#been feeling uh. not at 100% for a while.

[dronningreid]

All my what-ifs.

At his darkest point, Reid decides to meet with reader under the pretext of closing that chapter in his life, but maybe his feelings for reader are more alive than he thought.

change the ending series masterlist

who? Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

category: angst

warnings/content: mentions of Maeve, discussions in a public place, mentions of sex (nothing explicit), special appearance by sassy Reid (because i'm his fan) mild use of vodka and mention of alcohol. English is not my first language.

word count: 3.8K

a/n: Obviously the name of this part is a reference to cardigan but I love What if...? so it's a fun coincidence. And I have a very good justification for what reader did so wait for the final part. I wrote this a while ago and I was going to wait longer to publish this but unfortunately I've been too busy to finish my drafts and it's been a rough couple of days which has also prevented me from doing what I love most. Anyway I hope you enjoy this <3

What if you were to appear in his life again?

Maybe if he hadn't asked that damn question...

Well, long before that, a lot of blood had already been shed and most of it was his.

What if he agreed to meet you?

Well, it was something Spencer was about to find out and honestly it wouldn't be the first time a question had gotten him into trouble.

<<Maybe the past should stay where it was>> He kept telling himself but he was never good with that.

"Hey Spence, drinks at O'Keefe, you come?" JJ asked as the rest of the team made their way to the elevator.

Reid pulled on his coat. "No, I uh, I have a date." The words were out before he could reason them out. "Well, it's not really a date, more of a meeting of old acquaintances..."

JJ understood immediately. "The lawyer?"

Reid's gaze was lost on the floor. "Yeah, her." He sighed.

"Are you going to see her? I don't know if that's a good idea." JJ didn't get a answer.

"I read the file I asked Garcia to make for you. Her mother was the principal at your high school and her father was a professor at MIT at the time when you studied there before going to Caltech." Yes JJ, there was a reason why that had happened. "That happened a decade ago Spence, I guess it ended badly and I know for a fact that no one can be special for that long time, not like that."

"She does." The truth broke through his stone wall. "A file doesn't say how much I loved her, all the times we shared, how I thought I knew her better than she knew herself, and it doesn't say I slept with her." The lump in his throat thickened. "Someone I had my first times with will be special until the day I die."

The thoughts materialized into reality before he could stop them. It was horrifying to be seen so vulnerable by someone...

But he had to admit that it felt good to relieve some of the burden on his bones.

JJ's eyebrows rose and her eyes widened. "You're right..." She whispered. "But if she's so special, why didn't you treat her like that at the police station?"

Reid picked up his briefcase. "I wouldn't have done it if she hadn't crushed my heart." He replied curtly before walking past her towards the exit.

∗⋅✧⋅∗

"What are you going to order?" You asked him as your eyes scanned the menu.

He should be repeating your action, but instead he was watching you.

From the moment you entered the restaurant he felt like he was so close to have a heart attack. Well, his skin was cold, he was dazed and he swore he felt a pressure in his chest but of course he knew he wasn't having a heart attack because statistically it's more common to have a heart attack after the 45 than at his age.

"Same as you." He replied without interest in a successful attempt to hide his true feelings.

You nodded before pointing the waiter to the saucer on the menu. "Two orders but one without creamed spinach."

A crack appeared in his stone wall.

His heart skipped a beat at that 'nonsense' and he hated himself for it.

He seemed to be 100% sure that you never loved him and now you came out with this, remembering perfectly what he hated...

The waiter took the order and then left with the menus.

He was so quiet so you decided to be the first to break the ice. "How's your mom?"

His mind played tricks on him as projected the time he introduced you to his mother. "She's fine." He said defensively.

Your brow furrowed. "Hey, you were the one who called." You had a very good point that even he couldn't deny.

He sighed and folded his hands together on the table. "And you were the one who suggested we meet."

You leaned over the table. "Don't start with that or you'll lose." The waiter came back and left the dishes on the table, so you rejoin in your seat.

"Lose? Is everything a game to you?" He asked sternly. Oh no, this was heating up a lot sooner than you anticipated.

"Of course not." You defended yourself. "But don't pretend that I started this when I know damn well that you investigated me."

His brow furrowed as a question swam through his mind. "It wasn't me to begin with."

"Oh sure." You took out your cell phone and placed it on the table.

He took your cell phone when he saw a photo of him with Penelope taken directly from her instagram.

"I get a notification every time someone searches for me on the internet, but I didn't get the IP address of course was the FBI." You explained.

"A little so paranoid, don't you think?" He said cynically.

"Let me continue." You reprimanded him. "And oh surprise after being investigated by someone anonymous, a certain Penelope Garcia started following me on Instagram."

Reid closed his eyes for a moment. "In my defense, I didn't ask her to do that." JJ do, but he don't.

"Of course, it was like a favor between friends?" You crossed your arms.

He looked at you directly. "What does that tell you that she's only my friend?" Reid knew exactly what he meant by that.

"Well she's not your wife." You looked at his hands thankfully finding the absence of a ring. "And I doubt she's your girlfriend. She's not your type." Your second statement was accompanied by a slight movement at the corner of your mouth, almost like a smile.

He leaned forward. "Oh yeah? So who's my type?" He whispered so damn provocative.

Spencer had that damn power where his eyes seemed to be able to read your soul. "Me." The words left your mouth almost immediately.

"Don't give yourself so much credit." That was a huge blow to your ego. "Maybe you were my type, when I was seventeen. But look at you and look at me. I'm thirty one and I'm not a kid anymore."

And when you had nothing left you used your last weapon. "Well, you act like one."

Reid sighed as if it wasn't worth his time to continue wasting his time on you. "You and your old tricks."

You looked away, trying to find a better counterattack. "So tell me, what's your type now?" Curiosity won out over revenge.

"Well I'm dating someone now." Those simple words were the equivalent of a gunshot or so you thought, you'd never been shot.

You swallowed in an attempt to undo the lump in your throat. "And what is she like?" Yeah, maybe you didn't want to hear the answer to that.

"Very clever would be an understatement." He replied proudly.

<<Of course, someone like him>> you thought.

At that moment a memory invaded your mind.

"So you're dating with Spencer Reid? Isn't he too smart for you?"

Words spoken 14 years ago still had the power to make you feel so small and it was worse when it were accompanied by that thunderous teenage laughter.

"And is she pretty?" You asked as if something as absurd as physical appearance would make you feel better.

His mistake was answering you truthfully. "I think so." He immediately scolded himself.

Your brow furrowed. “You think so? So you don’t even know what she looks like?” You let out a humorless laugh. “That’s so stupid, dating someone you’ve never even met.”

His eyes flared with anger, but he tried to maintain his composure. "Appearance is not something that has ever mattered to me and even though I have never seen her in person I know her better than I ever knew you."

"If appearance never mattered to you then what the hell did you see in me?" Your voice rose a little. "Because I was never as smart or perfect as you wanted me to be."

"I never, ever made you feel inferior to me." His voice rose as well. "And now that I think about it, I have no idea what the hell I ever saw in you."

Your bottom lip trembled slightly, almost imperceptible but he saw it and you saw that he saw it, so you looked away in an attempt to not look so fragile.

"I..." His voice faltered, of course he was still angry but the possibility of hurting you, no matter how small, made him feel like he didn't deserve the air he breathed. "I really don't know, it was only when I least expected it that the feelings were there..." He sighed. "I guess I just needed the happiness you gave me." His words were barely a whisper.

How could forget?, you had drew stars around his scars from the second he met you. But what did that matter when you made him bleed?

"And now someone else gives you that happiness?" You looked down at the floor, fearing the answer.

When he said yes it was like you had nothing left. Immediately your eyes filled with tears and you tried at all costs to avoid him noticing.

But he was a profiler so of course he noticed.

What if you would've confessed the truth on that swing?

Before answering his question, it's necessary to take a look at the past.

∗⋅✧⋅∗

<<I did something wrong?>> The question settled in his mind a week ago when you started acting weird around him, but since then the question wouldn't leave him alone.

You were alone in home, just lying on the couch watching TV.

But you were forced out of the comfort of the blanket when there was a knock on the door. “Who is it?” You wondered if you should pull out the welcome mat or a knife.

"Spencer Reid." He didn't need to say his full name, it's not like you'd meet another Spencer and even if you did, when you heard the name you'd only think of him, your boyfriend.

Hearing his voice from the other side of the door, you immediately put on your slippers to go over and open the door and when you did...

"You've never told me what your favorite flowers are, so I bought one of each. Well, at least from the ones in the flower shop." As he explained, your eyes took in each beautiful flower perfectly arranged in the large, beautiful bouquet. "Maybe I should have gone to a bigger flower shop..."

You immediately shook your head and moved closer to join your lips with his. He accepted immediately, placing his free hand on your waist.

You gave him small kisses before pulling away. "It's perfect, thank you." You whispered before taking the bouquet.

You went to get a flower vase from the kitchen and you didn't see Spencer, so you peeked out only to see him standing in the doorway, waiting.

"Are you a vampire who needs to be invited in?" After a week a joke had the honor of leaving your lips.

He smiled shyly before he closed the door behind him. "Where's your dad?"

"Exam season he stays late, you know." You explained as you filled the flower vase with water. "You must be pretty stressed and busy too." You glanced at him briefly before placing the flowers in the vase.

"I'm never busy for you." He cautiously approached you.

Your gaze was lost in the beautiful bouquet he bought for you and then you had a hard time breathing because of how sweet he was, such a good boyfriend, so perfect. You thought that you didn't deserve him.

"Well then what do you want to do? We can go outside to the swings in the garden or we can go up to my room while dad is not there." You suggested, lowering your voice a little as you said the second.

Reid's cheeks quickly flushed pink. "I... uhm." He scratched the back of his neck.

His skin grew warm just remembering your hand inside his sweatshirt. It had only been a couple of days since his first time with you and he was still breathless just remembering it.

"We can go to the swings and talk, that's what I came here." He paused. "But if you want, we can go to your room afterwards..." He whispered.

Both swung on the swings, the air brushing against your face as both rose higher.

"And what did you want to talk about?" You asked while stretching your legs to climb higher than him.

He stopped the swing from moving and looked at you as if silently requesting you to imitate his action.

Your swing stopped next to his. “You’ve been a little distant lately. Did I do something to upset you or hurt you in some way?” He scanned your expression for answers.

You shook your head immediately.

"So what is it?" He looked at you with pleading eyes before taking your hand and rubbing your knuckles with his thumb. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

You nodded, you needed to tell him something and despite what he said you couldn't tell the truth. So you opted for something else that had also made your days bad.

