.

"I say go for it." Dave offered, "Trust me. I am an expert, after all."

Emily bust out laughing, "Okay."

"What do you think?" You asked over their laughter, your voice detrimentally small. "Hotch?"

Aaron's head lifted, his eyes immediately latching onto yours. It kept circling in his head; You missed your chance. You're missing your chance.

Despite the ongoing internal conflict, one he could resolve in a few simple words, he panicked.

"I don't see a reason not to." He rushed out, your heart plummeting into your stomach at his words. "Of course, don't do anything you're not comfortable with. But there's no harm in seeing if there's a connection."

Even as he spoke, he didn't sound like himself - as if someone else were doing the talking. Extremely feigned, forced. Speaking from his mind rather than his heart.

"Okay," You bit your lip, looking directly at him as you spoke. "I will."

As the others switched topics, your eyes stayed with Aaron's. A silent exchange drifted between the two of you, Spencer's current tangent seemingly miles away. Hurt, betrayal, a touch of something else too.

You exhaled deeply, turning to look out your window.

Whatever it was, it didn't matter now. Did it?

[nottsangel]

could we pleaseeee get more of the new girl au!

inspired by the new girl scene where they give cece the small towel :p

new girl au — in which you live with theodore, mattheo and lorenzo

from the bathroom, you can hear the faint, distant chatter of the boys in the living room, drowned out by the sound of the water splashing onto the cold shower tiles. you let out a deep sigh, running your fingers over your scalp to rinse away all the excess shampoo while giving yourself a quick, soothing massage.

you feel deeply relaxed, tension gradually melting away, but that peace quickly evaporates when you turn off the shower and stick your hand outside the shower curtain to grab your towel— only to realise you forgot to bring one.

“FUCK!” you scream out in frustration, instantly pulled out of your relaxed state as water drips from your bare skin and drenched hair, pooling around your feet. the chatter from the living room instantly stops, followed by a loud, confused “WHAT?” from enzo.

“I— UH, FORGOT MY TOWEL!” you yell back, urgently hoping they will grab one for you right away.

you then hear the sounds of shuffling feet, giggles and hushed murmurs, causing you to raise an eyebrow as you lean against the wall, arms crossed and your bare foot impatiently tapping on the wet floor. the door then abruptly swings open, the wood slamming against the wall, making you flinch as you see three blurred silhouettes through the shower curtain.

“thank god. took you guys long enough.” you grumble, reaching your arm past the curtain and snatching the towel from whoever is holding it.

“you’re a very lucky girl to have such sweet roommates, vero?” theo teases, making you roll your eyes as you wrap the rough towel around your dripping body, but your eyes instantly widen when you glance down.

“what the fuck is this?!” you yell, aggressively jerking the curtain open, nearly ripping it from the rod. your narrowed eyes are glaring at the three boys standing in front of you, your hands gesturing at the tiny towel wrapped around your wet body.

“oh… fuck.” mattheo murmurs under his breath, his eyes hungrily glued to your exposed body, just like the other two boys. their mouths hang half-open, not even bothering to hide the fact that they’re staring, with smug, lopsided smirks plastered on their stupid faces. your tits are nearly spilling out of the thin fabric with your ass barely covered, your arms desperately holding the towel up.

“you idiots! this is a hand towel!” you grunt in frustration, the tiny towel barely covering your body, leaving very little to the imagination. all three boys can feel their pants uncomfortably tighten, their eyes darkening at the sight of you while licking their lips.

“yeaaahh… sorry about that. this is the best we could find, i promise!” mattheo shrugs, a cocky, mischievous grin spreading across his face, but his eyes still not leaving your drenched body as you step out of the shower and shoot him a disapproving look.

“well, i think it fits perfectly, if you ask me. tsk, always so ungrateful...” enzo adds, giving you a teasing wink. you stride towards him, your brows furrowed in irritation, his self-satisfied expression only infuriating you further.

“sorry, what was that?” you retort, your head slightly tilted and a mocking expression of faux confusion on your face, daring enzo to repeat himself.

“i said, i think it fits—” but before he can finish his sentence, you’re wringing your hair out all over him, causing him to flinch as you make a wet, dripping mess all over his clothes.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!” enzo yells, his smug expression rapidly shifting into one of disbelief as he stumbles back while staring down at his soaked clothes. theo and mattheo quickly run off, knowing they’re next, their loud, giddy giggles echoing through the hallway.

you immediately sprint after them, your one hand tightly clutching the small towel to prevent it from sliding off, while your other hand holds your wet, dripping hair up, determined to not let them get away with this.

“NEXT TIME IT’LL BE A KNIFE I’M CHASING YOU WITH, YOU HEAR ME?!”

ੈ♡˳

reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! ♡

[starrymix]

having some thoughts after seeing certain… sunday artwork and animations

was also reading one of my drafts and somehow something i wrote about sunday being a cryer became canon so hell yeah baby

tags: NSFW!! imagining this as a post-astral express sunday in a new relationship with the reader. also a great post for all you dacryphilia mfs (me)

poor angel is probably so lost about everything now. what is he supposed to do now without so much burden and control on his shoulders that he was always so used to?

god i cannot imagine how PENT up this brainwashed youth pastor must be. absolutely no experience in this avenue.

honestly, he’ll constantly tuck himself right behind those wings of his during any new intimate stage you two reach. bro can NOT handle being vulnerable.

he’ll do it when you see him naked for the first time, when your hands glide over his smooth body, when you whisper how beautiful he is in his ear. hell, he’ll even do it as your lips trail down his neck, especially if you land on a particular sensitive spot. this man will also get extremely flustered if you mark him up in any way, even if his clothes completely cover up any significant ones.

sunday for sure whines and whimpers in bed and will immediately try to cover them up, though a lot will definitely be slipping through. it’s going to take plenty of convincing and patience before you can get him to let them all out freely.

lets out the loudest gasp when your fingers push inside of him for the first time. it’s so weird and foreign to him yet he would never tell you to stop. he’ll let out the most pathetic cries as you plunge in and out of him. he’s already tearing up so much from the sensations of you stretching him out.

when he’s nearing the edge, he’ll instinctively reach out for your wrist, his nails digging into your skin as he weakly tries to stop you. poor boy is completely unfamiliar with a prostate orgasm that the oncoming feeling is so strange and unfamiliar to him.

and then it all finally hits him and it’s so good and yet so much that it’s almost unbearable. his legs are shaking uncontrollably as he’s letting full blown tears stream down his cheeks. his wings are so longer covering his face and are now fluttering around his head.

you probably need to give him a good few minutes or so to properly recover. of course during that wait, you need to pepper his face with kisses in order to soothe him.

let’s just hope he can handle what’s coming next.

an: that’s where i’m gonna end it off for now. unfortunately i don’t have the skills (or courage) yet to do more explicit scenes (😔) but with the way my sunday fixation is going there’s probably going to be many more

oh yeah this is also my first real smut post on this blog so i hope yall enjoy it

[diddybok]

Request: Skz accidentally finding out one of reader’s kinks… could be a drabble or text! <3

oh my god…yes. happy birthday to me😌

18+ below the cut peeps

all characters depicted in my writing are from my own imagination and do NOT in anyway represent nor reflect the people in real life :)

➩pairing: hyung line x gn!reader

➩genre(s): smut

➩warnings: swearing, unprotected sex, kinks: hair pulling, spit, choking, humiliation. penetration (not specified what hole. this one is for all the delulus out there)

➩author’s note: yeah, smut. just nasty smut. mAy have gotten carried away with this. mAy have had some revelations. mAy be chronically down bad for hyunjin after this…and EYE wrote it.

➩part(s): next

chris | hair pulling | 0.9k (955) words

You were laying on the bed next to Chris. You watching the newest installment of the Bridgerton series, and he playing Pokemon Go. Your friends and the boys constantly tease the two of you saying that you act like a couple when really you aren’t. Chris gets annoyed, much more than he likes to admit, at the constant allegation. However, you don’t pay it any mind. If anything you add fuel to the fire. 

Ping…ping…ping

You groan loudly and press pause on your show. 

“If you could be so kind to turn the ringer on your phone off? I’m trying to watch a sexy scene and your pinging is taking me out the moment!” You say turning your attention to Chris, his eyes still glued to the screen. 

He just hums in response but makes no move to flip the switch on the side of his phone. 

Ping…ping…ping

He chuckles lowly before swiping the notification up to continue his battle. You crawl over to him and snatch his phone from his hand. It seems you will have to see for yourself just who is blowing up his phone. 

“Y/n give it back!” He reaches over to grab the phone but you turn your whole body away from him, laughing as you curl up tightly trying to read the notifications. 

“My my my, who is Aaliyah?” You gasp dramatically. “I miss you so much baby, can’t wait ‘til I can see you again, need you bad Channie” You mimic in a high pitched voice. 

“Y/n I’m serious just give it back!” He growls. It has now turned into a scramble of sorts. You underneath, curled up in a foetal position. Him, on top as he tries to pry your body open to retrieve his phone. 

Chris accidentally releases his grasp on you and in that moment you roll from underneath him.  Planning to escape out of his room, you hastily make a move to climb off the bed. 

It all happened so quickly. The grab. The noise. The drop of the phone. The awkward silence. 

In your attempt to flee, Chris had grabbed you by your hair and yanked you back. You could have wailed, could have screamed, but you did neither. No, what you did was far worse. 

You had released a guttural moan. 

You. Moaning because Chris pulled your hair. 

Neither of you dared to speak, nor look each other in the eyes. You were embarrassed to say the least. Your best friend had just discovered that you have a hair pulling kink. He on the other hand took one too many deep breaths to calm himself. He has never heard you make a noise like that before. Much less because of him. 

“I, ahem- your phone. I’m sorry…you can have it back.” You say keeping your eyes glued to his bedsheets as you slide the phone over to his leg. 

You go to retract your hand quickly so that you can go get a glass of water to cool yourself down. He grabs your wrist almost instantaneously. Not letting you get far at all. 

“Look at me.” He demands. You do as he says, slowly bringing your eyes to meet his. You don’t have to look down at his chest to detect the way it rises and falls heavily. 

He gently runs his hand all the way up your arm, an agenda clearly on his mind. You’re frozen in place as you feel his hand creep to the nape of your neck, his fingers spreading wide as they make their way into your hair. 

Without warning, he tugs your head back harshly causing another involuntary moan to fall from your lips. A soft gasp is released from Chris, clearly enjoying the way you react to the action. 

You guess that’s how you found yourself in this predicament. Knees no doubt bruising as you take Chris’ cock repeatedly down the depths of your throat. 

His hand was embedded deeply into your hair, gripping it tight and using it as a leverage to fuck himself into your mouth.

“Fuck~ just like that Y/n. Mm, m’gonna use you as my personal fuck toy. Forget all the other girls I see. Just pull your hair whenever I need you huh? I don’t know why I didn’t think about it earlier.” Chris says more to himself than to you, releasing a small whine. 

The picture that this will leave in your mind is sure to be one that will fog your brain for the next couple of months at least. You never really thought about Chris in this way. Perhaps in the beginning stages of your friendship, but it quickly went away when you found out he was a manwhore. 

Nothing wrong with that of course, you never had any reason to judge him for it. But god if this is what you were missing. You most definitely would not mind being his personal fuck toy. Platonically of course…

Your eyes are currently watering, as you gag and swallow. Making Chris grip your hair tighter making you moan. That was the breaking point for him as he unloads into your mouth. Not giving you any chance to waste a single drop. 

He releases his hold on you, slowly pulling out of your mouth before slapping the tip on your cheek a couple times.

You look up at him, your glossed over eyes making him coo at you as he strokes your head softly.

“I hope your head isn’t too sore yet, ‘cause I’m gonna use it to fuck you back onto my cock, okay?” Chris says with a devilish smile. 

Forget the sexy scene on television, you’re currently living in the sexiest one of all!

minho | spit | 0.6k (673) words

You and Minho are getting ready for bed after a long day of camping activities. You’re going back home from Korea tomorrow night so you wanted to spend as much time with your best friend as you could. 

Even if that meant agreeing to do whatever he says for the last few days you shared together. Surprisingly, it was a lot of fun. You went fishing and caught a fish. You learnt how to build a campfire from scratch. Went kayaking and almost tipped it over. Let Minho spit in your mouth—

Wait, what?