You took a deep breath. "My parents are getting divorced."

He looked at you with understanding but said nothing, waiting for you to continue.

"I was having a bad day and luckily you showed up." You smiled lightly at him. "They gave me the news a few days ago and I don't know how I didn't see it coming. My mom is in Las Vegas and my dad is here in Cambridge. I thought the long distance relationship was working for them but it turns out that they cannot tolerate being close to each other."

Your eyes filled with tears. "I know I'm not a little girl anymore who has to suffer because her parents are separating, but it hurts." He nodded before placing a sweet kiss on your knuckles. "Now that I think about it, I don't know of any relationship that has lasted that long. Can love last that long? Because if not, then how much time do we have left?"

Panic welled up in his gut. “We’re not your parents and we’re not my parents.” He tightened his grip on your hand slightly. “I’ll always be yours.” So that’s why it’s said to be careful what you say.

∗⋅✧⋅∗

"Have you ever wondered what would happened if you had told me the truth that night at your house?" The question came out before he could stop it.

You managed to keep not a single tear from falling, you had gotten good at that over the years. "You would've broken up with me." Yes, you had thought about that a thousand times.

"It's not true." The truth was humiliating. "And if it had been so, what was the point of you leaving me first?" He scolded you, pain and repressed anger seeping through every syllable.

What if you hadn't left like a father and running like water? The answer was not good for his dignity.

"Well if you think you have the answer tell me what would have happened if I had told you the truth that day?" You asked abruptly.

The truth was something I would never say out loud to you, but I had thought about that answer for 14 years.

He wanted to think that both would have worked things out together, that both would stay together until you finished college and then he would bought the most beautiful ring and gotten down on one knee.

You probably said yes and then you would be his wife now, Mrs. Reid. And maybe both would have a child, maybe two.

But that was only a possibility 14 years ago, now it was an impossibility. Because he lived in a cruel reality where he wasn't your husband or the father of your children.

"We could have fixed it." He replied with a half-truth, leaving out the rings, the white dress, and the cribs. "But you left me and ran away from me..." The words burned in his throat.

"I wasn't running away from you..." You whispered.

"Then what?" His tone was harsh.

"Of the consequences." You tried to hide the vulnerability in your words, but what your lips hide, your eyes show.

He had nothing left, why continue hiding the truth? "I would have forgiven you." He confessed quietly.

∗⋅✧⋅∗

Spencer hated when you and him separated at parties, because he was only there for you.

This time both separated because you had to go to the bathroom or so he thought.

"Hey Spencer, you need to control your damn girlfriend." Kelly's words made him frown.

"What are you talking about?"

"Haven't you heard? The whole school is whispering that she slept with Ryan and like two minutes ago she kissed him in the garden." Kelly replied, almost steaming from her ears.

But for Reid what Kelly said couldn't be true, you would never be capable of doing something like that...

But once doubt sets in there's only one way to stop it. So he came look for you.

When you came out of the bathroom a couple of girls gave you a glass of vodka perhaps, a glass that you accepted.

You took a sip before walking into the living room, back to Spencer. But he met you halfway and snatched the glass from your hand. "You said you weren't going to drink tonight." He spoke in an unusually serious tone.

"I'm sorry, but the girls just showed up." He continued to look at you with that horrible seriousness. "I only took a sip, if you want I can throw it." Your attempt to please him didn't work.

"Whatever, that doesn't matter now." He set the glass down somewhere. "We need to talk." He ordered, the boy who always asked you if you wanted to do something or not.

Your hands immediately turned cold. Maybe he had already decided that you weren't enough for him. "Yes, yes. Here or-?"

"Outside." He took your hand and led you outside before you could say anything.

"Kelly told me something... interesting." He kept his ice mask on or he probably would collapse there.

"Kelly always tells gossips, she loves gossip." You laughed at the quality of your 'friend' who was one minute away from ruining your life.

Spencer didn't laugh, he remained serious. "Kelly said you kissed Ryan today and that you slept with him." You immediately frowned upon hearing something as absurd as that.

Then some popular guys walked past you and Spencer, unfortunately you heard what they were whispering.

"What's someone like her doing with a nerd like him?"

"She's going to end up being a loser like him." Well at least he already has a PhD and is close to have another one.

Well, you'd heard worse things about him and yourself actually.

"Is that true?" He ask, obviously trying to find out the truth and recapture your attention that was lost with those boys.

"Can we talk about this somewhere else?" You insisted when you felt those looks judging you, mocking you, burning you...

"Why? Are you ashamed of me?" He crossed his arms and looked at you sternly.

"What?!" You immediately scolded yourself as you earned glances from a few guys.

"I'm sick of pretending I don't notice that you've been avoiding physical contact when we're with your friends lately, among other things that make it seem like you're embarrassed to dating with me." Between his words and the stares on your face you felt breathing getting harder with every second.

"Spencer, can we really talk somewhere else?" You asked as your eyes darted around, feeling the stares judging you.

"No, let's talk here and now." He replied firmly.

Everything was starting to spin and your breathing was getting harder and harder. Then, like a miracle with some price, your phone rang.

"It's my dad, I have to answer." You told to Spencer, still in a daze before moving away from him so you could answer.

He let out a frustrated sigh but let you go, not knowing you weren't coming back.

∗⋅✧⋅∗

"But it's too late now." He said quickly in the moment he seemed you were to say something.

Your eyes closed for a moment. Defeat was something you didn't want to get out of this meeting. "I'm really sorry Spencer, I've had a really bad fourteen years just tearing myself apart over a mistake I made when I was young and didn't know anything, I was only seventeen..."

He looked at you without compassion. "Very bad years?" He let out a humorless laugh. "You were engaged during those years while I had nothing." He emphasized his words. "I was the same age, so your only justification will be that nonsense?"

"Yes, I was engaged but that's over." You replied firmly. "However, I'm sorry and there's nothing I can do to make up for it because for you nothing will ever be enough!" You raised your voice again, not remembering that both had an audience, it was a surprise that they didn't kick you out of the restaurant. "Besides, that happened fourteen fucking years ago, get over it!"

"Get over it? Get over it is what I've been trying for more than a decade and just when I'm overtaking you, living in my present and finding a good girl you come back to my life like a damn storm to truncate everything I built." He also raised his voice, letting everything come out of his system. "Sometimes I wish I had never met you."

His words went to pulverize every one of your bones. "I'm really sorry..." Your voice was barely a whisper.

"If you're so sorry then just leave me alone for good." He demanded, his tone lowered this time but just as painful.

"If that's what you want..." You replied quietly, you would have liked to be the first to leave but it seemed like your body was still clinging to something that was never going to be.

Spencer paid the bill before leaving you with your words stuck in your throat.

Reid walked alone down the street, the cold brushing his skin and then he looked at the broken cobblestones on the ground...

Would there ever be anything in the world that didn't remind him of you?

What if there was a woman (other than you) that he could love?

Maeve was the answer.

Or so he wanted to believe, because he knew very well that saying he loved Maeve was too soon to be real.

He thought he did, he really did. But then the memories of you coming back to haunt him and he realized that saying he loved any woman wasn't you would be blasphemous.

Spencer could never, ever loved someone the way he loved you. The way he maybe still love you...

And that brings us to the last question.

What if he still love you or you still love him?

Maybe he should make a call...

[braisedhoney]

feeling emotional in this spaceship tonight

[threnodians]

when i feel like absolute trash garbage i either listen to hozier or kendrick lamar which. are two extremely different genres. but hey, both make me feel better and that’s what’s important

[sunhalf]

made some very minor rules updates! the main one :

i won’t fill out interest checkers or send in rules passwords; it just feels quite formal for what is, to me, a very casual hobby!  if we’re mutuals, I WANT TO WRITE WITH YOU — & as king of pulling AUs out of thin air, there’s almost never a time where i can’t or won’t write with a particular muse.  just assume i’m up for anything & i’ll communicate my boundaries if they come up!

i totally understand the appeal and, especially for folks who can be anxious about approaching others, the comfort of having it in writing that a mutual wants to write before reaching out, but — well, if i didn't want to write with you, i wouldn't be following!! please assume me following is me jumping up and down with glee at the prospect of writing with you. my rules specifically beg mutuals to send me unprompted asks / starters / etc., and that applies to all of you and all your muses! i don't need to know a ton about your muse / their fandom / their world etc to party hard, and some of my favourite dynamics have come about from somebody just chucking a starter at me and being like 'x and y are friends now and here's the starter to prove it.' i am always down, and trust me when i say that if there was a muse on your blog i simply Could Not Stand To See Or Write With the chances of me following you in the first place are ~ 1%

[fatherbrat]

ONE LAST TIME, R. SUNA

sum. two months into your relationship with your current boyfriend, your ex-fwb finally sends you a voicenote to let you know exactly how he feels about it.

feat. rintaro suna

cw. ex-fwb!suna, cheating, mutual masturbation (kinda lol), jealousy, dirty talk, anal mention, pillow humping, possessiveness, degradation

wc. 1.2k

When you posted your first official pictures of you and your new boyfriend, you had expected Suna to react…negatively. You basically braced for impact the moment you hit post, but all you got from him was an Instagram notification and two texts.

sunarin liked your post.

rin ;)

lmk if you want me to delete our pics.  and hmu when you two break up :p

You never bothered replying, initially not sure how to reply, and then forgetting about the texts entirely. The two of you barely have any contact for a few weeks after that, but he's obviously keeping up with your socials; liking every post and viewing every story. It doesn't bother you, but it's weird going cold turkey on your relationship like that. You had expected him to reach out for some sort of closure. You wanted him to. 

Halloween swings by in no time, and (much to you boyfriend’s dismay) you dress up as a sexy nurse. You don’t remember much of the night, but you do know that you posted a picture of you and your friends all dressed up on your story before getting blackout drunk. 

Your phone dies early on in the night. Your friends take good care of you up until it’s time to bring you back home, and you don’t wake up until the afternoon. You don’t check your phone until a couple hours after that—long after it's been turned on and charged to 100%. 

When you finally check it, two particular notifications catch your attention. 

sunarin liked your story. 

rin ;)

Voice Message

The voice message is 12 minutes long. 

You exit your texts immediately, opting to distract yourself by tending to your other notifications. It doesn’t help much. Your mind races, wondering what he was talking about for so long and if it was really so important that he reached out after almost four months of near-silence. 

You toss your phone onto your bed, shaking your head. You try to ignore it, cleaning the bathroom and folding the laundry and vacuuming the living room all in an effort to forget about the lengthy recording sitting in your phone. 

But it doesn’t take long for the curiosity gnawing at you to win. 

You practically run back to your bedroom, grabbing your phone and sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed. Your fingers move quickly across the screen, hitting play without hesitation. 

The first 8 seconds are nearly silent, and you start to wonder if it’s possible that he sent such a long message by mistake.

But then you hear a heavy sigh.

“I like your costume.” His tone is hushed, like he’s telling you a secret. “You look hot.”

There’s another moment of silence, like he’s giving you a chance to change your mind and stop listening. 

But then Suna moans and your eyes nearly bulge out of your head. 

“You never answered my text, y’know. When I asked if you wanted me to delete our pictures. So, uh, I kept ‘em.”

Oh. 

Oh fuck.

“I’m looking at one right now. It’s from last Halloween. When you-“ His breath hitches. “When you went as a Playboy Bunny.”

You remember. Suna dressed as Hugh Hefner and the two of you went to a party together. Then he took you back to his apartment and fucked you while you were still wearing the bunny ears and bowtie. 

You’re pretty positive you’re not wearing the bodysuit in the picture he’s looking at. 

“I don’t know how much of this night you actually remember, but I can describe the picture for you.”

You tense, anticipation sending goosebumps up your arms. 

“You’re kneeling on the ground, looking up at the camera, and you’ve still got those bunny ears on your head.”

This voice message is going in the last direction you thought it would.  Is he—?

“You’ve got cum all over your face, baby.” He laughs to himself before continuing. “And you’re sticking your tongue out like a fucking whore.”

Suna takes a ragged breath, a sound you're all too familiar with. It confirms your suspicions—he’s definitely jerking off. 

“That was a good night. We had a lot of good nights.” He sounds miffed all of a sudden. “I seriously doubt the boyfriend is fucking you as good as I did.”

You suppress a shiver. A pang of guilt heats your chest at the mention of your boyfriend. You should stop listening. Delete the message. Tell him to delete the pictures and then probably block him. 

Or you could let the message keep playing. 

Suna inhales sharply, followed by a shaky moan. You swear you can hear the sound of his fist stroking his dick. 

“I hope you’re not letting him put it in your ass like you let me. That’s our thing, okay?”

Under different circumstances you would have laughed. 

“Fuck,” he hisses. “And I hope you’re not letting him spit in your fucking mouth. Or–shit–doing that thing where you’d suck me off with your head hanging upside down off the bed.” He falters at the end of the sentence, groaning into the phone.

“I’m not gonna–” he interrupts himself, sighing deeply. “I’m not gonna pretend I’ve been happy for you. I miss you.”

You feel hot all over, a heady combination of annoyance and arousal and embarrassment. There’s a dull throbbing between your legs and in the back of your mind you wonder if this is what Suna wanted when he sent the message. 

“Just–just let me fuck you one more time. Okay princess? I’ll make it sooo good for you,” he whines. You can hear his hand picking up speed.

“It’s still early. Two months is nothing, it won’t even count as cheating.” You can hear the smirk in his voice. “God, just one last time. Please?”

Without thinking, you grab a pillow and position yourself over it in a straddle. You won’t let him fuck you, but that doesn’t mean he can’t make you come one last time.

“I promise I’ll do that thing you like with my tongue. And you can pick all the positions if you want to.” There’s a tremble in his voice. “Or just lay there. I’ll do all the work.”

You grind into the pillow beneath you, picturing the expression you know he’d be wearing if he were in front of you–batting those dark eyelashes with raised eyebrows, just barely able to control the smug curve of his lips.

Heat pools in your gut and a whimper falls from your lips. Suna keeps talking.

“I know you miss me. You have to. You’re probably touching yourself to this right now.” 

You gasp softly and rock your hips faster.

“Such a fucking slut.” You hear the telltale quiver in his voice that tells you he’s getting close. “My fucking slut.”

You moan, his words giving you flashbacks.

“Oh fuck. Fuck, I’m coming,” he rasps, before letting off a series of moans and whimpers that almost make you concede. You grind harder into the pillow beneath you, imagining Suna in his room, chest heaving, talking into the phone and making himself come to pictures of you. 

That does it. A tsunami of pleasure washes over you, forcing your body to tense before you go limp, collapsing onto your bed with a shudder.

You and Suna breathe in tandem, both of you catching your breath. 

You hear another laugh through the phone. “Damn, that was a lot.” There’s the sound of sheets rustling. “Kinda made a mess, princess.”

He’s silent for another few beats before clearing his throat. “Text me, okay?” he says quietly. “Please.”

The voice message ends.

part two

[sinning-23]

Bikinis On Top (OPLA Bikini Headcannons)

Seeing their bbygrl in a bikini opla headcannons

THis gets a lil RISQUE soooo 18+

Hey youguys i know its been a while lol I've been s swamped with work and Enjoy this in honor of hot girl summer approaching lmao I promise I'm getting back into eh groove of writing!

alos pls excuse spelling errors yall know me lmao

Luffy

-It’s hot and his shirts are open 9 times out of 10 so

-He was a bit stunned to see you with one of Nami's bikini tops adorning your chest with a nice pair of jean shorts.

-Boobs boobs boobs boobs boobs

-He's really trying to act normal but you can always tell when those big brown eyes start shifting from your face to your chest. And he always has that goofy grin on his face

-Strongly believe he's the type to impulsively bite them. lmao like literally grab two handfuls and CHOMP.

-He always was more of a boobs guy.

Zoro

-"Where's the rest of your shirt."

-He’s got his eyes skillfully flickering from your chest to your eyes then to you collar bone and again.

-“You don’t like me showing them off?” You question, slipping past him with a smile

-the funny thing is, you’re not talking about your boobs. You’re talking about the bites and hickeys he skillfully placed along them

-crazy how near the end of the day, the only thing the crew can seem to find as a trace of you is the discarded bikini top

Sanji

-He helped you tie it this morning when the sun had first been shining to brightly into your room, heating both of you up.

-personally, Sanji likes it when you wear the full piece, the straps of your bottoms just barely peaking out from the low-rise jeans you've got on.

-He also is one to pull your strings when you're also so the top just falls down to reveal the girls

-Is the type to lift you up out of the pool and set you up to sit on the steps like the goddess you are and just admire.

Usopp

-matching swimsuit set matching swimsuit set matching swimsuit set

-He always likes seeing you in a nice brown or sage green two-piece.

-won't say anything but wow when he sees you and smiles.

-Keep it polite but just know his hugs from behind will always end with him pulling at your bottom straps and letting them snap against your skin.

"USOPP!" You yelp, narrowing your brows at him while you massage the spot.

"Ok ok, i'm sorry mommas" He chuckles, pressing a kiss to the affected area, his large hands massaging the flesh of your thighs.

Nami

-Strictly a bikini gf and wifebeater+swim trunks gf duo lmao

-This can go either way actually. If she feels like a bikini kinda day it's gonna be a bright orange or a pure white with a sunhat and a nice flowy cover-up

-A she can't and won't make it easy for you to keep your hands off her,

-If YOU are in the bikini and she's in the swim trunks she REFUSES to keep her hands off you. She knows her girl looks good asf.

-Expect to have your ass smacked.

Shanks

-Is definitely keeping you on his lap while everyone else is splashing around. It was a pretty chill day and everyone decided hey why not go for a swim

"Can I please get in the water Shanks?" You sigh, pulling the strings of his swim trunks as he smiles and gives a quick "Nuh-uh"

-"Your ass looks too good. Just stay here a little longer hm?" he asks, squeezing your thighs, pressing kisses to your shoulder.

-He doesn't waste time taking you somewhere secluded to pull those bottoms to the side, somehow loving the way your ass looks in those bottoms every time he thrusts

Mihawk

-He personally likes it when you wear one of that cute pinup like 50's monokinis? And some wedges with a bandana. UGH he's gonna be right there with you avoiding the sun under the umbrella (that pale ass skin lmao)

-Will 100% lather you in sunscreen and just paper your shoulder with kisses.

-He's not taking you to eh pool he's taking you to the beach and you're just sitting together, enjoying one another company

-"I'm fucking you within an inch of your life after this." H admits in monotone, skin already starting to darken in a tan

-"Yes splendid." You reply still resting, enjoying the faint heat of the sun.

Buggy

-HAHAAAAAA this man will tear it off and then feel bad and get you another one...just to tear that off too

-is a sucker for the bikinis with anything on the boobs lmao he thinks they look like targets

-I like to think that ocean water is the only thing like that is an issue lmao so it is safe to say he's in the pool every summer, roughhousing with you and the rest of his crew

-I mean just a bunch of fucking kids lmao, macro polo, chicken fight, pretending to be a shark, you name it

-accidentally caused a nip slip tho and yelled for everyone to look away while shielding his girl.

[hoe4hotchner]

can i req aaron with an s/o who's ovulating or has a high sex drive and is easily turned on by him (regardless of if he's trying to or not)

The Hotchner effect | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader | WC: 2.0k | CW: MDNI, 18+, smut, Couch sex.

A/N: Well…… this was the smut I was excited about writing the night before I was hit by that car. So, here you guys go ;) To anyone interested: I've almost made a full recovery at this point. In a couple of days I'll probably be 100% fine again :D

You always thought you had decent control over yourself and your body—at least until you met Aaron Hotchner. Somehow, just being around him tested your limits, especially when he wasn’t even trying. Every. Single. Day. Whether it was his voice, as low and commanding as it was when you visited him in the middle of a case brief at the BAU, or the way his tie shifted as he rolled up his sleeves, everything he did made your heart race—and that was on a normal day.

But today? Today, your hormones were in overdrive. Ovulating didn’t just make you aware of him; it made everything he did feel like it was specifically designed to unravel you. All of your senses tuned onto his wavelengths.

His scent lingering in the sheets—hypnotizing.

The sound of his footsteps across the floor—ears perked.

Every little twitch and movement he made—you suddenly had 20/20 vision.

Like now, as he stood in the kitchen casually pouring himself a cup of coffee before retreating back to his office. The crisp white shirt he wore hugged his frame just right, the fabric stretched taut across his broad shoulders, his suit jacket long forgotten on the back of his chair after he had returned home.

He wasn’t even speaking, but the way he leaned against the counter, so composed and yet so authoritative, was enough to make your stomach flip and your thoughts veer wildly off course.

“Are you alright?” His voice cut through your haze, and you froze, realizing you’d been staring at him.

“Uh, yeah! Fine. Totally fine,” you said quickly, reaching for a cup as if that was why you’d been standing there in the first place.

His lips twitched in a faint smile, and you cursed internally because even that was hot. Damn him.