You shake your head to come back to reality. Minho swirls water around in his mouth before spitting it out into the sink. 

He wipes his mouth as he looks up at you, your gaze seemingly transfixed onto his mouth. 

He still tastes the toothpaste in his mouth so he leans back over the sink about to spit, but then he looks up at you. Holding your unwavering gaze. 

He spits slowly, the saliva descending down into the sink. As it disconnects, he licks his bottom lip smirking at you.

You watched the whole ordeal, obviously. Which explains why you suddenly squeeze your thighs, shifting from one foot to another. 

“Either I’m living in a dream right now, or you, Y/n, are simply filthy.”

“Huh?” You say blinking rapidly. 

“Huh? Huh?” He mocks, walking over to you. 

What is wrong with you? Snap out of it! That is your best friend, you definitely should not be thinking about him spitting in your mouth as you get pounded by his dick. 

“I can practically hear your thoughts. That or you’re speaking aloud.” He smirks, now inches away from your face. 

It seems you finally regain consciousness as your hands claw at the sheets. Minho pummels you from behind at a relentless pace, making you drool. 

You hear him chuckle, his hand falling beneath your chin to catch any saliva before bringing it up to smear on your mouth. 

His hand moves to the underside of your jaw, forcing your head back. Your view of him now upside down as he doesn’t slow the pace. 

“Are you gonna admit that you’re a filthy little slut who likes spit?” He teases, smiling down at you. 

You can only mewl in response, he’s got you going dumb and he certainly enjoys it.

Bringing his hand up to your cheeks, he squeezes gently. Getting you to open your mouth. You do, even going as far to stick your tongue out. 

“Oh look how obedient you are.” He spits into your mouth. His hold on your jaw releases as he moves that hand to cup your chest, hoisting you up so your back, though arched, is against his chest. 

He fucks up into you. The sound of skin slapping against skin and both of your moans fill the tent. Those other poor people are no doubt just trying to enjoy their family camping trip, and here comes the two of you; unapologetically loud as shit. 

“M-Minho…m’close.” You whine. He just chuckles in response, stroking that sweet spot inside of you to push you over the edge. 

It isn’t long before you’re quivering on him, your body already becoming limp as your eyes roll into the back of your head reaching that sweet release. Before you can lavish in the feeling, you’re pulled off of him and he guides your head back to his pelvis. 

“You’re gonna swallow every last drop I give you m’kay? No spitting this out sweetheart.” Minho says as he moans. Pumping himself faster as he unloads his seed into your mouth which you gladly swallow. 

He uses the tip of his cock to smear any remnants of his climax on your lips. He smiles down at you, praising you for doing such a good job whilst also saying how dirty you are. 

This will certainly make your relationship with him all the more questionable. Let’s hope it won’t be the only thing that clouds your mind on the flight home!

changbin | choking | 0.8k (898) words

You and Changbin are in the park having a cutesy little picnic. You may or may not have forced him to come with you since your other friends cancelled at the last minute and you had prepared so much. It’s good that you and Changbin are so alike because neither of you like to waste any food. 

You have both been snacking on some grapes, when you look down and see there is only one left on the vine. Quickly whilst his attention was elsewhere, you pluck the grape from its vine. 

You turn your head as you go to put the grape into your mouth, but a firm hand on your wrist stops you. 

“You swear you’re like a ninja.” Changbin laughs as you turn to look at him with squinted eyes. He just shakes his head, his other hand held out awaiting the grape. 

You look at his hand, the grape, his hand again and then back up to his face. 

“If you think I’m giving you this grape, then you are surely mistaken.” You say, you’re tone curt. 

Changbin looks at you, before shaking his head overzealously. You look at him confused. 

“Why are you shaking your head at me?”

“Sorely.”

“What?” 

“You said surely mistaken. It’s sorely mistaken, doofus.” He says before bursting out into a fit of laughter. 

You look momentarily taken aback, a quiet ‘oh’ coming out of your mouth before you look at Changbin’s laughing state. 

“For that, I’m taking the grape.” He says, plucking the grape from your hand and putting it in his mouth. He starts to chew it teasingly in your face, closing his eyes as he does so. 

Successfully irked, you lunge towards him from your seated position. Unfortunately for your lacklustre skills, he easily manoeuvres you so that your back is against his chest as his bicep and forearm enclose your throat. 

He squeezes playfully, well aware that the two of you are in public. 

“Nice try, munchkin. You’re gonna have to be faster than that.” Changbin gloats. 

You bring your hands up to hold his arm, your hands barely able to enclose his whole forearm. You try to pry his arm off but it’s to no avail as he doesn’t budge. 

He squeezes tighter, his mouth moving closer to your ears. 

“You know I’m not even trying right?” He teasingly whispers into your ear. 

“Bin unhand me.” You plead. 

“What, you’ve given up already?”

“If you squeeze my throat any tighter, I am not responsible for the…sounds that will come out of me.” You say tapping his forearm. 

Changbin’s eyes widen slightly as he realises what you meant. He releases you and you crawl back to the other side of the picnic blanket, fixing your outfit and your hair, pretending like you didn’t say what you just said. 

“You mean to tell me that me choking you was turning you on?” He asks with genuinity. 

You turn to him, shrugging a little. The way you act so nonchalant clearly has an effect on him as he tries not to get turned on himself. 

It didn’t work, for either of you, as you find yourself in the back of his car sitting on his legs as his fingers pump viciously in and out of you. 

“Shh, you gotta be quiet. Don’t want people to start getting suspicious.” Changbin speaks into your ear. 

You do your best to be quiet, but you don’t trust yourself so you put a hand over your mouth. 

“Fuck you’re gripping my fingers so tight. Mm I can’t wait to ruin you. ‘Cause I’m gonna. Yeah, fuck you clenched when I said that. Want me to ruin you, don’t you my sweet?” Changbin purrs. 

Your other hand grips his thigh, the coil within the pit of your stomach starting to tighten. You remove your hand from your mouth as your breath starts to quicken, small whines being released here and there. 

“Bin, I can’t hold it.” You whine. 

“You don’t have to hold it sweetness. Come for me.” He says his hand going to your neck and pressing on the sides of your throat. 

The restriction of air and the squeeze of his hand mixed with his fingers has you seeing stars. Your moan caught in your throat as you orgasm. The lack of air prolongs your release and unfortunately for Changbin, you make a mess all over the backseat of his car. 

He smiles as he watches you get lost in the pleasure. He loosens his grip on your neck and relishes in your pants as you try to catch your breath. 

“Well I’m going to need to deep clean my car, but it was so worth it.” Changbin says, rubbing you through your high and placing a soft kiss to the side of your head. 

You move yourself off of his lap, momentarily looking out the window to see if there were any wanderers that got too curious. Taking a deep breath your eyes meet Changbin’s and he looks at you with a sweet, unwavering smile. 

“What’s that look for?…” 

“Oh nothing, just thinking about all the places m’gonna fuck you when we get back to mine.” Changbin says, his smile widening even more. 

Oh wow, you’re in for a long night ahead of you. Better hope those grapes gave you enough energy for the rest of the day!

hyunjin | humiliation | 1.4k (1446) words

Hyunjin is teaching you part of his dance routine in the studio. You were bored, and teaching somebody helps him to recount the steps. 

For the most part, you were able to keep up with him. Picking up the steps with ease until there was a particularly hard move. 

You can see the frustration building on Hyunjin’s face as you keep messing up this step. The one he tried to teach you fifteen minutes ago…

“Y/n no. Lift your arm like this, this.” He says demonstrating the correct way to do it. 

You copy the motion. You think that you are nailing it and that he is just being too pedantic which explains his elongated sigh. 

“Hyunjin, I don't know what you think I’m doing wrong. I’m literally doing it the way you do it!” You say, now getting frustrated at him and his perfectionist ways. 

He looks at you through the mirror, scoffing and doing the dance move how you did it. Clearly over-exaggerating the way you did it. 

“Does that look right to you? No, it doesn’t. It’s not even a hard step Y/n and you’re struggling to do it.” He says, walking back over to the laptop to replay the song. 

This is embarrassing. You should feel embarrassed. Yet you hide a smile. There’s something about the way Hyunjin gets riled up and then proceeds to belittle you for clearly not being a professional dancer like he is. 

Ridiculous isn’t it?

“Okay let’s go from the top.” Hyunjin says, counting the both of you in. 

The song plays and you both dance to the rhythm. Everything was going swell until you purposefully messed up a move that you know you have no trouble doing. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake!”

You wish you could take a mental picture of Hyunjin’s scowl and print it out. He looks at you, almost pitiful as he turns down the music, his hands on his hip as his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek. 

“What are you fucking inept or something? What’s going on? You don’t know your left from your rights? Hm? You need me to teach you the alphabet whilst we’re at it?” Hyunjin taunts, now walking towards you. 

You say nothing, looking up at him with eyes as innocent as you can get them. 

“Cat caught your tongue? Or have you just become so dumb that you can’t even speak anymore?” Hyunjin speaks lowly, backing you into the full length mirror. 

He raises a single eyebrow at you, waiting for you to say something. He huffs out a laugh when he realises you’re not going to respond, but rather cower beneath him. 

You really are spoiled aren’t you? It seems it is so because you got whatever you wanted from this. One moment he pinned you up against the wall, you shoving your tongue down his throat. Then he was shoving his dick down your throat. And now here you are, on all fours, forced to watch as he thrusts harshly into you from behind. 

“This what you needed hm? You just needed to be fucked didn’t you. Naw, dumb baby’s just too stupid to ask for what they want so they decide to piss me off instead huh?” Hyunjin grunts landing a smack on your backside. 

You moan embarrassingly loud, jolting forwards slightly as you feel the impact of his hand on your flesh. 

The song plays in the background adding to the already sexual tension that is in the dance studio. 

Hyunjin stops thrusting, looking at you in the mirror as you stumble a little. The rhythm of thrusts throwing you off as your hips stutter in their movement. 

“You’re gonna fuck yourself on my dick to the beat of the song. See if you’re not completely useless. It would be wise not to piss me off further so if you do a good job, maybe I’ll be nice.” Hyunjin says crossing his arms. 

You wait to see if he was bluffing, looking back at him only to be met with a raise of his eyebrow. You turn back around, meeting his gaze in the mirror. You tune your ears to the song and start throwing it back to the beat. (y’all why this make me bust out laughing okay sorry continue.)

For the first two counts of eight, you were doing pretty well. Matching each beat with the sound of your bottom colliding with his pelvis. He watches you intently as if it were you dancing. He bites his lip, holding back his own moans. 

The chorus of the song comes along and you miss a count. You try to catch up by speeding up your movements, but that just feels too good. Hyunjin tsks at you. 

“You can’t even do this correctly. How embarrassing Y/n. Is there anything you can do without my help?” Hyunjin says shaking his head as he grabs both of your arms. 

You clench around him at his words, making his tough exterior falter ever so slightly as he curses under his breath at the way you squeeze him so tightly. 

He holds your arms like handles as he repeatedly slams you back onto him. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and then close tightly as he reaches deeper, continuously hitting that sweet spot inside. 

“You better open your fuckin’ eyes and watch as you take what I give you.” He says, his tongue coming out to wet his lip as he smirks mischievously. 

You flutter your eyes open, meeting his gaze in the mirror as your mouth hangs open releasing silent moans. Who knew that being humiliated would turn you on to the point it has? You watch his face contort into concentration. Sweat pouring down his face and falling onto your lower back. 

“Hyune, just like that, please. I’m so close.” You whine. 

He tilts his head, one of his hands releasing your wrist to reach beneath you and between your thighs, rubbing you quickly.

“Oh yeah? And you think you deserve it?” He teases. 

You nod relentlessly, not even caring for his permission as you spasm around him as he lands a particularly powerful thrust. 

As he watches you come undone on him he scoffs a laugh, shaking his head before chasing his own release. 

“Mm, where’d you want it? Inside? So it drips down your thighs for everyone to see? Ah fuck, yeah I think so.” He says, small whines leaving his throat. 