The problem was, Aaron knew. Maybe not the full extent of it, but he was far too observant not to notice the way your breath hitched when he looked at you or how your cheeks flushed whenever he got too close. And right now, you could see the flicker of amusement in his dark eyes as he stepped closer, seemingly to grab the sugar.

“Sure you’re fine?” he murmured, his voice dipping just enough to send a shiver down your spine.

You gripped the counter, your body betraying you as heat flushed through your skin. “Y-yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

His gaze lingered, assessing, and for a moment, you thought he might press further. But instead, he leaned back, sipping his coffee, completely unbothered by the chaos he was causing inside you.

The rest of the day wasn’t any better. Whether it was the way he adjusted his tie, the faint scruff on his jaw after a long phone call, or how his hand brushed yours when he came out of the office for a moment, you were practically vibrating with tension.

By the time he finished his workload, you were ready to combust.

Aaron was undoing his cufflinks when you finally snapped. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” you blurted, crossing your arms as you stood in the middle of the living room.

He glanced up, eyebrows raised, but the smirk tugging at his lips told you everything. “I might have an idea,” he said, his voice smooth as silk, and damn him again because he was still so calm, so composed, while you were unraveling.

“You’re driving me insane, Aaron,” you confessed, and this time, his smirk softened into something deeper, more knowing.

“Come here,” he said, his tone shifting, and the weight of it alone made your knees weak.

You didn’t hesitate, crossing the space between you in an instant. His hands found your waist, pulling you close as his lips brushed your temple. “You know,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin, “I’ve been trying to keep my distance all day because I could tell you were… distracted.”

You let out a soft, breathless laugh. “Distracted is an understatement.”

His fingers tightened slightly on your hips, his lips grazing your ear now. “Well, sweetheart, I’m all yours now.”

And that was all it took for you to finally close the gap, pulling him into a kiss that was every bit as heated as the tension that had been simmering between you all day.

As soon as your lips met, it was like all the pent-up desire and arousal from the day came pouring out in a wave of pure, unbridled passion. Your kiss was hungry, almost feral, your hands roaming over Aaron's body as if trying to memorize every edge and angle.

Aaron groaned into your mouth, his own hands slipping under your shirt to explore the soft skin of your back. He tugged impatiently at the fabric, breaking the kiss just long enough to pull it over your head and toss it aside before his fingers quickly found the clasp of your bra and unhooked it.

His gaze raked over your exposed breasts as he freed them.

"Fuck, baby," he growled, palming your one, the callous on his fingers rough against your skin. "You're so gorgeous. I can't get enough of you."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your nipples hardening almost painfully under his touch. You arched into his hand, a needy whimper escaping your lips. He took the opportunity to lower his head and capture one of your nipples between his teeth, biting down just hard enough to send a jolt of pleasurable pain straight to your core.

You cried out, tangling your fingers in his hair and holding him close. He lavished attention on your breasts, alternating between nipping and sucking until you were writhing against him, your body aching for more. Your hands scrabbled at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours.

Aaron seemed to understand, moving back just long enough to yank his shirt off before continuing his attack on you again. The feel of his bare chest against yours was electric, sending sparks of pleasure through your nerves. You ran your hands over his muscles, marveling at the way they flexed beneath your touch.

Your arousal was growing with each passing second, and your panties soaked. You could feel the heat building between your legs, your body crying out for release. Aaron seemed to sense it, his hands sliding down to the waistband of your pants.

He looked up at you, his eyes dark with lust. "Tell me what you need, baby," he murmured, his fingers toying with the button. "Tell me how you want me to make you feel."

His words were like a match thrown in a puddle of gasoline, igniting the fire in your veins. "I need you," you gasped, your hips bucking against his hand. "I need you inside me. Please, Aaron, fuck me."

A wicked grin spread across Aaron's face, his eyes glinting with promise. "With pleasure," he purred, popping the button of your pants and sliding them down your legs. You kicked them off eagerly, leaving you in nothing but a damp pair of panties.

Aaron drank in the sight of you, his gaze trailing over every inch of exposed skin. "God, you're perfect," he breathed, running a finger along the edge of your panties. "So perfect."

He hooked his fingers under the fabric, slowly pulling them down and baring you completely to his hungry gaze. You flushed under his scrutiny, but the heat of his stare only served to fuel your desire. He leaned you back, the weight os his body pressing against you as your back hit the cushion of the couch.

"I'm going to taste every inch of you," he promised as he pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, his breath ghosting over your sensitive skin. "I'm going to make you come so hard you forget your own name."

And with that, he buried his face between your legs, his tongue delving into your already dripping folds. You cried out at the first touch, your back arching off the couch. He lapped at you greedily, his tongue exploring every crevice and fold, finding all the spots that made you gasp and moan. He knew you too well.

Your hands flew to his hair, holding him in place as he worked you over with skill. Your thighs trembled on either side of his head, your hips rocking against his mouth in a desperate search for more. He obliged happily, sliding two fingers inside you and curling them just right, hitting the spot that made stars blind your vision.

"Oh god, Aaron," you keened, your head thrashing from side to side. "Don't stop, please don't stop. I'm so close."

He doubled his efforts, sucking hard on your clit as his fingers pumped in and out of you. The pleasure was almost too much to bear, building and building until it finally washed over you in a tidal wave of ecstasy.

You screamed his name as you came, your body convulsing beneath him. He worked you through it, prolonging your orgasm until you were boneless and spent, collapsing back against the mattress. But Aaron was far from done with you.

He crawled up your body, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that tasted of your own arousal. You could feel his stiffness pressing against you, hot and insistent. Breaking the kiss, he reached down to undo his pants, shoving them down just far enough to free his cock.

"I need to be inside you," he grunted, positioning himself at your entrance. "I need to feel you wrapped around me. Think you can take one more, for me?"

You nodded breathlessly, wrapping your legs around his waist. He surged forward, burying himself inside you with one smooth thrust. You both groaned at the sensation, your bodies fitting together like they were made for each other.

Aaron set a hard and fast pace, his hips snapping against yours with each powerful stroke. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with your moans and cries of pleasure. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, changing the angle and allowing him to go even deeper.

"You feel amazing," he panted, his eyes locked on yours. "So tight and wet and perfect. I never want this to end."

His words sent a fresh wave of arousal through you, your walls clenching around him in response, your eyes watering from pure bliss. He groaned at the sensation, his thrusts becoming erratic and uncoordinated as he chased his own release.

You could feel another orgasm building low in your belly, your body coiling tighter and tighter with each pass of his cock. "Harder," you gasped, digging your nails into his back. "Fuck me harder, Aaron."

He obliged with a guttural moan, hammering into you with all his strength. The bed creaked beneath you, rocking with the force of his thrusts. You could feel him pulsing inside you, growing thicker and harder with each passing second.

"Cum for me, baby," he groaned, his voice strained with effort. "Come all over my cock. I want to feel you squeezing me."

His words were all it took to send you hurtling over the edge once more. You came with a near-silent scream, your body shuddering and convulsing beneath him as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over you. Aaron followed a second later, burying himself deep inside you and flooding your womb with his seed.

He collapsed on top of you, both of you gasping for breath as you rode out the aftershocks of your orgasms. He pressed soft kisses to your face and neck, murmuring words of love and devotion against your skin.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," you whispered back, tangling your fingers in his hair. "More than anything."

He smiled against your skin, rolling onto his side and pulling you close. You nestled into his arms, your body still tingling with pleasure. As you drifted off to sleep, safe and sated in his embrace, you knew that this was where you belonged.

[witherby]

do you think that the batfam has different ways of explaining their bruises/injuries they get from crimefighting to an observant mouse? 👼👼👼

--🎆

Fantastic question! I think growing up in Wayne Manor would make it exceptionally difficult to hide the vigilantism from you. They could 100% do it, but it would take about a thousand times more effort concealing it from you than the general public, so I don't think they would.

You're very young when you start really piecing it together, though, so they're gonna have to tell you what happened in child-friendly ways.

The Littlest Wayne: Post-Battle Injuries

1. Bruce

"Wha' happen, daddy?"

This man is not a good liar, but he dodges the truth like it's an Olympic sport. Like any public figure worth their salt, he's gonna answer the question without answering the question.

"Well, when Daddy has to go be Batman, sometimes he gets hurt. The boo-boos will go away after a while, and everything is going to be fine. You'll have to hug gently for a few days."

What he doesn't say is that he took a toyota corolla pushing 70 to the ribs and can feel the broken bones shifting and rubbing together like wet chopsticks under his skin, it's fucking nauseating, and he needs to go pass out as soon as he puts you down for a nap.

2. Dick

"Uh-oh, Dinky hurty?"

If Bruce is admired for keeping his cool in the wake of grievous injury, then Dick wrote the fucking book on it. His picture shows up when you google "gaslight gatekeep girlboss." He could lose a limb and convince you it's always been like that with a straight face. You'll never catch his ass lacking.

"Dinky fell down," he says easily, scooping you into his arms, "but he's fine! See? All okay!" His face doesn't even twitch from all his wounds getting aggravated. There is shrapnel embedded in his back from being thrown through a window and tumbling down the roof. The broken-off blade of a knife is jammed up in his thigh. His right hand has lost all feeling in it from blocking a pipe getting swung at him. There are black spots in his vision. He's lost so much blood it's nothing short of divine intervention keeping him conscious.

You'd bet your ass if you need him to go sprint a 10k right now, though, he's lacing up his tennis shoes.

3. Tim

"Timmy, what wrong?"

He's gonna tell you the truth, and he's the only one that'll tell you the truth. He'll just omit the gorey bits because they're not beneficial to you.

"Oh, this? Bad guy got me good with his knife. It hurts a lot so don't touch it... I just said don't touch it...okay fine, go wash your hands first before you touch it."

He didn't like being kept out of the loop as a child, especially a child that had to raise himself, so he tells you about anything and everything you ask. He'll tell you what medical supplies he's grabbing and why. He'll tell you his estimated recovery time. He'll tell you what wounds the others have, if any. He'll let you touch the safe tools, like gauze and bandages and antibiotic ointment. He'll show you how to apply them, too, and then quickly take you to the sink to wash the blood from your hands.

4. Jason

"Jay-Jay ouchies?"

He's the most unintentionally awkward about it. I think being brought back to life in the Lazarus Pit really fucked up his ability to feel pain. The major injuries still sting — gunshots, stabs, broken bones — but bruises and black eyes and sprains fly under the radar very often.

"Uh, no," he shrugs, looking at the myriad of colorful bruising you just pointed out on his arm. "No ouchies." He's not exactly lying, it doesn't hurt, but it is very clearly an injury. This confuses and upsets you often.

5. Damian

"Dami got a booboo?"

He's lying every single time. He's your older brother. He's a dangerous killing machine. His skill and combat prowess are unmatched. He needs you to think he's incredible and amazing and cool.

"Those half-wit simpletons could never dream of landing a hit on me. Any blood on my clothes is simply not mine."

One of the goons actually clipped his side with a bullet and it really, really hurts. His hands are flexing and he's got sweat running down his neck from the pain. He would actually rather die than let you know that, though.

[heartsforjh]

CONGRATS ON 100 KIRBS <333 TO MANY MORE!

For your celly, can I request Luke and physical touch: “I thought you hated it when people touched you?” with reader on the receiving end (as in she's the one who isn't a fan of being touched)??

Thank you and good luck with your celly!!

THANK YOU! 🫶 now, 26 times. 26 times i fully listened to justin timberlake on repeat to produce this for you meg. also, while writing the part where reader couldn’t stay awake i actually fell asleep… 😭 anyways, i hope you enjoy. 🙏

main masterlist | 100 follower celly masterlist

You had met Luke at Umich not too long ago. Despite being quiet and unassuming around most people, he was rowdy and playful with your friend group, always bringing an easy energy to the room. He was funny, considerate, and far more polite than the average guy you’d met at your new university.

Today your friend group decided on hanging out in one of the larger dorms, so that there’s more room for everyone to actually fit. Luke, as usual, is roughhousing with his friends, their laughter echoing through the room. In the middle of their chaos, Luke accidentally bumps into you, nearly knocking you off balance.

“Oh, shit, my bad! I’m sorry Y/n,” he blurts, steadying you with wide, apologetic eyes.

“Lukey always finding excuses to touch his girlfriend.” Dylan teases, his grin wide and knowing.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Luke shoots back instantly, looking a little flustered, his tone shifts into something firmer. “Don’t be weird like that. It’s not funny to make her uncomfortable.”

Turning back to you, his expression softens into a sheepish smile. “I really am sorry, Y/n. I’ll be more careful.”

You nod, offering a polite smile. “It’s okay.” You can tell he feels bad, but before you can say anything else, his friends pulled him back into their conversation. You stay quiet, still too shy to fully insert yourself, being new to this circle of people.

Later that day, the group bundles up for the cold weather and heads to the UMich football game. As everyone files into the bleachers, Luke maneuvers himself to stand next to you. It was hard not to notice, and you could easily hear Dylan snickering.

Luke rolls his eyes but doesn’t budge, determined to put himself out there. After a moment, he glances at you, his face softening when he notices your rosy cheeks from the cold.

“So, uh… is this your first football game? I mean, UMich game?” He stumbles, trying to get his question out without looking stupid, “You’ve probably been to other football games before, but… yeah, first here?”

You can’t help but smile at how nervous he seems. “Yeah. This is my first.”

His face lights up at your response. “Cool! You’ll like it! These games are a lot of fun.”

You tuck your hands deeper into your jacket pockets, shivering slightly. “I hope so. It’s freezing out here.”

Luke chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, Michigan weather can be brutal. You’ll get used to it, though! I grew up here… well, partly in Canada too. Oh, but I was born in New Hampshire. Not that it matters…” He trails off, fully aware that he’s rambling but powering through anyway. “What I’m saying is, I’m used to the cold. And don’t worry, these games are always worth it. My brothers and I go all the time. Actually, we’ve got a lake house we visit in the summer together too—maybe you could come with sometime!” He slows down, hoping he’s not coming off too strong. “You know, if you’re around.”

You listen patiently, letting him overshare whatever his heart desires, “I’ll probably go home over the summer since it’s my first year here, but I bet I could find time to visit for a bit somewhere in there.”

“Really? Yeah… yeah, that’d be cool,” he says, his smile growing. He glances down and realizes exactly how close he’d moved towards you while talking.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he says, quickly shuffling back.

You don’t mind the closeness, but you weren’t gonna make it more awkward by telling him so. The two of you continued chatting, the conversation flowing naturally until the game ends and everyone decides to head back to their dorms.

A few days later, the group gathers at Luke’s place for a movie. You’re curled up in a beanbag, with Luke sitting next to you on the floor, his head resting against your seat. The movie drags on, and you find yourself nodding off.

However, your eyes quickly snap open when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

“Hey, do you want to help me make popcorn for everyone?” Luke asks softly. You nod, grateful for something to keep you awake. He stands and offers you his large hand, which you take without hesitation.

As he leads you into the kitchen, he glances back and notices you rubbing your eyes.

He laughs quietly. “Tired?”

You nod, stifling a yawn. He realizes he’s still holding your hand and quickly lets go, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh, sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you say, leaning against the counter as he grabs the popcorn supplies.

“You know, if you’re that tired, you can just crash in my room after this,” he offers casually, glancing at you.

Your eyes widen slightly. “Oh! No, you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” he insists, his tone genuine. “Those beanbags suck to sleep on. Trust me, I know—my brothers used to make me sleep on them when we were kids.”

You laugh softly. “Why?”

“Well I was the youngest, and sometimes I didn’t want to sleep in my own room at night…” He trails off, suddenly regretting his honesty.

“You were scared of the dark?” you tease, smile somehow looking even more amused than before.

“Monsters, actually,” he corrects, with mock indignation.

Your laughter bubbles out, the sound light and free. It’s the most you’ve laughed since coming to UMich, and Luke was beaming with pride at the sight of it.

When the popcorn is ready the two of you head back into the living room. The group eagerly grabs at the fresh bowl as you settle back into your beanbag. Unsurprisingly, not even two minutes pass before your eyes start drooping again.

A soft laugh from Luke is the last thing you register before you feel yourself being lifted. You instinctively tuck your head into the crook of his neck, his warmth lulling you further into sleep. He carries you upstairs with ease and gently lays you on his bed, carefully tucking the covers around you.

“Just get some sleep,” he murmurs quietly, mostly to himself.

As he turns to leave, you reach out and catch his hand. Your voice is soft, barely above a whisper. “Please stay? You can lay with me.”

“Uh… are you sure? I can sleep on the beanbag. It’s not a big deal.” he says, hesitantly,

You frown, words laced with tired honesty. “I thought you hated sleeping on the bean bags?”

“I thought you hated when people touch you?” he counters softly, eyes searching yours.

“I do,” you admit. “But it’s okay when it’s you.”

His lips curve into a small, shy smile as he climbs into bed beside you. You waste no time cuddling into him, your head resting on his chest. One of his hands caresses your hair tenderly, while the other settles lightly on your lower back.

The two of you know this isn’t something “just friends” would do, but neither of you seem to mind. You were content with that in the moment. As you drift off to sleep, wrapped in his comforting presence, you decide the feelings you’re starting to acknowledge can wait until tomorrow.

tags: @beenucks @mainly-miracle @lukey-pookie-hughes43 @sweetestdesire @emsdevs @puckmedude @joesnumerouno @alex-wotton

join the taglist here! :)

[saturnrings77]

note: im actually proud of this one. i really like it

you've been needy all day. whinging and whining when rafe's attention isn't 100% on you, disturbing his precious work time. you've been teasing him, leaving sloppy kisses on his lip or down the side of his neck and hands wondering too far south. his only response to your frisky touches were harsh "cut that shit out", "don't fucking embarrass me" and "fucking behave." your behaviour got even worse though, going from wandering hands to outright grabbing his cock and moaning in his ears in front of his clients.

"i been tryin’ real hard not to lose my fucking patience with you. okay?" he's mad but you look up at him coyly as if you never did anything. "get in the car. now." you don't dare disobey him, not when he's being so assertive and not after the way you were acting.

—

it's so dirty, the way he's fully clothed in a suit and you've been stripped bare, not a single article of clothing left on you. "this what y'been wantin', huh?" his teeth are gritted and his fingers are moving inside of you, fast. "so fucking needy f'me" the only thing leaving your lips are whimpers and moans. he slaps your cunt at the lack of an answer, watching the way you mewl and writhe.

He keeps his fingers pumping inside of you as he brings his mouth to your clit. "such a slut f'me, yeah?" and then his mouth is on you sucking and licking. he occasionally nips at the bud with his teeth, the action causing you to arch your back off the bed, stilling your hips with a firm grip.

"y'bout to cum, baby?" the condescending tone drips from his lips and you let a desperate "uh huh" slip from yours. he feels your walls pulsing around his fingers and just as your about to cum, he pulls away.

"rafe" you whine out, so high pitched he just chuckles and brings his digits covered in your arousal to his mouth. he hums in satisfaction while you let out a breathy moan.

he's upright on his knees, legs now between yours and spreads them wider. rafe unzips his slacks and lowers it and his boxers enough for his cock to slip out. he leans down his hand next to your head, nails scraping the nape of his neck as he grips the base of cock tapping the head on your clit. your hands wrap around his neck and you let out a soft moan next to his ear. rafe starts moving his hand up and down his shaft, the tip constantly hitting your clit.

"more" you let out a drawn out moan and rafe leans back, pulling his cock away from your cunt. he strokes himself faster and his pants and grunts get louder. he leans down again, swiping his tip through your slit, still pumping himself, looking down at where you're both touching.

you wrap your legs around his hips and start bucking your hips up to try and get him where you need him most and rafe's eyes flit to yours. his movements stop. "y'move, i stop." you know he's serious so you restrain your movements as best you can and he continues.

he's sliding against your folds fast and messy, whining when his tip gets snagged in your hole. "oh, fuck" he whines out loud. "feels s'fucking good." he lets out such a deep guttural, you think you could have come. your squirming so much, eager to come, but you don't want him to stop.

he decides to continue teasing the both of you, pushing the head of his cock in an inch and sliding back out again. he speeds up, doing the action a couples more times, your pussy getting wetter and squelching louder. "pussy's s'fuckin' wet." he alternates between pushing in and sliding against your folds.

his mouth his hanging open as he speeds up his movements, still panting and whimpering. he moves the tip of his cock back towards your clit and starts bucking his hips, his hand still stroking his shaft. you're both whimper together.

His moans begin getting louder and just as you're about to cum he pulls away and spills his seed over your pussy. He slows down his movements and you both watch his cum dribble down your folds to your crack and onto the sheets beneath you.

"I was about to come." you whisper, desperate for release. He reaches to the bedside table and grabs a tissue cleaning himself up, before tucking himself back in his pants and zipping up.

"s'what y'get f'bein' a brat." rafe chuckles as he watches your face fall, knowing you weren't allowed to get off without him. He walks out the door throwing the tissue out on the way to finish his business while it dawns on you that you weren't coming until he was done.