He pushes your body all the way down as he now lays on top of you, rutting into you. He lifts one leg up to ground him so he can reach deeper, the rocking motion overstimulating you as you convulse around him once more. You choke out a sob, tears starting to run down your face. 

He catches your expression in the mirror, the tears streaming down and it sends him over the edge. With one final rock, he stills as his cock twitches deep inside of you. Painting your walls white deep inside. 

He rests his forehead on the back of your head. Both of you spent as the sounds of heavy breathing and the song fill the room. 

He slowly pulls out of you, both of you whining at the loss of the warmth. He rolls you over, placing a kiss to the underside of your jaw. 

“Y/n? Are you still with me?” He asks, glancing over your face and down your body. He sees some of his cum trailing out of you and he uses his fingers to push it back in. Fixated on the way your hole envelopes his fingers so accommodatingly. 

He only stops when he feels your hand push his chest and he chuckles lightly. 

“You know you really don’t take orders well. I think I need to train you.” He says, brushing a stray hair out of your face as you finally open your eyes and look up at him. 

He hums softly, admiring you before getting up and sorting himself out so that he is decent to the eyes of the public again. 

“Get up. That wasn’t a reward, you’re going to just have to dance with my cum running down your legs now. The quicker you get the choreography, the quicker you’ll get to shower.” Hyunjin says walking over to the laptop and restarting the song. 

He leaves you to get yourself up on wobbly arms and you smile to yourself. He should know by now that you most certainly do not put up without a fight. 

Hopefully you don’t “accidentally” mess up any more of the moves and make him belittle you again…

ʚ hope you enjoyed ^.^ you can support me by liking, commenting and reblogging! it is heavily appreciated ᵕ̈ ɞ

i do not permit my work to be translated or reposted in any way, thank you.

© 2023 diddybok

[solxamber]

I love your stories 🥰 they’re so cute. Can I request Malleus Tsum and his S/O’s Tsum dropping in for a visit, but these Tsum’s are from the future so they bring their little Tsum offspring to show off to their non-Tsum counterparts, and the diasomnia crew.

Visited by your Tsums! - Malleus x reader

I loved this ask, its adorable!

The first sign that today was going to be anything but normal was the soft plop you heard at your feet. You looked down to see something small, round, and suspiciously familiar.

“Malleus?” you blinked. "Why are you… tiny?"

At your feet stood a tiny, Tsum version of Malleus, his beady eyes staring back at you as if this were the most normal thing in the world. You were just about to reach down when—plop—your Tsum counterpart appeared right next to him, and before you could even process that, three more Tsums—small, round, and suspiciously dragon-like—plopped right down between them.

“Malleus!” you squawked, eyes wide. “Why do we have Tsum kids?!”

Real-Malleus (the non-Tsum version) was beside you in an instant, looking as bewildered as you felt but also… ridiculously happy? He knelt beside the tiny family, eyes practically glowing. “It appears we’ve been visited… by our future.”

“You mean our future Tsums. With… our Tsum kids,” you added, still trying to wrap your mind around what was happening. “How do Tsums even reproduce?”

Just as Malleus was about to respond, Lilia swooped in, his eyes lighting up at the sight. “Grandchildren!” he squealed, sweeping up the tiny Tsum-children in his hands like they were the most precious things in the world. “Oh, this is wonderful! Look at their little wings! And their tiny horns! I knew this day would come, but not so soon!”

“Grandchildren?!” you yelped, cheeks burning. “Lilia, wait a second—Malleus and I only just started dating!”

Lilia, completely ignoring your flustered protests, was already cradling the Tsum babies like a doting grandfather, eyes misty with joy. “Oh, they’re perfect! Look at these little faces! I always knew you two would make beautiful children!”

You felt your face heat up as you glanced at Malleus, who was watching the scene with an expression that could only be described as giddy.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” Malleus said, voice soft but tinged with awe. “Our future looks… very promising.”

You could only blink at him, your brain short-circuiting. “We’re not even close to that stage yet!”

“Perhaps not,” Malleus mused, “but the future clearly holds… delightful things.”

Before you could respond, Sebek stormed in, his face torn between utter disbelief and something bordering on reverence. “WHAT IS THIS?!” he bellowed, pointing an accusatory finger at the Tsums. “ARE THOSE… LORD MALLEUS’S CHILDREN?!”

“Well, not technically children—they’re more like… future-Tsum-offspring,” you tried to explain, but Sebek’s brain had already short-circuited.

“I… I don’t understand! How could—A HUMAN?! WITH MY LORD?!” Sebek wailed, torn between his intense loyalty to Malleus and his confusion over the fact that his beloved Lord had apparently made mini-Tsum children with a human.

Lilia, still blissfully ignoring the chaos, began bouncing the Tsum babies in his arms. “Don’t you just love it, Sebek? Grandchildren already! They’re perfect, just like I imagined!”

“GRANDCHILDREN?!” Sebek practically choked, his voice hitting a pitch that was probably illegal in most regions. “But—Lord Malleus—human—children—I—I DON’T KNOW HOW TO FEEL!”

“I think it’s lovely,” Silver commented from his spot in the corner, looking half-asleep but clearly entertained. “Though… are they going to stay for dinner?”

You stared at the Tsums, then at Malleus, and then back at the Tsums. “Is this… like a sneak peek of our future? Is that what this is?”

Tsum-you and Tsum-Malleus both bobbed their heads as if to say, yes, of course.

Malleus, positively glowing with excitement, bent down to inspect the tiny offspring, his voice full of awe. “Our children… They take after you,” he said softly, turning to you with a fond smile.

Your heart did a little flip, and you rubbed the back of your neck, trying to fight the urge to melt on the spot. “Yeah, but… we’re not even—y’know—there yet.”

“True,” Malleus mused, but his smile didn’t fade. “But I look forward to that day.”

Lilia, meanwhile, was already planning the family reunion, holding up one of the Tsum-children like Simba “Sebek, take a look! Your Lord’s legacy! His tiny, adorable legacy!”

Sebek, still torn between utter confusion and blind loyalty, managed to sputter out, “Lord Malleus’s children… even if they’re Tsums… Oh my god, it’s my Lord’s children.” His voice dropped to a whisper, and he sank to one knee in reverence.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight, shaking your head. “This is the weirdest day of my life.”

“And yet,” Malleus said, stepping closer to you, “I find myself… delighted.”

You glanced up at him, still flustered but starting to feel the warmth of his excitement. “Yeah, I guess it’s… kinda cute.”

Malleus leaned in, his voice a low, rumbling whisper. “One day, we’ll have our own family. I look forward to it.”

You flushed, but you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see, huh?”

Tsum-you and Tsum-Malleus squeaked in agreement, as they bounced happily between their future offspring.

“Well,” you said, giving the tiny family one last look, “if this is what the future holds… I guess it doesn’t look so bad after all.”

Masterlist

[shybluebirdninja]

Swipe Right, Bub

Summary: Logan’s usually tough persona crumbles when he gets nervous before your Tinder date, and it’s clear he has no idea how dating apps work.

Pairing             : Mutant!Logan Howlett x Human!Fem-reader Genre              : Fluff

Logan wasn’t sure how the hell he ended up here. Sitting at a bar, staring at his phone like it was about to explode, waiting for a Tinder date. Tinder. He hated that damn app. The whole swiping thing made him feel like an idiot. And the fact he’d even gotten matched? Probably a glitch.

But here he was, in a flannel that was definitely not “date night material” and boots that still had a bit of mud on them. Real smooth.

When the door swung open, you stepped in, scanning the room for him. Logan straightened up like he’d just been caught doing something illegal, but when your eyes landed on him, you smiled. Shit, he thought, she’s way outta my league. You were looking real nice—too nice for someone like him who smelled like cigars and had seen more fights than anyone should in ten lifetimes.

You waved, walking over, and Logan fought the urge to bolt out of the bar. This was stupid. He wasn’t cut out for this kind of thing.

“Hey, Logan, right?” you asked, sliding onto the stool next to him.

“Uh, yeah. That’s me,” he muttered, already fidgeting with the label on his beer bottle like it was suddenly the most interesting thing in the room.

The awkward silence stretched for a beat, and Logan could feel the sweat gathering under his collar. You looked way too comfortable, like you were doing this for fun while he was sitting there trying not to screw up everything.

“First Tinder date?” you asked, clearly amused by his discomfort.

Logan let out a low grunt. “Somethin’ like that. Ain’t exactly my thing.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured.” You grinned, leaning in a bit. “You look like the type who’d smash his phone before swiping right.”

“Almost did,” Logan admitted, running a hand through his wild hair. “Had to get the damn app downloaded twice ‘cause I broke the first phone.”

You laughed—like, full-on laughed—and Logan couldn’t help but smirk a little. At least you weren’t bored.

“So,” you started, leaning on the bar, “you’re, uh, not big on technology then?”

Logan shook his head, his fingers tapping the bar in some anxious rhythm. “Last time I trusted somethin’ mechanical, it was trying to kill me. Ain’t a fan.”

“That sounds... dramatic.”

“You’d be surprised.” He took a swig of his beer, trying to calm down the stupid fluttering in his chest. Was he… nervous? He’d fought in wars, been stabbed more times than he could count, but a simple date was making him sweat like a rookie.

You started chatting, talking about your job, your hobbies, how weird the whole dating app scene was. Logan didn’t say much, but honestly, he didn’t mind. You were easy to listen to. You weren’t pushy, not asking him a ton of questions, and it was nice.

But you noticed after a while, because of course you did. “Oh god, I’m just talking your ear off, aren’t I?” you said, looking a little embarrassed. “I haven’t even asked anything about you.”

Logan just shrugged, trying to act casual. “Don’t mind listenin’. You’re good at it.”

Shit, did that sound creepy? He cleared his throat, hoping you didn’t think he was being weird.

“You sure? I mean, you probably have way more interesting stories than I do. You seem like the type who’s lived a pretty wild life,” you teased, sipping your drink.

Logan gave a small, gruff chuckle. “Yeah, you could say that.” He didn’t exactly want to drop the “I’ve lived for over a century and fought in every war imaginable” bomb. Not the best first date conversation.

But you just smiled, completely oblivious to his internal struggle. “Well, next round, it’s your turn to talk. Fair’s fair, right?”

“Yeah… maybe,” he muttered, looking away. He wasn’t great at the whole “opening up” thing. He’d rather let you ramble about your dog or how you almost burned your apartment down trying to make pasta. That was easy stuff.

You reached out, patting his arm, and Logan stiffened like he’d just been hit with a stun gun.

“Don’t worry,” you said, with that killer smile of yours. “I’m not gonna grill you. But if you ever wanna share any of those stories, I’m all ears.”

Logan tried to play it cool, but the second you touched his arm, his brain short-circuited. Smooth, real smooth, he thought, glaring at his beer like it was to blame for how awkward he was being.

Just then, your phone buzzed, and you glanced down at it, frowning. “Ah, crap, sorry, work’s calling. Gotta run,” you said, standing up. Logan’s heart sank a little. The night was over, and he hadn’t even gotten a chance to not screw things up.

But then, out of nowhere, you leaned down and kissed his cheek. And just like that, the Wolverine—the guy who had metal claws and could heal from a damn nuclear bomb—blushed. Full-on, red-faced, no-way-to-hide-it blushed.

“I had a great time,” you said softly. “Maybe we can do this again?”

Logan, caught completely off guard, could barely form a coherent thought. “Uh, yeah. Sure. If you, uh, want. I mean, yeah. Definitely. Next time.”

You smiled, amused at his sudden inability to speak, and gave a little wave. “Cool. I’ll text you.”

Logan watched you leave, still sitting there, his face burning, his heart doing things it hadn’t done in decades. He couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face as he muttered to himself, “Holy shit, she’s gonna text me.”

[goldfades]

𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈'𝐌 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇 / 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐍' 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐉𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐍 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ─ PB⁵

TRACK 22 ─── SO HIGH SCHOOL

TTPD CELLY MASTERLIST !

౨ৎ ─ summary | you've been dating paige for a few months, and as your relationship deepens, the playful tension and shared moments of affection—whether it's her teasing touches during late-night gaming or her sweet gestures off the court—make you fall for her even harder, feeling like the luckiest person in the world. paige effortlessly blends her fierce athleticism with her soft, caring side, reminding you every day why you adore her

─ word count | 4.7k

─ warnings | nsfw (mdni) with lots of plot, light descriptions of fingering (reader receiving) while kk and ice r in the room, fluffy nonetheless! absolute cuteness and pretty light and sweet, slight hurt/comfort, ummmm nothing else im pretty sure

─ ev's notes | the long awaited so high school fic !!!!! and im back in the paige buckets era ! i hope everyone enjoys this as a part of my very late continuation of my ttpd masterlist

You’ve been dating Paige for a couple of months now, and somehow, everything still feels brand new. Each time you’re with her, it’s like your heart never quite learned to stop fluttering. She’s become the center of your world, and while things got serious between the two of you quickly, it feels just right—like you’ve found something rare. Something special.

You sit on the bleachers, watching Paige at practice. The squeak of sneakers on hardwood echoes through the gym as her team runs drills, but your focus is all on her—her sharp movements, the way she commands the court with such ease. You catch her looking over at you from time to time, and each time, you can’t help but grin. Paige grins back, shaking her head, as if she knows she’s getting distracted but can’t help it.

As practice winds down, you make your way down to the court. Paige jogs over, her face flushed from exertion, but there’s that familiar spark in her eyes when she sees you. “You’re trouble, you know that?” she says, laughing as she wipes sweat from her forehead.

“Oh yeah? How so?”

“You’re all I could think about today. Coach is probably going to kill me for zoning out so much.”

You smirk, leaning closer. “Glad to know I’m getting in your head, Bueckers.”

Later, in her dorm, the two of you are sprawled out on her bed, just talking. The conversation drifts to your first impressions of each other, and you start reminiscing about how you always dreamed of dating someone like her back in high school.

“You know,” you begin, eyes tracing the ceiling as you talk, “I used to fantasize about dating someone on the basketball team. Like, I wanted to be that person who wore their jersey on game days, made posters, and cheered them on from the front row. But... I never got to do any of that.”

Paige is quiet for a moment, but you can feel her eyes on you. When you glance over, she’s smiling—soft, thoughtful. “Why not?”

“I don’t know, I guess I never had the chance. It was always just a daydream.”

Paige sits up, crossing her legs as she reaches for something. You watch as she pulls out one of her jerseys from a drawer and holds it out to you. “Well,” she says, her voice playful but sincere, “now you can.”

Your heart skips a beat. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously. Wear it to the next game. Make a poster if you want. Go all out.”

You take the jersey from her, the fabric soft and warm in your hands, and your smile grows impossibly wide. “You’re gonna regret this,” you tease, already imagining the scene in your head.

“Not a chance,” she replies, leaning over to kiss your cheek. “I can’t wait to see it.”

───

It’s been a rough day. That exam you’d been stressing over for weeks didn’t go the way you’d hoped, and the weight of it presses down on you as you slump into the chair in Paige’s dorm. You’re quiet, distracted, the disappointment gnawing at you, and Paige notices immediately.

“Hey,” she says softly, her voice cutting through the fog in your mind. “You okay?”

You try to smile, shrugging it off. “Yeah, just... had a bad exam. It’s fine.”

But Paige knows you better than that.

She doesn’t push, just crosses the room with that easy grace she always has, sitting down beside you. Her presence alone feels like a comfort, like a steadying force in the middle of your chaos. She reaches for your hand, her fingers warm as they intertwine with yours.

“Talk to me, baby.” She says gently.

You sigh, running your free hand through your hair. “I just—I don’t know. I thought I had it. I studied, I worked so hard, and still… it wasn’t enough.” Your voice cracks a little at the end, and you hate how vulnerable it sounds, how it feels like everything you’ve been holding together is coming undone in front of her.

Paige shifts closer, her hand giving yours a reassuring squeeze. “I get it,” she murmurs, her tone soft but strong. “But one bad exam doesn’t change anything. You’re still amazing, and you’re still working your ass off. You’re going to be okay.”

Her words settle over you like a blanket, warm and steady, but it’s not just what she’s saying—it’s how she’s saying it. Like she believes in you so fully, even when you don’t believe in yourself. You glance up, meeting her blue eyes, and there’s nothing but sincerity there, nothing but love.

Paige shifts again, her hand moving to your back, tracing gentle circles between your shoulder blades. The touch is tender, unhurried, and it’s enough to ease some of the tightness in your chest. She leans in, pressing her forehead to yours. “I’m proud of you, baby. No matter what.”

The words hit you deep, and you feel a lump forming in your throat. You close your eyes, letting the warmth of her touch and her presence sink into you. For a moment, the disappointment fades, replaced by this quiet moment between the two of you. Paige’s breath is warm against your skin, her fingers steady as they trail up and down your back, grounding you.

“I don’t deserve you,” you murmur, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

Paige pulls back just enough to look at you, her brow furrowing slightly. “Don’t say that.” Her voice is firm, but there’s a softness to it. She leans in, kissing the corner of your mouth. “You deserve everything. You’re strong, and kind, and... I love you. That’s not changing because of some exam.”

The way she says it, the way her voice wraps around those three words, makes your heart swell. You’ve heard her say it before, but right now, in this moment, it feels like an anchor, pulling you out of the spiral of doubt and frustration.

You nod, swallowing hard, and Paige gives you a small, comforting smile before pulling you into her arms. You let yourself melt into her, your head resting on her shoulder as she holds you close. She smells like clean laundry and faintly of the gym, but to you, it’s the most comforting scent in the world.

She rubs your back in slow, soothing motions, her lips brushing against your temple. “I’m here, okay? Always.”

And somehow, with her arms around you and her quiet reassurances in your ear, the weight on your chest feels lighter. Not gone, but manageable. You sigh, feeling the tension leave your body, and you press a soft kiss to her collarbone in silent gratitude.

“Thank you,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

Paige just holds you tighter, her cheek resting against your hair. “Always,” she repeats softly, her fingers tracing slow, calming lines along your arm. And in that moment, wrapped up in her warmth and her love, the world doesn’t feel quite as heavy anymore.

───

"KK, you’re so shit." Ice yells, her voice cutting through the room as she throws her controller down dramatically. “How did you let me get sniped like that?”

KK rolls her eyes, her fingers still flying over the buttons. “Maybe if you weren’t running out in the open like a sitting duck, you’d be alive.”

Laughter erupts from the room, Paige chuckling beside you as her character jumps off a cliff in-game to make a quick escape. You sit close to her, legs tucked up under a blanket the two of you are sharing, your shoulder pressed against hers. The warmth of the blanket is nothing compared to the heat radiating between you, especially with how Paige’s arm occasionally brushes against yours, each touch sparking something that neither of you has addressed yet.

Paige lets out a low groan as her avatar gets eliminated. “Ugh, we’re so cooked.”

“You mean you’re cooked,” Ice teases, grinning as she watches the screen. “You keep getting distracted.”

You catch Paige’s eyes flicker toward you for a split second before she responds. “Whatever.”

Her teammates continue talking trash, but you barely hear them. Your focus has shifted, drawn completely to the way Paige leans just a little closer under the blanket, her thigh brushing against yours. It’s such a small, innocent touch, but it sends a shiver down your spine. The game blares from the screen, but all you can think about is how warm her skin feels against you, how every accidental nudge feels deliberate.

You shift slightly, adjusting the blanket, and in doing so, your fingers graze the side of her leg. Paige freezes for a split second, her hand still hovering over the controller, but then she clears her throat, refocusing on the screen in front of her. You glance at her from the corner of your eye and catch the slightest smirk playing on her lips.

“Okay, okay, I’m going full beast mode now,” Paige says, her voice low but filled with a new kind of energy. She’s leaning forward a little, but not enough to break the connection between you two. Her elbow brushes against your side again, and this time, it feels intentional.

KK, still playing, laughs. “Paige, you’re always full beast mode. You just suck tonight.”

“Shut up,” Paige mutters, her concentration slipping again as her fingers falter over the controls. She shifts back against the couch, her body pressing closer to yours, the tension between you almost tangible now. Her hand, resting on her lap, is so close to yours that you can feel the faintest brush of her knuckles.

You bite your lip, trying to stay focused on the game, or at least pretending to, but all you can feel is her presence, the way her body seems to gravitate toward yours. The noise of the room fades, the sounds of Ice and KK's bickering becoming background chatter as your attention zeroes in on Paige.

She’s pretending like she’s completely immersed in the game, but you know better. Her eyes flicker toward you again, the slightest glance, and her leg presses a little more firmly against yours, a silent acknowledgment of what’s brewing between you. The blanket covering you feels like it’s trapping heat, your heart beating faster, and you wonder if Paige can feel it too.

Without thinking, you shift again, this time allowing your fingers to brush more deliberately against her thigh. Paige’s breath hitches, almost imperceptibly, and she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she leans into the touch, her fingers tightening around the controller for a moment before she exhales slowly, the tension between you both crackling like static.

KK and Ice are still yelling about something on the screen, but you and Paige are in your own little bubble now. The blanket has become a shield, a cover for the way her pinky brushes against yours, so subtle but charged with meaning. You steal a glance at her face and see the way her lips part, her focus entirely split between the game and you now.

Paige shifts again, and this time, her knee nudges yours beneath the blanket. She doesn’t say anything, but her eyes flicker toward you once more, the corner of her mouth quirking up in a barely-there smile. There’s a challenge in her eyes, something playful but undeniably electric.

"Nice shot, P!" KK shouts suddenly, breaking the moment for just a second. Paige barely reacts, just lets out a breathy laugh, and you can tell she’s trying not to get too lost in the moment with you sitting so close.

“Yeah, uh, thanks,” Paige says, still distracted, her eyes darting to yours as her pinky hooks slightly around yours, hidden beneath the blanket.

The tension between you is thick now, unspoken but undeniable. The game continues on the screen, but neither of you is paying attention anymore. All you can think about is the heat radiating from her body, the way her touch lingers on yours like it’s the only thing grounding you both in this moment. The air feels heavy with something unspoken, something waiting to be acknowledged.

Your breath catches, and you wonder if she’s going to make a move or if she’s waiting for you to. The game blares on, Ice and KK oblivious, but for you and Paige, everything else has faded into the background.

As the game continues to play out on the screen, Paige’s hand slowly slips from where it’s resting on her lap, her fingers brushing against your thigh under the blanket. At first, the touch is light, almost casual, but you feel a spark shoot through you the moment her fingertips make contact with your skin. It sends your heart into overdrive, your breath catching in your throat as she presses her hand more firmly against you.

Neither of you speaks, but you can feel the weight of what’s happening between you.

Paige’s fingers begin to trace slow, deliberate patterns along your thigh, her touch warm and teasing. The movement is subtle, careful to avoid drawing attention from KK and Ice, who are still caught up in their game, oblivious to the tension building just inches away from them.

Your body tenses for a moment, a mix of anticipation and excitement making it hard to focus on anything but the sensation of Paige’s hand. She keeps her eyes fixed on the screen, her face perfectly composed, but there’s a small, knowing smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, like she’s fully aware of the effect she’s having on you.

Her hand moves higher, inch by inch, fingers trailing upward with agonizing slowness. You bite your lip, trying to keep your breathing steady, but the closer her hand gets to your warmth, the harder it becomes to maintain your composure. The heat between you grows, thick and undeniable, and you feel your body instinctively shifting closer to hers, wanting more of her touch.

Paige’s hand pauses just above your shorts, her thumb rubbing small circles against your skin, testing the waters. She doesn’t look at you, but the tension between you both is palpable, her fingers creeping higher as the blanket shields you from prying eyes. Your breath hitches, and you can’t help but glance down, watching the way her hand moves slowly, possessively.

“Paige,” you murmur softly, barely above a whisper, your voice shaky with the building tension.

She finally turns her head slightly, her eyes meeting yours for the briefest moment, dark and full of something that makes your stomach flip.

Her lips twitch into a small, teasing smile as her fingers slide just a bit higher, dangerously close to your underwear now. “Shh, can you be quiet for me?” she whispers back, her voice low and laced with amusement, like she’s enjoying this game more than the one on the screen.