[wonderjanga]

Marvel Being an Old Man

For this AU Billy was born in 1928. He became Marvel in 1940. He would’ve been twelve years old. Now in this AU, the time bubble never formed, Billy and anyone else who had a Marvel form just aged extremely slowly. Like, every 100 years he ages a single year.

Like, an example of him being old would be that he’d have been alive during and for the end of prohibition and the Great Depression.

Aquaman: “You coming for drinks, Cap?”

Marvel: “Uh… no. I don’t drink.”

Aquaman: “Why? What’s not to love about alcohol?”

Marvel: “Well, you know, I didn’t really get into it as a kid cause it was banned at the time. Then I tried some a while ago and it was nasty. If it hadn’t been banned I’m sure I would love it.” *shrugs*

Aquaman: “Why would you love it as a kid?” *raises eyebrow*

Marvel: “The Great Depression.”

Aquaman: “What.”

Marvel: “The Great Depression. There was also prohibition too so even if I wanted it, I couldn’t have it.”

Aquaman: *rapid blinks* “Buddy, I don’t know why I keep forgetting you’re an immortal demigod.”

Marvel: (Billy is in fact not an immortal) “Yeah.” *shrugs* He’d also act like those old people that are rude without even realizing it. Like when he met Beast Boy for the first time, he asked him if he was a hippie.

Marvel: *staring at Beast Boy, thinking*

BB: “Uh… What is it?”

Marvel: “Are you a hippie?”

BB: “What’s that?”

Marvel: “A treehugger.”

BB: “Oh uh I guess.”

Marvel: *cocks head to side and judgmentally looks BB up and down* “Do you do marijuana? (Mari-juh-wana)

BB: “WHAT? NO??”

Marvel: “Oh. Never mind then.” *judgmental look disappears instantly and he’s sunny smiling*

Then, when he first saw Punk Kon he immediately thought of the punk counterculture he saw in the 60s and 70s.

Marvel: “I’m… I’m going to say this as nicely as possible.” *places hand on Kon’s shoulder* “You look like a gangbanger.”

Superman: *blanches at that*

Marvel: “Like, straight from the 70s. You look like a biker guy I knew. Granted, you’re way skinnier, but still.”

Kon: “Sooooo… You’re complimenting me?”

Marvel: “I guess. He gave me food. That makes him good in my opinion.”

Kon: “Oh. Sweet.”

Billy would’ve also lived through McCarthyism, and after WW2, every American was testy when it came to communism. So, let’s say two leaguers are talking about Paul McCarthy for whatever reason.

Marvel: “Man, fuck McCarthy!”

Two Leaguers: “Why?” *concerned because Marvel’s literally never cursed near the league*

Marvel: “He put me on the list! He put me on the list even though I don’t work for the government!”

Two Leaguers: “What list..?”

Marvel: “The commie list! Get with the program!” *proceeds to hate-rant about Paul McCarthy for about 20 minutes*

Two Leaguers: *didn’t know Marvel could even feel hatred*

[miserycanary]

MY HELL FOR YOUR LOVE ᡣ𐭩

♡⃛ ‘A Fixed Heart in Your Hand' alternative ending

pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & fem!reader

synopsis: alternative ending because I feel bad for hurting y'all

tags: hurt/COMFORT, fluff

"Sir? Sir!”

Ghost flinches as he realizes he’s been spacing out, the florist now looking at him with furrowed eyebrows. “Are you going to buy something or not?” she snaps, motioning at the display of bouquets. “Uh, yeah. Give me something with hyacinth and baby breaths,” he mutters, handing her a 100 bill. “Hyacinth? Never thought I’d see a day where a man knows a different flower aside from roses, tulips, and sunflowers,” the vendor chuckles, arranging the flowers neatly and covering them with a brown printed paper tied with a twine. “Ah,… if I know something, it’s about her.” The florist smiles, handing Ghost the bouquet and his change while saying, “Well, I can see that you love her dearly.” With a soft smirk, he replies, “That I do.”

You’ve always had a love for flowers. Going as far as to even beg him to make you a flower bed. Ghost didn’t like doing physical labor with him already getting beat from training at the base, yet when you flashed him that smile (and gave a toe-curling blowjob), how could he refuse? Since then, flowers as gifts have been rare between you two. Instances where he’d give you one are when you’re on a terrible period day or during milestones (the flowers coming from the patch he secretly planted months before).

It’s been two days since you’ve left the apartment, staying at your friend’s house, but Ghost insists on having you keep some of your stuff in the unit because, “well, you technically have ownership of the place since we shared the payment for this month.” It was a poor excuse, really, but it worked. Ghost knows you well enough to know that you haven’t broken up with him despite what you said. Leaving and staying somewhere else is something you do when you’re hurt and need space, and he knows that deep inside, you’re waiting for him. 

Don’t get him wrong. He doesn’t think you’re “easy to get” and he did really regret everything. The last 2 nights without you knocked some sense into him. The night felt colder, somber, and… lonely. Something he thought he would never complain about. I mean, this man has been through worse situations and he prefers solitude, but not if it’s solitude without you. You’re the one thing he can’t live without.

He has sent you multiple voicemails, messages, and even money as an apology. He’d always drop off by your friend’s place with some poorly attempted home-cooked meal of your favorite dishes. Sometimes he’d be able to steal a glance at you when he saw you coming up to the unit right before he arrived, sending flutters to his heart and butterflies in his stomach like a high school boy with a crush.

Now he stands by the door, hoping he’d leave the place with you in his arms, and him in your heart again. Three knocks (you always say less or more than that are for psychopaths) and a call of your name. Simon couldn’t help but chuckle when he heard your familiar cry, probably from rushing and stumbling. The wooden door cracked open, and the adrenaline that rushed through his nerves just from seeing you again could knock the man dead. He couldn’t even say anything except literally melt and give you the warmest smile. “Hi,” he softly greets, pulling the bouquet out of the paperbag and handing it to you with another gift. It was a charm... a tree bark with your initials engraved. You chuckle, pulling out the letter sticking out. 

One thing you learned about your Simon was that he’s not entirely good at conveying his feelings. I mean, that’s literally the reason for this fight. Yet he got out of his comfort zone, wrote you a fucking letter.

You look at him, tears in your eyes before jumping into his arms.

“I fucking missed you, pretty girl,” he mutters, holding you up by your ass and pressing a deep kiss on your lips. God, you taste like heaven; you taste like salvation. He tangles his fingers in your hair and pushes you closer, afraid you’ll slip from his fingers again. 

From that day on, Simon learned one thing. That he would rather go through the depths of hell (talk about his feelings) than go through a day without your love. 

| The letter: 

‘To my darling flower, I’m sorry for even hurting you. I’m sorry I was a shit-ass about how I processed my emotions and got you involved. You’ve always told me that you’re there for me but I didn’t want to burden you. I always want you to be happy but my actions just did the opposite. I’m sorry that I didn’t say anything that day. That I didn’t even ask you to stay. I’m sorry for being a coward. I’m sorry that I let you go. 

With this letter, I ask for your forgiveness and for you to have me back. I will be better because I cannot afford to lose you for you have my heart and soul. You are my whole life. You are the thing that makes surviving each day worth it.’

꒰ა ☆ ໒: Now you guys know why Ghost calls Y/N ‘flower’. This the comfort alternative ending because it was also requested. 📩

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open!

⟢ taglist: @softestqueeen

check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

[buttercupblu]

SoftDom!Suguru

Geto Finds Your Fanfic X Reader|Birthday One-Shot

the deets: uh, oh...girl, your boyfriend found your smut 😶 w.c: 12.3k (look...it is what it is) tags: fem!reader, fanfic indulgence (reverse uno, reader is an ADDICT—SHOCKER), mention of smut which is so ironic, delulu reader has all her dreams come true with the dreamiest fucking boyfriend in the history of boyfriends, soft-dom power dynamic, clitoral and vaginal masturbation, spanking/impact, edging/orgasm denial, fingering, forced orgasm, mention of breath play, gagging and throat fucking, mention of wax play, rope/restraint play, overstimulation, use of vibrator, P in V, creampie, reader’s brain is scrambled as she’s fucked into oblivion and ‘space’ (if you know you know), and most importantly, 💗💗💗CONSENT AND AFTERCARE IS SEXYYY💗💗💗 angel’s note: i almost named this 50 Shades of Geto chat 🧍🏾‍♀️…|a SoftDom!Suguru inspo pic i came across while writing 🥴 earworm 🐛: Freak in You|PartyNextDoor [Hoe|Jhene Aiko in video header]

Is this really the life I'm living?

Stifled moans threatening to spill over your puffy lips say yes.

That's less noticeable than the sharp, cool air kissing your aching nipples, though. Cute, little buttons that make your boyfriend's dick jump when he thinks about pinching them.

But neither compare to the coarse feel of the rope wrapped around your dainty wrists—competing for your attention and burning into your skin the more you grapple with it. 

Remnants will be there for days. Intricate lines of art that mark your body and make your slutty little mind smile.

But only fear lives in your eyes looking into Suguru's—his face smug but stern. 

A slight grin graces his lips as he raises his hand. “Eyes on me.” 

And you hold your breath, knowing that it’ll be 100 times worse if you look away, and wait for the—

Holy fucking coW, this is not a drill this is nOT A DRILL.

You squealed watching the mail truck drive off from the post you'd been stalking for hours—barely containing yourself from tearing the package to shreds the moment it's in your hands after rushing back inside.

Weeks had gone by, WEEKS, waiting for the beauty so gracefully wrapped in a shimmery tulle. Delicately peeling it away, you practically creamed yourself the second you pulled it from its satin bag.

It was finally in your hands, your fingers tracing over the glossy cover and raised title, not believing you were finally witnessing it in all its glory. And God, that new book smell was like crack.

Isn't It Sweet?

You nodded, biting your lip, agreeing with one of your favorite authors of all time as you marveled at their latest limited-book release.

One of only 1000 copies.

You remember how shaky your hands were when you ordered it, having set 4 or 5 alarms to make sure you didn't miss out on the drop. But you probably should've won an award for the world's fastest order the way you secured the bag with the quickness. And after daydreaming about it for days, you wanted nothing more than to hug it into your chest like a newborn babe.

Anyone who knows you would agree and say you're an avid reader (as if your overflowing bookshelf isn't enough evidence.) Still, you would say you were maybe just slightly above average—only spending about 5 to 6 hours a day gluing your eyes to books and words. Fully immersing yourself in endless lives, worlds, and universes was nothing as long as the life was worth living. And you're no stranger to all kinds of genres.

The classics. Sci-Fy. Horror. Smut. Occasional non-fic and self-help because it pays to be well-rounded. Romance is often hit or miss, but it has its moments.

What?

Oh ya. That's right.

That said smut.

And oh baby, does it have its claws in you.

Especially when it comes to fanfic.

Are you the world's biggest nerd? Maybe not (that's a lie; you've cosplayed and been to a few conventions—you're too far in the trenches, beloved, and it's okay), but the second someone mentions anime, you almost break your neck to listen in. Waiting to see if your favs are mentioned.

With most of them, you come for the action, laughs, and often heartbreak. Your latest fav was a great example of all of the above and taking the anime world by storm. The storyline and PTSD you get from watching it are part of the reason why, but truth be told, it's mostly because of the real gems you get if you stay. Gracing the screen from the first episode to the last.

Drop-dead gorgeous fictional daddies.

Being ate up around the world for being too good to be true. And there are more than enough of them to build a harem all wrapped up in a cute, gory little bow.

And you're the baddest of the down bad.

But you're not alone.

Oh dear love, very, very far from it.

The simps are everywhere. 

And you're the queen of Delulu Land, full of edits, cosplays, AUs, and art galore of anything you could ask for. And who could forget the stories?

Just the sheer amount of raw, raunchy, unsolicited smuttiness you get out of those is enough to make anyone sweat like a sinner in church. And you keep coming back for more.

It amazes you, the quality of content you get from those fandoms written by everyday people that even rival popular published works. But God, you can't even begin to imagine the sheer amount of batshit-crazy and unhinged energy it must take to think up and create such toe-curling filth.

Be there you were. Holding your second hardcopy fanfic that managed to make it off of the internet. About to shamelessly indulge your tastes once again. 

It didn't help that the cover was positively delish. It had a dark and mysterious air that you instantly recognized and made you feel a little funny. The infamous style belonged to one of your fav fanfic artists, and you couldn't believe the collab of your dreams was real.

Your bath was about to be one for the books, and you wanted to wait until you were simmering in the tub to open it, but you just had to get a sneak peek of the author's note at least.

You laughed, expecting nothing less as you read the gaggorific but true words. They're so unserious.

But this bath was about to be.

Rosy scents filled the bathroom as you lit a few candles and drew your bath, sprinkling salts and tiny petals into the bubbles.

Anyone on the outside looking in would think you were preparing for a date, and in a way, they would be right, but this solo ritual was routine anytime you got your hands on a good, smutty story.

Sighing, you sank into the cloud of bubbles, your muscles instantly relaxing in the hot, steamy water as you exhaled your cares away and let your head fall back against the fluffy body pillow.

The water felt amazing, and you could spend forever soaking in paradise, but slowly, your face began to warm. Not just because of the sweltering bath curling waves of steam around your body but also because of the heady thoughts that floated through your brain when you remembered why you were there. And so you pulled the caddy into the tub, your heart fluttering as you set up your book and dove in.

Fruity notes coated your tongue as you sipped a new wine between scenes, warming not just your tummy but also your core. Desire steadily built as you flipped through the pages, eyes soaking up the words as the scenes played in your head like you actually had the privilege of being a voyeur of such vulgar moments.

Your hand absent-mindedly drew small circles on your neck the more you imagined and read about your fav fictional daddy. Hearing his voice, trailing your finger down your chest as you envisioned his sharp, sultry eyes. That face he makes when he's being a big, tough, serious guy and somehow your hand ended up between your thighs, fingers lightly tapping your gradually pulsing clit.

And fuck were you jealous.

Your fav warned you about being in her bondage and restraint era, but the OC was going through it—manhandled and dealt with in a way that made your pussy throb until you couldn't take it anymore and slipped your fingers in to feed it.

Mewling, your fingers flexed inside you, feeling so warm inside your walls that ached so much you could feel a heartbeat when you dove in and out—moaning and working to sync with the story's vulgar pleasures.

But no matter how romantic the atmosphere was or how turned on and desperate for release you were, your dainty fingers, as cute as they were, were simply no match for the level of smut between those pages, and soon you found yourself drunk and pouting. Failing to properly reach those deliciously sweet spots inside you and leaving you unsatisfied and craving the only thing you knew could actually give you what you needed.

Your boyfriend.

And you knew if the day ever came when he did even a smidge of the things you'd seen in that book, you'd absolutely fall apart in his hands while blubbering ‘thank you’.

If only you weren't too chickenshit to just open your mouth and ask your angel of a boyfriend for it.

Suguru is such an, oh God—(insert animalistic noises)—you could eat that man for DAYS.

But truth be told, you weren't the usually overly confident bad bitch that made boys fall to their knees with Suguru. In fact, when you first saw him around, you were actually very intimidated.

Right off the bat, everything about him was different, way different.

His casual but cunty style screamed curated but careless when he walked around looking like he was fresh out of a Japanese street-style magazine. Often dressed in dark, baggy clothing that added to his mellow, mysterious aura—only to quietly flex on niggas by adding minimalistic but expensive layers of jewelry and accessories.

But what really made you weak the first time you saw them are the crown jewels that tie his look together—his piercings. The one in his eyebrow made it look sharper when he raised it, and whenever he tucked a strand of hair, you'd notice his cuff earrings fitting snugly on his cartilage that perfectly complimented his gauges. And—fuck—you could go on and on for days about how you constantly had to resist the urge to smash your lips onto his just to feel his snakebites.

You were doomed.

There he was, this tasty but nonchalant, cool guy. Reserved. Exclusive. And picky. 

Never ever ever in a million years did you think you could bag a walking piece of art like that. 

Don’t get it twisted; you are THEE shit and always the prize, but this time, it was less about looks and more about personality. And compared to Suguru? You were like a baby Powderpuff, sweet and bubbly, while he was a panther: sly, magnetic, and quick to ghost anyone who tried to get too close. 

Hot and impossibly hard to get. 

No wonder everyone wanted him.

Even without the competition, you were sure he probably had a thing for someone more his vibe, like big titty goth bitches, and you wouldn't blame him. Because sugar and spice just do not mix.

But fate had a funny way of humoring you, and one day you were unexpectedly thrown into each other's lives in a way that couldn't have been anything but the stars aligning.

The Panther and the Powderpuff.

Who knew you two would be a recipe for...perfection? And to your surprise, it was Suguru who latched on first, finding you simply addicting.

You were this vibrant, unapologetic good girl, sugary sweet and full of life, while he was this introverted yet magnetic loner, secretly craving someone to satisfy his sweet tooth.

Everyone else had been mere distractions, superficial, and a waste of his time.

But when the universe suddenly dropped you right into his lap, everything he thought he knew about loving someone changed.

The chemistry was undeniable and Suguru was selfish, wasting no time taking you off the market after only a few dates because the thought of you with anyone else made his stomach twist. But honestly, he had you hooked from, "Hello, my name is...", and ever since, you still find yourself unbelieving your luck—and the way he treats you.

From the unconditional princess treatment to every small or large sentiment you could wish for, Suguru does it all without hesitation. Knowing you deserve nothing less and leaving no room for anyone else to even try to compete. Often making you blush like a little schoolgirl who doesn't know what to do with herself because of his cool candor but loud love. Leaving you gagged and absolutely feral for him.

But it was simple for Suguru. He never questioned his instinct or need to have you. He just knew what he wanted, what he needed. 

You. 

You stir something deep in him, and he’s simply a slave to that insatiable urge to care for you in ways only he can.

Your sweet, raven-hair simp—always waiting and ready for you to pepper his blissful face with kisses every time you love on each other. Leaving you with no doubts that he’s yours and you’re his.

And he constantly reminds you that he can and will match your freak as his hands never seem to be able to stay off of you just as much as you think about sinking your claws into him.  

You practically jumped at any opportunity to have your way and slut out that man in all his panty-dropping glory—when he lets you—but you firmly drew the line at vanilla.

In a perfect world, you could live freely as the truly unhinged and slutty succubus you were and let this man dictate your every waking moment, body, and soul however he pleased—just like many of the books you obsess over. 

But you couldn’t risk scaring off your dream man with your Freak-a-leek fantasies. 

You had to be quiet with it. 

There was no way Suguru would be into that stuff.

Besides, it’s not like you were missing much. 

Suguru and Satisfaction go hand-in-hand, and your oh-so-thoughtful boyfriend is damn-near dedicated to making sure you spend your nights repeatedly moaning his name. Whether it’s by slurping you up with his tongue just for a taste or slow-stroking your insides until you soak the sheets before fighting over who's sleeping in it. Naturally reading your body with ease and filling you to the brim with butterflies until you claw his back then milk him dry. 

But every now and then, you couldn’t help but wonder…what would happen if one day he just happened to tap into that subtle but smug big dick energy and took the reins?

Alas, you’d rather sneak away every blue moon and submerge in the depths of smut than confess. Settled and content with getting your fix when you could, but that night, you found yourself growing more frustrated the longer you tried.

No matter how hard you concretrated, no matter how detailed and lewd the images and sounds were in your head, you were hell-bent on shooting stars into your eyes with every trick you knew in the book yet failing to bring yourself rapture with such feeble fingers. 

Eventually, with a final but not yet defeated groan, you decided to stop toying with yourself and return to Earth. Slightly disappointed but relishing in the fact that you always had access to the ultimate trump card, no matter how your smutty escapades went. You might not get to play 9 and ½ Weeks with your boyfriend, but he always guaranteed to fuck the ever-loving shit out of you and give you everything you need anytime you get all dolled up for him.

Your hand glided down your silky thighs, feeling smooth like butter as you caressed them, and you nodded. Mhmm, you were gonna get tore up tonight.

After finishing your bath, you dressed your body in your favorite lotion and serum combo before slipping into the silky lingerie Suguru randomly bought you a few weeks ago. He had been doing that more lately, coming home with all kinds of catered gifts and this one was by far one of your favorites and fit so perfectly. Now, all that was left to do was wait for him to get home and peel it off.

He’d been out most of the afternoon hanging with the guys while you did a few chores and stalked your mailbox. Suguru said it was supposed to be chill, but with the sun setting soon and knowing that Satoru was invited and without a doubt responsible for why Suguru was still not home, nine times out of ten, they ended up playing basketball. 

Your boyfriend is already pretty active, but anytime Satoru comes around, he gets turned up times ten and things get real competitive, real fast. Almost always against Sugu’s will, but he’d rather entertain Toru to make him shut up and eat his words than back down. And like a good girlfriend who knows all of her boyfriend’s dumb little weaknesses, you were exactly right.  

You missed the sound of his umbrella as he came through the front door, smoothing back his hair from the rain you didn’t hear while in the bath.

“I’m home, Love,” he calls out, and his gentle yet sultry voice paired with your pet name always makes you blush.