Your pulse races as you nod, your skin tingling under her touch, and the blanket feels impossibly heavy now. Paige’s fingers linger at the edge of your thigh, just shy of where you want her to go, her hand warm and steady, teasing you.

The room around you feels like a distant blur, KK and Ice’s laughter barely registering in your ears as all your focus narrows down to the way Paige’s hand feels against your thigh. Every second drags on, the slow burn of anticipation making your heart pound in your chest. You shift slightly, your leg brushing against hers, and the movement draws a soft hum from her, her thumb pressing just a little harder into your skin.

You can’t help it—the tension between you both is too thick, too intoxicating. Paige’s hand moves higher again, her fingers creeping closer and closer, sending a rush of heat through you. You swallow hard, your breath coming quicker now, and she glances at you from the corner of her eye, her smirk deepening.

Her hand stills, fingers resting just shy of where you’re aching for her to touch, and she leans in ever so slightly, her lips close to your ear as she whispers, “You okay?”

The teasing lilt in her voice makes your pulse race even faster, and you nod, barely able to form a coherent thought with the way she’s making you feel. “Yeah,” you breathe out, your voice shaky.

Just as the word left your mouth, Paige slid her hands all the way up to your clothed pussy. Your breath hitched, head falling back on the couch. Paige let out a small laugh, shaking her head as she averts her gaze back to the game.

Then, she slowly moves your underwear out of the way and dips her finger in your wet cunt. You let out a gasp, causing KK to glance toward you and Paige.

“You okay, Y/N?” KK asks.

You quickly clear your throat, trying to regain some semblance of composure as KK’s eyes shift from the screen to the two of you. Paige’s hand immediately stills but she doesn’t move it away, her fingers warm and firm inside of you.

You feel your pulse pounding in your ears, the rush of heat in your cheeks impossible to hide. “Yeah, I’m good,” you manage to say, forcing a smile. “Just… uh, got a little startled by the game.”

KK narrows her eyes for a second, glancing between you and Paige but doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss. She shrugs and turns back to her screen. “You’re not even playing, Y/N. How are you getting scared?”

Ice laughs, chiming in without looking away from the screen. “Right? You’re just over there chilling while Paige’s getting absolutely wrecked.”

You let out a nervous laugh, the tension in your chest winding even tighter as Paige's finger begins moving deeper inside of you, biting your lip to stifle your sounds. You’re trying your hardest to act casual, but Paige is making it impossible to focus on anything else.

Paige leans a little closer to you, her voice low and teasing as she speaks just for you to hear. “See what you do to me?” she whispers, her breath hot against your ear.

Your stomach flips, the sensation of her words paired with the way her finger is still inside you, making it harder to keep your breathing steady. Your heart is hammering, and all you can think about is where her fingers are, how much you want them to keep moving.

As if she was reading your thoughts, she began moving her finger in and out of you slowly, making you let out a sharp gasp before covering it with a cough. You glare at Paige, trying to gauge how much of this is intentional and how much of it is just her toying with you. The playful glint in her eyes tells you everything. She knows exactly what she’s doing, and she’s enjoying every second of it. Paige’s lips quirk into a small, knowing smile, her gaze dipping to your lips for just a fraction of a second before she pulls back slightly, pretending to refocus on the game.

“You good, baby?”

“Shut up,” you mumble back as Paige raises her eyebrows, her finger stopping.

“Oh really?” Paige mumbles before you sigh, looking at her again with pleading eyes.

Ice, oblivious to the simmering tension between you and Paige, shouts as her character takes another hit. “Come on, Paige! You’re supposed to be carrying us right now!”

Paige chuckles, leaning back into the couch, but her finger doesn't leave you. If anything, her finger curl just a bit, and she casts you a quick glance from the corner of her eye. You shift under the blanket, trying not to draw any more attention to yourself, but the way she’s touching you makes your body buzz. She finally begins moving her finger in and out of you again, her movements sharp and increasing in speed.

“You okay over there?” Paige asks again, her voice low and intimate, sending another rush of heat through you. Her question is laced with double meaning, and she knows it.

You bite your lip, glancing toward KK and Ice, who are still fully engrossed in the game, before whispering back, “I’m not so sure.”

Paige’s smirk grows wider, her finger practically slamming into you at this point. “You don’t look okay.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, letting out another quiet sigh. You're glad that KK and Ice are so engrossed or else, you both would've gotten caught so quick. Paige added another finger into your wetness, practically fucking you at this point. You felt that familiar knot in your lower stomach, your thighs squeezing together─however, Paige's hand forces them open.

Just as the knot snaps, Ice’s loud shout suddenly breaks through the moment. “YES! Finally got that dub!”

You were breathing heavily as you came down from the high, your head falling back onto the couch in exhaustion. KK and Ice cheers, the room filled with excited energy, and Paige finally pulls her fingers away, the absence of her touch leaving your skin tingling. She sits back, grinning like nothing had just happened, completely composed while you’re left trying to catch your breath.

“About time,” Paige laughs, tossing her controller onto the table. She stretches, her arm casually draping across the back of the couch behind you as the others celebrate their win. Her fingers brush lightly against your shoulder, and you glance at her, your heart still racing, as she gives you a subtle wink.

───

The day of the game arrives, and the energy around campus feels electric. You've been anticipating this for days, ever since Paige handed you her jersey and encouraged you to go all out. You weren't sure if she was serious at first, but when you saw the glint of excitement in her eyes, you knew she meant it.

So, you spent the night before working on a poster, trying to make it perfect. The bold letters of her name stand out against the glittering background, and you added a few extra touches—hearts, basketball doodles, a playful nickname you call her when no one’s listening that she swears she hated (her blushing pink cheeks beg to differ).

Now, you’re standing in front of the mirror, her jersey slipping over your shoulders, fitting perfectly. It’s loose and comfortable, and the weight of it feels significant—like you’re carrying a part of her with you. You smooth it out, glancing at your reflection. The deep blue of the fabric contrasts against your skin, and the bold “BUECKERS” across the back makes you feel like you’re stepping into a role you were always meant to play. Your heart races, a mix of excitement and nerves bubbling in your chest.

When you finally make your way to the gym, the crowd is already forming, a sea of people moving toward the bleachers. You clutch the poster in your hands, trying to keep it from bending as you navigate through the packed hallways. With each step, your anticipation builds, thinking about how Paige will react when she sees you. You find a spot close to the front, just behind the benches, and settle in, your fingers gripping the edge of the poster as you wait for the game to begin.

The gym fills quickly, the hum of conversations mixing with the squeak of shoes and the sharp dribble of basketballs on hardwood. You scan the court, searching for her, and then—there she is. Paige steps onto the floor with her team for warmups, her long stride purposeful, her gaze focused. She’s all business right now, the way she always is before a game, completely locked in.

You catch her looking up into the stands, scanning the crowd, and then her eyes find yours. Even from a distance, you can see the instant change in her expression. Her lips twitch into a grin, her eyes lighting up like the sun breaking through clouds. You hold up the poster, and the smile that spreads across her face is worth every second you spent making it.

Paige stops in the middle of the court, her teammates laughing and calling her name, but she’s not paying attention to any of them. She’s looking at you. For a second, it’s like the entire gym falls away, and it’s just the two of you in that moment—her in her uniform, her jersey number flashing as she moves, and you in the stands, proudly wearing her name on your back. You lift the poster higher, grinning so wide your cheeks hurt, and she shakes her head, laughing as she mouths something to you.

You think she says, you're crazy, but the look on her face says otherwise. She’s completely smitten, and it shows in every inch of her expression.

Warmups end, and the game is about to start. The lights in the gym dim slightly, and the crowd roars as the players take their positions on the court. Your heart pounds in your chest, excitement thrumming through your veins. You’ve been to her games before, but this time feels different. This time, you’re not just a spectator. You’re part of it—you’re part of her.

As the game progresses, you cheer louder than you ever have, your voice raw from shouting her name, your arms aching from holding up the poster for so long. But none of that matters. You’re so caught up in the game, in every pass, every shot, every steal Paige makes. She’s everywhere, weaving through defenders like it’s second nature, sinking threes with that effortless precision she’s known for. The crowd chants her name, but you swear she’s only hearing yours.

At halftime, the teams gather at the benches, and Paige catches your eye again. She’s breathless, sweat dripping down her face, but she winks at you before grabbing her water bottle. That one little gesture sends a wave of warmth through you, and you know, without a doubt, that she’s been playing this hard, this fiercely, for you.

When the final buzzer sounds and her team wins, the gym erupts into cheers, but your focus is still on her. Paige is swarmed by her teammates, hugs and high-fives flying in every direction, but her eyes are searching for you. When she finally breaks free from the crowd, she jogs over to the stands, and without hesitation, she makes a beeline for you.

You can barely react before she reaches up, grabbing the front of the bleachers and pulling herself up effortlessly to where you are. She’s panting, still glowing from the win, but she’s grinning like she’s just won the lottery.

“You wore it,” she says, her voice breathless but full of joy.

You hold out your arms, letting her take in the sight of you in her jersey, the poster still clutched in one hand. “Of course I did.”

Paige shakes her head, leaning closer until her forehead is pressed against yours. She smells like sweat and adrenaline, and you can feel the heat radiating off of her, but none of that matters. It’s just the two of you again, in this tiny bubble where nothing else exists.

“I can’t believe you did all this,” she murmurs, her hand slipping to the back of your neck, fingers tracing lightly against your skin.

You shrug, trying to play it cool even though your heart is racing. “Well, I had to show up for my girl, didn’t I?”

Paige laughs softly, the sound low and warm. “You’re ridiculous.”

“But you love it.”

She pulls back just enough to look at you, her smile softening, and there’s something tender in the way she looks at you that makes your breath catch. “Yeah,” she whispers, brushing her lips against your cheek. “I really do.”

In that moment, with her jersey clinging to your back, her arms wrapped around you, and the crowd still buzzing with excitement around you, everything feels right. You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be—by her side, both of you wrapped in the kind of love that makes everything else fade into the background.

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[novaursa]

okk hear me out!

gwayne x daemon daughter // kink repro

We all remember the tournament in s1, just imagine viserys decide that his niece (who is younger than nyra maybe 16) should marry sir gwayne to make more strength between their houses.

time pass they fell in love in oldtown and they raided Daeron as their own. They all come back when Luke was name heir of drifmark (during the audience). Daemon is furious to see her with gwayne.

But their chamber is right next to daemon and nyra, and at night gwayne is way more than ready to make understand that she is his 😏🔥

In Defiance of the Dragon

- Summary: When your uncle, King Viserys, promised your hand to Gwayne, your father was least pleased about it.

- Paring: targ!reader/Gwayne Hightower

- Note: For more of my works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Word count: 4 000+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @deniixlovezelda @duck-duck-goose2 @aadu2173 @holdingforgeneralhugs

The air in the tournament grounds is drenched with the scent of crushed flowers and churned earth, the banners of noble houses fluttering like the wings of restless dragons. The sun casts a golden shine over the scene, making the polished armor of the knights gleam like fire. You stand at the edge of the royal pavilion, a place of honor, though it feels more like a cage at this moment. Your heart pounds in your chest as the king—your uncle, Viserys—raises his hand to command silence.

The crowd hushes, anticipation hanging in the air. You can feel the weight of a thousand eyes upon you, but none as heavy as the gaze of Ser Gwayne Hightower. His presence is unmistakable even among the throng of knights, his armor adorned with the sigil of his house, the beacon of the Hightower shining bright against the steel. Your breath catches as you meet his gaze, a fleeting moment that seems to stretch into eternity. There is something in his eyes—an unspoken promise, a plea for understanding.

Viserys’ voice booms across the grounds, his words carrying the weight of royal decree. "Today, before the tilts commence, let it be known that my beloved niece, the daughter of Prince Daemon Targaryen, shall be wed to Ser Gwayne Hightower. This union shall strengthen the bond between our noble houses, binding the blood of Old Valyria to the steadfast walls of Oldtown."

A murmur ripples through the crowd. Otto Hightower, standing beside the king, allows himself a thin, satisfied smile. The whisper of steel, the low hum of murmurs, and the occasional startled cry from the gathered lords and ladies mingle with the pounding in your ears. Beside you, Princess Rhaenyra and Lady Alicent Hightower exchange a glance, though their expressions reveal little. You know Rhaenyra's thoughts well enough; her small hand squeezes yours briefly, a silent assurance.

Your eyes dart to the stands where your father, Prince Daemon, lounges. His posture is deceptively relaxed, but you can see the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers drum against the arm of his seat. His eyes—those unmistakable violet eyes—burn with an intensity that sets your nerves on edge. When he rises from his seat, you feel a tremor of fear run through you, though you fight to keep your face composed.

Daemon’s voice, sharp and cutting, pierces the air. "I would face Ser Gwayne in the first tilt. Let us see if this union has the favor of the gods."

The crowd roars in approval, eager for the bloodshed and spectacle that is sure to follow. Gwayne’s gaze shifts, now locked onto Daemon’s. You see the flicker of concern in his eyes, quickly masked by the steel of resolve. He inclines his head, accepting the challenge with a courtly grace that belies the danger he now faces.

You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry. The fear gnaws at you, a beast with claws that rake against your insides. You force yourself to remain still, even as every instinct screams at you to intervene, to do something—anything—to protect Gwayne from your father’s wrath.

Alicent notices your distress, her voice a gentle whisper in your ear. "Do not fear, my lady. Ser Gwayne is a skilled knight. He will honor you in this contest."

Her words are meant to comfort, but they do little to soothe the storm raging within you. Your eyes dart between the two men who now occupy your every thought—the father who has always shielded you with his fierce love, and the knight who has stolen your heart with his quiet strength. What would your father say if he knew how often Gwayne had filled your thoughts, how often you had dreamed of a future together, away from the politics and dangers of the court?

As the knights prepare for the tilt, you can barely breathe. The cheers of the crowd fade into a dull roar in your ears, and all you can focus on is the two figures facing each other across the field. Daemon’s black armor, dark as night and adorned with the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen, stands in stark contrast to Gwayne’s silvered plate. The dragon against the tower—a battle that feels all too symbolic.

Rhaenyra leans in close, her voice urgent and low. "You know your father, sister. He won’t hold back. You must steel yourself."

"I know," you whisper, though your voice trembles with the effort of holding back the fear that threatens to overwhelm you. You cannot let anyone see how deeply this affects you—not Rhaenyra, not Alicent, and certainly not your father.

The trumpets blare, signaling the beginning of the tilt. The horses rear, their hooves pounding the earth as Daemon and Gwayne charge at each other. Time slows to a crawl, and you can only watch, helpless, as the gap between them closes.

The impact is thunderous, the sound of steel against steel ringing out across the field. The force of the blow unseats Gwayne, and he crashes to the ground in a heap of armor and dust. Your heart lurches in your chest, and you rise to your feet, barely aware of the gasps and cries around you.

"Gwayne!" you hear yourself cry out, the name escaping your lips before you can stop it.

The crowd is on its feet, roaring with excitement, but all you can see is Gwayne, motionless on the ground. The world blurs as tears well in your eyes, but you blink them away, refusing to show any weakness.

Daemon circles back, his expression inscrutable behind his helm, but you can feel his eyes on you. This was no accident; he wanted to make a point, to remind everyone that no one—Hightower or otherwise—would take what belonged to a dragon without consequence.

But then, Gwayne stirs. He rises slowly, his movements pained but determined. Relief floods through you, but it is quickly replaced by a renewed sense of dread. Daemon is not done—not yet.

Before you can react, Gwayne is back on his feet, his eyes locked onto Daemon's. The defiance in his stance is clear—he will not yield, not even to a prince of the blood. You feel a swell of pride for him, despite the fear gnawing at your insides.

Daemon, sensing the mood of the crowd shifting, raises his lance once more, ready for another pass. But this time, something in Gwayne’s demeanor gives you hope. His gaze flickers to you for the briefest of moments, and you see the silent vow in his eyes—a promise to fight for you, no matter the odds.

The horses charge again, and this time, Gwayne meets Daemon’s strike with a fierce determination. The impact is brutal, but Gwayne holds his ground, refusing to be unseated. The crowd roars its approval, the tension in the air is felt.

When the dust settles, both knights remain in their saddles, battered but unbroken. It is Daemon who finally raises his hand, signaling the end of the tilt. There is no victor, no vanquished—only two men who have tested each other’s mettle and found themselves equally matched.

The relief that washes over you is overwhelming, and you sink back into your seat, your hands trembling in your lap. You dare a glance at Gwayne, who inclines his head to you with a slight, weary smile. It is a small gesture, but it fills your heart with warmth.

As Daemon dismounts, he casts a long, lingering look in your direction. There is something unspoken in his gaze, a challenge, perhaps—or a warning. But for now, you do not care. You have seen Gwayne survive your father’s wrath, and that is enough for you.

For the first time since this day began, you allow yourself a small, secret smile. The road ahead may be fraught with danger and intrigue, but you will face it with the courage of a dragon—and with Gwayne by your side.

You stand at the window of the Hightower, looking out over the sprawling city of Oldtown, where the cobbled streets wind like serpents beneath the autumn sun. The air is cool, tinged with the salt of the Whispering Sound, carrying with it the scent of the sea that you’ve come to know so well. The bells from the Starry Sept toll the hour, their sound reverberating through the stone walls of your home.

Your home. It’s a thought that still brings a small smile to your lips, even after all these years. The Hightower is vast, imposing, and ancient, its walls steeped in the history of Oldtown and the Hightowers themselves. Yet within these walls, you have found something unexpected—peace, and more than that, love.

Gwayne is beside you, his hand resting on the small of your back, a comforting weight. His touch is gentle, yet there’s a strength in it that you’ve come to depend on. He’s watching you with that soft expression that always melts the last of your worries away, the lines of his face relaxed, his grey eyes bright with the warmth of the afternoon light.

“He’s arrived,” Gwayne says, his voice low and calm, a grounding presence. You turn your head slightly to meet his gaze, the unspoken question in your eyes.

“Prince Daeron,” he clarifies, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “Alicent’s letter arrived this morning, and they’ll be here within the hour.”

You nod, the familiar flutter of anticipation and duty stirring in your chest. Prince Daeron, the youngest son of Queen Alicent, sent to Oldtown to be raised and educated under the care of your husband’s family. It’s a great honor, of course, but more than that, it feels like a trust, a bond that ties your houses closer together.

Gwayne’s hand moves from your back to your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours. “He’s young, but from what we’ve heard, he’s bright and eager to learn. He’ll thrive here, I’m sure of it.”

You smile at his optimism, leaning into him slightly. “We’ll make sure of it,” you reply, your voice carrying the quiet determination that has grown within you over the years. Oldtown has become a sanctuary of sorts, a place where you and Gwayne have built a life together, despite the stormy beginnings of your union.

You can still remember the day of the tourney, the way your heart had pounded with fear as your father had chosen Gwayne as his opponent. The memory lingers like a shadow, but it’s one you’ve learned to live with, just as you’ve learned to live with the man who became your husband.

Gwayne, sensing the shift in your mood, squeezes your hand gently. “He’ll have the best tutors, the finest training. And he’ll have us.”

“Yes,” you agree, turning your gaze back to the city below. “He’ll have us.”

The grand hall of the Hightower is filled with the warmth of a roaring fire, the stone hearth dominating the room. The thick tapestries that line the walls soften the sound of footsteps on the stone floor, and the smell of spiced wine and roasted meat fills the air.

Daeron is smaller than you expected, a boy of perhaps seven years, with a mop of silver hair that falls into his eyes. Those eyes, so much like his mother’s, are wide with curiosity and just a hint of nervousness as he stands before you and Gwayne.

“Welcome to Oldtown, Prince Daeron,” Gwayne says, his voice kind but formal, as befits the occasion. He kneels slightly, bringing himself closer to the boy’s level, a gesture of respect and warmth that seems to put Daeron at ease.

The boy glances up at you, his lips parting in a small, shy smile. “Thank you, Ser Gwayne,” he replies, his voice small but clear. Then, turning to you, he adds, “My lady.”

You kneel beside Gwayne, reaching out to take Daeron’s hand in yours. His fingers are cold, and you can feel the slight tremor in them. “You’ll be safe here, Prince Daeron,” you assure him softly. “This is your home now.”

Daeron looks up at you, his young face a mix of emotions—fear, uncertainty, but also trust. It’s a look that tugs at your heart, and you find yourself wanting to protect this boy, to give him the guidance and care that only family can provide.

“We’ll take good care of you,” you promise, your voice gentle but firm. “Just as we would our own.”

The boy nods, and you can see the tension in his small shoulders begin to ease. He looks around the hall, taking in the grandeur of the Hightower, the vastness of the space that is now his home. There’s still fear in his eyes, but there’s also a glimmer of something else—hope.

Gwayne rises to his feet, offering his hand to you. “Come,” he says to Daeron, “let’s show you the rest of the Hightower. There’s much to see, and I believe the maester has prepared something special for your arrival.”

Daeron hesitates for just a moment before he takes Gwayne’s offered hand, his small fingers gripping tightly as though seeking reassurance. You stand beside them, a silent guardian of this new bond that is being forged.

As you walk through the halls, Gwayne points out various tapestries, statues, and paintings, telling stories of the history of the Hightowers and Oldtown. Daeron listens intently, his earlier nervousness slowly melting away under the gentle guidance of your husband.

When you reach the maester’s chambers, you’re greeted by the sight of a table laden with books, scrolls, and an array of strange instruments that immediately capture Daeron’s interest. The maester, a kindly old man with a beard as white as snow, greets Daeron with a deep bow.

“Prince Daeron,” the maester says warmly, “I’ve prepared a special lesson for you, one that I think you’ll find quite interesting.”

Daeron’s eyes light up with curiosity, and for the first time since his arrival, you see a genuine smile on his face. He looks up at you and Gwayne, his eyes shining with excitement. “Thank you,” he says, his voice more confident now.

Gwayne squeezes your hand, and you can’t help but return the smile. This, you realize, is what it means to be a family—not just by blood, but by the bonds you choose to create. In this moment, with the warmth of the fire and the promise of a new beginning, you feel something settle in your heart, a sense of fulfillment that you hadn’t known you were missing.

As Daeron sits down with the maester, already engrossed in the lesson that has been prepared for him, you and Gwayne share a look, a silent understanding passing between you.

And in this moment, as you both watch Daeron eagerly absorb the knowledge being offered to him, you know that you wouldn’t have your life being lived in any other way.

The halls of the Red Keep are as imposing as ever as you and Gwayne make your way through the corridors. It's been years since you last walked these halls, and yet they feel as familiar as ever—haunted by memories both bitter and sweet.

Gwayne’s hand rests on your elbow, guiding you through the maze of the castle with practiced ease. He’s dressed in the colors of his house, the green and silver of the Hightowers, his expression calm and composed as always. But you know him well enough to sense the tension beneath the surface, the way his gaze sharpens when he hears a distant sound, always vigilant, always protective.

You both turn a corner and nearly collide with a small entourage, led by none other than Rhaenyra herself. She’s flanked by her husband—your father, Daemon—and their children, their steps purposeful, their expressions tense. Rhaenyra’s silver hair gleams under the flickering torchlight, her violet eyes widening slightly in surprise as she sees you.

“Rhaenyra,” you greet her, your voice soft but steady, betraying none of the uncertainty you feel. So much has changed, yet seeing her here, a part of you yearns for the easy camaraderie you once shared as children. 

“Cousin,” Rhaenyra replies, her voice warm despite the strain visible on her face. She glances at Gwayne and then back at you, her gaze searching, perhaps for some sign of how the years have treated you. “It’s been too long.”

“Far too long,” you agree, your eyes flicking to Daemon, who stands slightly behind Rhaenyra, his gaze locked on Gwayne. There’s a tension in his stance, a stiffness that wasn’t there before, and you know immediately that your father is displeased.

Daemon’s eyes are dark, and though he remains silent, the disapproval is clear. His gaze travels from Gwayne to you, then back again, lingering on the clasped hands between you and your husband. A muscle ticks in his jaw, and for a moment, the air seems to thicken with unspoken words and unresolved history.

“You’re back in the capital for the petitions, I presume?” Rhaenyra asks, breaking the silence, her tone carefully neutral. The mention of the petitions brings you back to the grim reality of why you’re all here—the matter of Driftmark, and the question of succession that has thrown the court into turmoil.

“Yes,” Gwayne answers before you can, his voice firm. “We came as soon as we heard.” He glances at Daemon, his expression respectful but guarded. “It seems the crown’s decision is in favor of your son.”

Rhaenyra’s face softens at the mention of Lucerys, but before she can respond, a voice from behind her interrupts. It’s Jacaerys, his young face set in determination. “The matter should have never been in question. Luke is the rightful heir to Driftmark.”

You see the fire in his eyes, the same fire that once burned in Rhaenyra at that age. It’s both heartening and concerning, especially now, in these treacherous waters.

“That he is,” you say gently, offering a smile to Jacaerys. “And it’s clear to anyone with eyes that he’ll make a fine lord.”

Before Jacaerys can respond, Daemon steps forward, his presence commanding attention. His eyes are locked onto yours now, and there’s a storm brewing behind them, a mix of emotions you can’t fully decipher. When he finally speaks, his voice is low, carrying the weight of a warning.

“You’ve found happiness in Oldtown, I see.” The words are directed at you, but his gaze shifts to Gwayne as he says it, his tone laced with something darker. “Though I wonder if the cost was worth it.”

You feel Gwayne’s hand tighten around yours, a subtle gesture of support. “Happiness is not something to be questioned, Father,” you reply calmly, meeting Daemon’s gaze without flinching. “Nor is the loyalty I hold to both my families.”

Daemon’s lips twitch, almost as if he’s about to say something more, but Rhaenyra places a gentle hand on his arm, silently urging him to hold his tongue. There’s a brief moment where it seems he might ignore her, but then he lets out a slow breath, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly.

“We’re here to support our family,” Gwayne adds, his voice measured, addressing Daemon directly now. “In whatever way is needed.”

Daemon studies Gwayne for a long moment, the silence between them stretching thin. Finally, he gives a curt nod, though the hardness in his gaze doesn’t entirely soften. “As you should,” he says, the words clipped, before turning back to Rhaenyra.

“Come, we have business with the king,” he says to her, his voice brooking no argument.

Rhaenyra hesitates, her gaze lingering on you for a moment longer. “We’ll speak later,” she promises, offering a small, genuine smile before following after Daemon, their children trailing behind her.

As they walk away, the tension slowly dissipates, leaving you standing beside Gwayne in the dimly lit corridor. You exhale a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, leaning slightly into your husband’s side. Gwayne wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer, his warmth a comfort against the chill that lingers in the air.

“That went… better than I expected,” Gwayne murmurs, a touch of wry humor in his voice, though you can hear the relief beneath it.

“He’s never going to fully approve,” you say quietly, your eyes fixed on the spot where your father had stood. “But he’ll have to accept it.”

Gwayne turns to you, his expression softening as he looks down into your eyes. “I don’t need his approval,” he says, his voice firm. “I have you, and that’s all that matters.”

You smile at that, a genuine smile that reaches your eyes, banishing the last of the unease. “And I have you,” you reply, your voice filled with the love and certainty that have grown between you over the years.

The heavy oak door of your chambers shuts behind you, a soft thud echoing through the room. The warmth of the fire flickers across the stone walls that dance in tandem with your heightened pulse. Gwayne stands before you, his emerald eyes sharp and intense, still simmering with the tension of your earlier encounter in the halls. He says nothing as he approaches, but the way his hand reaches for your waist and pulls you flush against him speaks volumes.

You’ve grown accustomed to the feel of him—the strength in his embrace, the heat of his breath against your skin—but tonight there is something different, something more urgent. The lingering traces of your father’s displeasure hang between you, and you know, without words, that it fuels Gwayne’s every movement.

His lips descend upon yours, fierce and claiming, tasting of the wine shared at the evening’s feast. You respond in kind, your hands weaving through the thick strands of his hair, pulling him closer, as though you could erase the earlier tension through sheer proximity.

His hands roam across your body with practiced familiarity, fingers curling around the ties of your gown, loosening the laces with deliberate slowness. Gwayne leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, his voice low and rough. “I will make you scream for me tonight,” he promises, and the unspoken words hang heavy in the air—Let him hear.

Your heart flutters in response, not with fear, but with anticipation. The thought of your father just beyond the walls, likely brooding over his anger, stirs something within you. How often had Daemon whispered venom into your ear about the Hightowers, about how they were a poison slowly strangling your family? And yet here you are, wrapped in the arms of one who bears that very name, bound to him not only by vows but by something far deeper, something that even your father’s fury cannot tarnish.

Gwayne’s touch turns rougher, more insistent, and your breath catches in your throat as he lifts you with ease, laying you down onto the bed. The covers crumple beneath your weight, the mattress giving way as he settles over you, his eyes burning with a hunger that matches your own. “I want him to know,” he murmurs against your neck, his lips trailing fire down your throat, “that you belong to me.”

Your back arches involuntarily, and you bite down on your lip, the need to hold back your cries warring with the knowledge of who might hear. Gwayne’s hands grasp your hips, his grip possessive as he moves against you with a rhythm that leaves you breathless. Each movement, each deliberate thrust, is a challenge—a challenge to the walls that separate your chambers from those of your father and his wife.

The pressure builds inside you, the familiar heat coiling in your belly, and you grasp at Gwayne’s shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you fight against the wave of pleasure threatening to drown you. His mouth hovers over yours, demanding, coaxing you to give in, to let go.

And then you remember—Daemon’s chambers are just beyond. The thought of his reaction, of his barely concealed rage at the idea of you finding joy with a Hightower, sends a thrill through you. You gasp aloud as Gwayne drives into you harder, his breath ragged in your ear, “Louder,” he commands, his voice a mix of authority and need.

You close your eyes, letting the sensation wash over you, letting the sound of his name tear from your lips, louder than before, louder than you ever have. You imagine the look on your father’s face, his fists clenched in helpless fury, and the thought sends you spiraling into a pleasure so intense it nearly blinds you.

Gwayne’s name tumbles from your lips again and again, each cry more fervent than the last, as he brings you to the edge and beyond. You feel his satisfaction in the way he groans your name in return, his hold on you unyielding, as though he could anchor himself to you through sheer force of will.

When it’s over, when the last echoes of your cries have faded into the night, you lay beside him, your body spent and trembling, but your mind still racing. Gwayne’s hand rests possessively on your hip, his chest rising and falling with the remnants of exertion. “He heard you,” he says, his voice tinged with satisfaction.

You can only nod, the thought of what tomorrow might bring swirling in your mind. But for now, there is only this—only you and Gwayne, and the knowledge that whatever storm your father’s ire might bring, you would weather it together.

In the silence that follows, you curl closer to Gwayne, your fingers tracing idle patterns across his chest. “Tomorrow…” you begin, but your voice trails off.

“Tomorrow,” Gwayne echoes, his tone firm, reassuring, “we will face whatever comes. But tonight, you are mine, and that is all that matters.”

You smile softly at his words, closing your eyes as sleep finally begins to claim you.

[phone4pills]

SHARED A SOUL dad!Chris

if you have daddy issues, this one may hurt a little but no other warnings

Chris followed the trail of hushed giggles down the hallway into the living room where Nick and Matt were opening a package from Lego. You sat next to Nick, reading the back of the box that showed all of the pieces and told you more about the Lego characters. Your glance panned up to find your daughter toddling swiftly across the kitchen, Chris trailing behind her.

You turned to Matt, who was already grinning at the sight while Nick whipped out his phone to record, before your head spun back around to face the hilarious scene. Chris’ eyes caught your gaze, almost pleading for your assistance as your daughter stood at the far of the table with a vlog camera in her hands. A devious smirk settled on her lips, teasing Chris who waited at the other end of the table with heavy breaths.

He took off his hat for a second, wiping the sweat on his forehead before placing it back over his brown waves. “Daddy tired?” The little girl opposite him cooed, causing the laughter you tried so hard to force under the surface to boil angrily and bubble up your throat. Still you bit your lip, wanting to let it play out.

Chris’ lips however, pursed tightly as he exhaled a harsh breath from his nose. “C’mon baby girl, you know me and your uncles need that to film our video.” She nodded innocently, despite her grip only becoming more intense. “And if you give it back… you can get a sweet.” The second that last word left his mouth, he darted around the table, reaching out for the girl. But he missed as she quickly ran under the table, her minuscule figure making just the perfect size for her to fit underneath without hitting her head.

Chris huffed, gritting his teeth before he descended onto all four and crawled after her. By now, the whole room had erupted with laughter from you, Nick and Matt. All three of you struggled to catch your breath as you watch the scene unfold. You never imagine the father of your child crawling under a table behind her. You never imagined he’d struggle to keep up with her little legs that only took her a few metres a minute.

Her little chuckles echoed through the room as he snuck away from her Dad, running towards you, grabbing onto your shin with one hand, still holding the camera in the other. She laid her head on your knee, wheezing slightly from all the running.

Within a few seconds, Chris was up again, he snuck behind your daughter, tickling her waist to surprise her. She jerked about as giggled bubbled out of her throat before Chris picked her up by the armpits and carried her to the sofa. He placed her down on the end, next to Matt and kneeled down in front of her. “Okay, I got ya. Can I have the camera back?”

She pouted, her teensy fingers loosening up on the tripod little by little until she let go so it dropped on her lap. He took it gently, giving her hair a ruffle before kissing her face repeatedly so it scrunched up. And she couldn’t help but smile with each peck. Neither could you, he was so perfect.

Every day she got older, you only saw more and more of Chris in her, like they shared a soul. Maybe it was why you loved her so much. Because she was such a huge chunk of the man you were in love with. The man you were infatuated with. And you wondered if when he stared into her blue eyes, he saw himself for a second as though he were looking into a mirror.

By the time you had snapped out of your trance, the boys were already setting up at the kitchen table while your little girl sat on it, fiddling with Matt’s keychain. You pulled your phone out of your pocket, snapping a quick picture before sending it to Mary Lou. Then you turned off your phone and got up, ready to help the triplets film their video.

Thanks for reading, I hope your enjoyed. Also we reached 300 followers a day or so ago so thank you guys so much!

I hate to break the news that I’ll be changing my theme soon. Let me know if you guys think it’s a bad idea. Love you guys… not as much as I love dad!Chris. If you want more you can request or go comment on my MASTERLIST.

- ©phone4pills

[incognit0slut]

Much Ado About Nothing (Act III, Scene IV: The Quiet Morning)

The tension between you and Spencer reaches a breaking point the next morning.

Part warning: (18+) breast play, fingering, and some grinding action because he can’t stop himself Words: 1.9k A/n: this might be the quietest smut I’ve ever written, but we need to keep the tension going because it’s good for the drama🤩 i also wanna say that i wrote this in between my pile of work so please excuse me if you see any mistakes or some weird description that doesn’t make any sense. my head is about to explode

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

You woke up with an arm draped across your waist. Under normal circumstances, you would have jumped at the unexpected contact, but when the memory of last night crossed your half-conscious mind, it shouldn’t have surprised you.

Although you weren’t sure how you ended up like this. The details of the night before were a bit hazy, like fragments of a dream slipping through your fingers. You remembered the intensity, the undeniable pull that had drawn you together, but how it had led to this calm, intimate closeness was a mystery.

The gentle weight of his hand resting on your stomach was a constant reminder of the compromising position you were in. You wondered whether he was awake, or whether he was merely drifting in that blurry space between sleep and consciousness. You couldn’t help but wonder if he even realized how tightly he was holding you.

But then a subtle brush across your stomach made you tense unexpectedly. You felt his warm breath fanning across your skin, a shaky exhale that barely made a sound as it passed through his lips. There was an intake, a pointed swallow, the thick gulp of exchanged air suggesting he was, in fact, already awake.

You shifted slightly. This seemed like the right moment to address what happened last night. The quiet of the morning made it seem like an appropriate time to confront your emotions, to peel back the layers of what was quickly becoming something more real. More than just a lie

But neither of you spoke. Neither of you moved. The only sound in the room was the steady rhythm of your breathing. You lay there, waiting, your mind conjuring up various scenarios of what might happen next. You imagined him awkwardly stumbling over an apology, or worse, bolting out of the room in a rush of confusion and regret. Yet you certainly didn’t expect what came next.

He pressed a hesitant kiss at the back of your neck.

You froze, caught completely off guard. You thought of pulling away, but your body remained still, almost as if it refused to react until your brain processed the rush of emotions flooding through you. For a moment, you felt suspended in time, unable to move, to think, to breathe. But as you felt his tongue trace a warm, delicate line along the curve of your neck, you knew you couldn’t resist him any longer.

You tilted your head, giving him better access to the tender skin beneath your ear. His lips found the spot where your pulse throbbed most visibly, and he lingered there, sucking gently the whole time you squirmed in his arms.

He took your response as encouragement, letting his hand trail along your stomach before stopping at the hem of your shirt. He paused, his hand resting lightly against you as if asking for permission. A moment of hesitation fluttered through your mind, but it didn’t last too long. With a deep breath, you gave a small nod, signaling him to continue.

His palm was warm as he slipped beneath the fabric, tracing soft patterns on your skin. You tensed momentarily at the initial contact, then relaxed into his touch as he gently skimmed along, drawing invisible lines towards the soft skin where your breast met your ribcage. He paused yet again, this time as if he was waiting for any sign from you to stop. But you gave none. How could you stop when every part of your body was trembling with anticipation?

When he realized that you weren’t pulling away, his large palm covered your breast.

You let out an audible gasp.

In all the time you had known him, Spencer was the type of person who approached everything with caution and thoughtfulness, and maybe even a bit reserved. But he was a man full of curiosity, always eager to learn and explore new things, and this time, he was curious about your body.

His hand lingered there, taking in the softness of your skin before his palm molded around the curve of your breast, fingers stretching out to feel the delicate flesh beneath. The pressure was light at first, almost tentative, as if he were gauging your reaction. He then moved his thumb to trace the outline of your nipple, causing it to harden under his touch.

Your skin prickled with arousal as he continued to tease you, brushing over the sensitive peak over and over again until he was satisfied. There was a certain confidence in his movement now, as though he were familiarizing himself with your body. When you arched your back, he responded by pinching your nipple lightly between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it gently, drawing a quiet moan from you.

His own breath was hot and uneven against your neck. You pushed your hips back into him, feeling the firm pressure of his growing arousal against your body. The sensation made you crave more—no, you needed more. Before you could second guess yourself, you pulled his hand away from your breast, only to guide it further down.

His fingers followed your lead, sliding over your stomach and down towards the waistband of your shorts. You felt his breath grow shallow as he realized where you were leading him. He hesitated for a moment, but when you parted your legs for him, his hesitation dissolved. His hand slipped beneath the fabric of your shorts, and with daring boldness, he let his fingers slide under your panties as well.

The moment he made contact with your bare skin, a shiver ran through your body. He ran his fingertips along the length of your folds with genuine curiosity as if he was wondering how you managed to be this wet already. His fingers slid over your slickness, up, down, and then back up again before he found your throbbing clit. 

Your chest began to heave, your hips unconsciously bucking against his hand as he worked over you casually. He circled your clit with slow precision, the pads of his fingers finding just the right pressure to make you gasp. A strained moan escaped your lips, more like a cry of need than anything else, and Spencer seemed to sense your desperation. 

He withdrew his hand from you, and you almost voiced a protest, but it died in your throat as he pushed your shorts down your legs. You quickly helped him, slipping off your panties before you settled back onto your side. But he stopped you, pulling you slightly onto your back so you were half-lying on the bed and half atop him.

Your heart was pounding in your chest as he slowly parted your legs. He positioned one of them over his, leaving you fully exposed. You could feel his ragged breath against your ear as his hand moved down the length of your inner thigh. You squirmed when he finally reached your heat.

He traced the outer edges of your folds, teasing you with light, feathery touches before he slipped lower, finding your entrance. He teased you there, dipping just inside before retreating, a drawn-out moan tumbling past your parted lips. He repeated the motion, each time going a little deeper, until finally, he pushed two fingers inside.

The sensation was immediate and overwhelming. His fingers were long, stretching you in ways that made your toes curl. You watched the way his arm flexed, his muscles tensing as he pumped his fingers in and out of your dripping cunt. He hit a spot inside you that left you gasping and panting, and your desperate hand sought purchase, sliding up behind you. You reached into the soft hair at the back of his head, threading carelessly through the tousled strands as he leaned closer, planting open-mouthed kisses along your neck.

Your moans grew louder, more urgent, as he continued to thrust his fingers deeper. The pressure built inside your lower stomach, and you could feel the unmistakable rhythm of his hips rutting against your ass. He was hard, his cock straining through the fabric of his pants, brushing against your bare skin with every thrust. Another drive of his hips had you clenching around his fingers, and suddenly, the sweetest noise flew past your ears.

A groan. A very small one, hardly above a whisper, but it was rich and coarse.

The sound only heightened your pleasure, and now you were seconds away from shattering. Your grip on his hair tightened as you turned your head towards him. He responded immediately, his mouth capturing yours desperately, a meeting of tongues and teeth that left you both breathless. You clung onto him as his fingers quickened their pace, and all you could hear was the filthy sound your body was making.

Everything was suddenly too much, and before you knew it, the tension coiled within you snapped. A wave of intense pleasure crashed over you, leaving you trembling and crying out against his mouth. Your body convulsed with the force of your orgasm, your inner muscles clenching around his fingers as he continued to drive into you, his hips grinding desperately against your ass.

You were now panting, trying to focus through the haze of your orgasm as you felt the hard length of him straining against his pants. You shifted slightly, arching your back to give him better access, and the new angle allowed him to press even closer. His fingers slipped from you, and he grabbed your hip, using it as leverage to grind himself harder, rutting his hips against you with an urgent rhythm.

With a final, forceful thrust, he found his release as a moan that sounded more strained and desperate, almost like a whine, escaped his lips. His body tensed and then relaxed, the tension melting away as he clung to you, his breath heavy and warm against your mouth.

For a moment, you stayed like that, both of you trying to catch your breath. But then the silence that followed became too palpable, stretching on as neither of you seemed ready to break it. You should probably say something, anything to fill the void, but neither of you seemed able to find the right words.

The quiet grew, and you suddenly became acutely aware of everything around you—how your leg was still draped over his, the feeling of his arousal still pressing against you, and the way the cool air brushed your exposed skin. And somehow, amidst it all, you began to feel a creeping sense of unease.

You began to resent how you had allowed yourself to be swept up in the moment. You began to hate your lack of self-control. When your brain was no longer clouded by lust, your thoughts became clear, and now you felt foolish for letting things go this far, for not guarding your emotions as well as your body.

Spencer opened his mouth, but you didn’t want to hear whatever regrets he might voice. You sensed it in the way he slightly pulled away, the way he loosened his grip around you as if he too was trying to make sense of everything. The last thing you needed was to hear those doubts spoken out loud.

You couldn’t take it anymore. The air felt thick, almost suffocating. The more you stayed there, the more you felt like drowning. It was all becoming too much. So you slipped away from his arms, trying to create some much-needed space between you. You didn’t look back as you headed towards the bathroom.

You didn’t look back as he called out your name.

[foxfirexo]

hi its my first time writing a lil story like this, I hope it's not too long and you like it!! ^^

*THIS STORY IS ABOUT TRANSFEMS*

you're at a party and you don't know why you thought this was a good idea. it's not some insanely big party, just a group of friends but you only know a few of them and aaaaaaa it's still enough to be loud and overwhelming. you cling to the wall, not knowing how to join into the circle of conversation happening in the middle of the room without disrupting its flow.

this is stupid. why are you even here? you're terrible in this kind of situation. might as well just use the bathroom and then leave, not like anyone will notice-

wait, did that girl just look at you? no, not just that, did she just stop mid sentence and- and did you imagine it, or did her jaw clench and her lips curl into the subtlest of smiles when she saw you?

no no no no you say to yourself as your cheeks flush bright red. you abandon your drink on a side table and flee the scene, now needing to find the bathroom for multiple reasons...

you search the halls desperately trying to find the bathroom, wanting so badly to hide. damnit why do you have to be too shy to just ask somebody where the damn thing is? it's not helping that every time you close your eyes even just for a moment you see that devious little grin and that gorgeous face- wait

you blink a few times. this time your eyes aren't closed but the gorgeous face is staring mischievously at you anyway? you blink a few times, surely you've finally gone insane and this is a hallucination

"going somewhere, darling?" she says, her voice low and dripping with... desire?

you barely manager to stutter out a pitiful, "i- no i- I was j-just trying to find th-the bathroom," but you're finding it really hard to focus fck why is she standing so close that you can smell her fck why does she smell so good fck fck fck

"surely you weren't going to hide away all... this... from me?" too close too close you can feel her breath from here oh god what is she looking at why are her eyes wandering like that

you're slammed with instant regret that you decided you didn't need to wear a bra today, and you are painfully aware of the texture of your tshirt as your very excited nipples say hello to the gorgeous lady who is staring directly at them oh lord what is happening

before your mind can catch up she reaches up and brushes a finger in a thoughtless circle against the hard lil bump poking out through your tshirt. "oh my~ looks like i wasn't the only who felt something between us~" she grabs your wrist and starts dragging you into an empty bedroom but you're still trying to process what she just said. wait, what? not.. not the only...????

the click of a door closing pierces through your confusion and brings you back to the present, only to find yourself being pushed back and falling and- oh you were caught by a bed and- oh shit she's kneeling over you-

"im glad i caught you before you could run away, kitten," her lips find yours for the briefest of moments before leaning in right next to your ear and whispering, "i can't stand the thought of missing out on a tasty little snack such as yourself, that would be a tragedy" *she licks your ear* "hmmm, wouldn't it?"

you go to protest but her knee presses up between your thighs and your words are lost to a moan escaping your lips. your head is fuzzy but you can't help yourself and as if they have a mind of their own your hips start moving, desperately pushing up against her knee, you can't get enough aaahhh

"awww what a pretty little slut," she coos, her fingers reaching down and wrapping around your dick and eliciting a sharp gasp from you. "such a good girl, perhaps I should reward you by using you, mmmm?" she grins and her eyes sparkle at you, she's enjoying this too damn much but nnngh fck its so hotttt

the cold air of the room makes your skin prickle as she tugs off your clothes, leaving goosebumps all over your skin. as she pulls her own shirt off and undoes her bra you forget how horny you are for just a moment as you marvel at how breathtaking her body is, she looks like one of the goddesses just dropped out of the sky and now she's undressing in front of you...

... then your eyes trail down a little further as she tugs off her jeans and you inhale sharply at the sight of her gorgeous dick, already dripping and pulling her lacy blue panties taught. oh my god this is really happening oh my god

she wraps you up in her arms and pulls you into her lap, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear so she can sink her teeth uninterrupted into the supple flesh of your neck. her hardness is pressing up against you now and your heart is racing like a hurricane in your chest. all you can manage to squeak out is a desperate, "p-please.." before she sinks herself into your ass. your back arches and your tits press against hers and it feels amazing, so amazing, you can feel her swollen nipples pressed against your own and you cry out with utter desperation

"shhhh, quiet, pet! I don't want anyone interrupting my playtime. nobody gets to enjoy this but me."

you feel sharp nails digging into your back as her throbbing dick thrusts into you even deeper than before, but the shuddering moan trying to escape your throat is silenced by three fingers shoved into your mouth, pressing against your tongue. with that your mind goes utterly blank and your whole body clenches

its too much its too much its too much

you feel her teeth sink into your neck once again, using you to stifle her own moans as she fills your ass with hot cum. you cry out against her fingers and it feels like your whole body is bursting at the seams and in a moment of hazy mind numbing pleasure that seems to hang and stretch out for an eternity....... your body shudders and you orgasm harder than you've ever orgasmed before

your heaving chests still pressed together like the world depends on it, she smiles up at you and you feel a little silly, your mouth dripping with saliva and your thighs covered in the sweet evidence of what you'd otherwise discount as a fever dream.

"what a good girl, a very good girl," she mumbles with a huge shameless grin on her face as she kisses your last few shreds of consciousness away

damn what a crazy part amirite i want to go to a party like this goddamn