His natural scent was the first thing to hit your nose when he entered the bedroom, mingling with the wine steadily warming your body. Expecting you to nearly tackle him with a hug as you usually do after hours of being apart, he braced himself, but when he found you poised on the bed, relaxed and waiting for him, his mouth dropped, his heart once again racing even though he was sure he burned through his adrenaline playing basketball. 

You looked downright delectable.

“Hi, baby,” you laughed, smiling at his expression as you crawled towards him. The silky fabric draped in soft folds over your body, shifting and riding up just enough to reveal tantalizing glimpses of skin as you moved—clinging to your curves like a second skin. Everywhere he wanted his hands to be. 

Imagining you in it when he picked it out was one thing, but seeing you in it, right in front of him, well fuck—you looked so perfect now, he’d probably die seeing it around your ankles later.  

He drew a breath, unable to believe his luck or imagine a better view than the one of looking up at him with doe eyes while on your hands and knees. Just for him.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, the soft blend of rose and vanilla flooding his senses as you pulled your body close before realizing he was soaking wet.

“Ahh! Babe!” You jumped back. “You’re wet.” But his warm hands had already settled on your waist, firmly holding you in place. He smirked and stole a quick peck, and the familiar tease of his lips soon made you forget all about how cold and drenched he was as you melted into his touch, his lips making you more and more needy every time they met yours. 

He smiled against your lips, noticing you were more excitable than usual as you deepened the kiss, your heartbeat thudding against his chest as you pressed closer.

“You’re going to *peck* ruin your lingerie, Pretty,” he teased. But you clearly didn’t care, and he softly chuckled, having to reel it in for the both of you as he gently pulled away. “Let me hop in the shower first, ya?”

But when he looked into your puppy-dog eyes as you knelt before him, the thought of walking away felt nearly impossible. You wore that little frown and plea in your eyes that silently begged him not to leave, and any other time, he’d give right in. Instead, he leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, sending warm tingles to your tummy and making it just a bit easier for both of you. With your patience recharged, you perked up and switched gears, asking about his day as he settled in.

He casually shrugged, saying everything was cool. Yu called him, Toru, and Kento over to try out the latest 2K game, and though Toru was always down to hang, he spent the entire time groaning because, surprise, surprise, he was awfully bad at it—no matter which version he played. After losing one too many 1v1s to Suguru and the others, he let his butt-hurt ego get the best of him and suggested they ditch the “baby game” and play some real basketball.

Suguru knew it was just a cop-out for Toru sucking, but he also knew Toru wouldn’t stop whining until he got a chance to redeem himself. At least the day was nice enough for Suguru to humor him—until their Opp, Toji, showed up trying to start shit and ruin a good time as per usual. Lucky for him, the rain came in out of nowhere and cleared everyone out just before the gang could pop off, and blah blah blah, proper name, place name, backstory stuff. 

Suguru sounds so lovely when he talks, but you were only half-listening, completely mesmerized as he pulled his sopping, wet shirt over his head and revealed his toned body and tats.

No one would ever guess that his chest and sides of his torso were inked unless he showed you. The intricate dragon tattoo weaved across his shoulders and down the full sleeve of his arms, but that was the only evidence that he’d taken a needle to his skin. It’s like a special little surprise reserved only for those he wants to see, and you never get tired of drooling over it—or him, watching him shyly smile as he noticed your gaze and gave you a playful wink before disappearing into the bathroom.

You sank into the bed with a pout but managed to distract yourself as he showered. Suguru loves a long, hot one, and he definitely took his sweet time that night. You figured he deserved it after such a hectic evening and told yourself that the wait to quell your fire was just a little bit longer. 

But your impatience would cost you, as you failed to notice that in your haste to get ready for Pound Town, you’d forgotten to do something very important. 

Suguru came out whistling, a cloud of steam pouring into the bedroom as he stepped through, a towel wrapped low on his hips. His long, slightly towel-dried hair clung to his face in cute, messy stands, and he shot you a soft, knowing smile as he crossed the room. You were so adorable, waiting on him like a pup, shamelessly following his every movement with your gaze.

He laughed, “You look comfy.”

“I’ve been waiting for you,” you pouted. “You were in there forever.”

Suguru grinned, reaching for the towel draped around his neck. “Yeah? I guess I got a bit distracted.” He moved toward the dresser, lazily pulling it open. “Did you have a good day?” 

Suppressing the urge to be frank, you nodded. If only he knew. “It was okay. Nothing special.”

“Oh, real?” He raised an eyebrow, glancing over his shoulder. “You’re in such a good mood, though. Didn’t get into anything exciting?”

Just failed to get off to one of the smuttiest fics ever written. 

“Nope,” you quickly replied, chewing on your bottom lip. As thoughtful as it was for Suguru to be a loving boyfriend and ask you about your day, you wished he’d chat less and fuck your brains out more. Fuck the clothes, fuck the pleasantries. And it was painfully obvious by the way his sharp, purple eyes took in your antsy body.

Pulling out some clothes, his lips curved into a smile. “You seem a little…eager tonight. Did my girl miss me?” But he didn’t really need to ask. He knew that you were practically in heat and only added flames to the fire by casually throwing on his favorite PJs that hung loosely around his v-section and slipping on a black wife-beater that hugged his torso(I know, that's a CRAZY name for an article of clothing).

Your pussy clenched—Yes God, YESYES STOP THE TORTURE!—silently screaming for him to just stop teasing and give you what you wanted before you exploded, but all you could manage was a whimper and frantic nod, knowing you were just seconds away from showing him exactly how much you did.

Suguru’s smile deepened watching you struggle, amusement dancing in his eyes as he sauntered towards you. “How ‘bout we burn off some of that energy then, hmm?” His weight sank into the mattress as he crawled onto the bed, closing the space between you and softly pecking your lips with every word. “With. A. Game.”

But the way heat flared in your chest as you helplessly fell under his kiss, you didn’t know if you could handle whatever his mischievous little mind was thinking. Still, you felt your body betray you, naturally unable to resist him and growing curious—no, needing—to do just about anything he asked if it meant he would continue kissing butterflies into you. 

With heavy-lidded eyes, you asked what game, growing breathy as you imagined every raunchy couple’s game you could think of. But your anticipation quickly turned to confusion when you felt him pull something from behind his back.

“Let’s read something new tonight,” he grinned. And you damn near went into cardiac arrest. 

With your mind solely focused on getting your hands on your boyfriend, you had completely forgotten about your book, leaving it in the bathroom to be discovered by Suguru the moment he stepped inside. 

And, oh baby, was it insightful.

You gaped, too stunned to speak as he pulled you toward the end of the bed. He settled on the bench and patted his lap, inviting you to sit, but you were frozen in place, absolutely mortified and refusing to believe this was real life.

You were caught, your mind filling with millions of thoughts all wondering how the hell your own carelessness after months of being “careful” ended up outing you, and it took him firmly calling you again before you finally found the courage to move, your brows furrowing as reality hit you. 

Now your boyfriend definitely knew how much of a menace you were—one of those Godforsaken BOOKTOK GIRLIES, of all things—and should’ve been running for the hills.

But he only looked at you lovingly, gently guiding you into his lap and making sure you were comfortable before his arms settled around your waist. He cleared his throat and held the book in front of you. “I’ll start,” and he began where you left off—on one of the smuttiest scenes in the story. 

“Taichi had seen what your mouth could do.” Oh no. “Never failing to command everyone’s attention before you cleared a room with just your words. Now, as his thumb softly traced over those same desirable lips that held so much power, his cock jumped at the idea of them wrapped around it.” 

Holy shit. 

Reading it was one thing, but being forced to hear from the last person you’d expect in the most naturally seductive voice imaginable was absolutely killing you in more ways than one. Especially when he was leaning right into your ear, his chin softly resting on your shoulder as if he were reading you a lullaby. 

Heat flooded your face, but Suguru’s voice was steady and calm—completely unbothered as if he weren’t reading about your smuttiest innermost fantasies and making your embarrassment skyrocket. You felt so vulnerable and exposed and dirty and like you couldn’t get enough air and fuck—you didn’t know what Suguru was trying to prove or if this was his wicked way of trying to embarrass you before breaking up with you, but the torture was too much, and you had to get out of there.

Panicking, you tried to get up, but no-no—he wasn’t about to let you slip away from storytime that easily, and his arm snaked around your waist and secured you against him with a gentle but unyielding grip. His legs followed suit, quickly wrapping around yours and locking you in place, and you gasped in disbelief when your thighs effortlessly parted and exposed your pretty, clothed pussy.

Helpless whines escaped you, and he tsked, smiling at your sudden innocence. Like you couldn’t believe this was really happening. Like you couldn’t believe that the same filth you craved, obsessed, and dreamt over was now spilling from your boyfriend’s pretty mouth, sounding like a limited-edition audiobook Fanfic girlies could only dream of. And if you thought there was no possible way to make the situation worse than it already was, Suguru decided to take things up a notch and bring the book to life.

His lips lightly brushed your shoulder, leaving a trail of goosebumps on your skin as he nuzzled your neck and inhaled your scent. Pressing kisses to the back of your neck, he stole a breath from your lungs when he nipped your ear. Perfectly mimicking the story’s peak and leaving you completely at his mercy as the lines between fantasy and reality blurred.

His hand around your waist trailed across your stomach with a deliberate slowness, traveling down until he grasped your inner thighs, knowing this was one of your most sensitive spots and drawing possessive lines that made your clit begin to tingle and swell through your panties.

Inching closer and closer, the sly smile in his voice grew, and your breath grew shallower until it hitched, sparks igniting when he ghosted over your clit. Your thighs trembled, but his voice remained smooth and unwavering.

Suguru noticed a twisted sense of satisfaction growing within as he felt you squirm, simultaneously struggling to close your legs even though you throbbed like crazy for more. You were caught between sheer embarrassment and undeniable arousal. Not knowing which to give in to.

He pressed his cheek to yours. “You’re so cute when you blush,” he murmured, becoming distracted by your reactions as he poured out endless praise—so flustered, so sickenly distraught and overwhelmed, but it only made him smile.

You always get so shy when he compliments you. His usually confident girl easily coming undone with only a few soft words and a glint in his eyes. And he loved it—the way you always tried to pretend you weren’t seconds away from completely unraveling when he flirted.

He hummed thoughtfully, wondering how long you could keep it up this time. And what it would take for you to fold.

“Finish up for me, pretty girl,” he decided, and handing you the book, his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your panties and brushed your soaking folds.

You stiffened, the sudden warmth snatching your breath and making it impossible to get a single sentence or objection out. 

“C’mon baby,” he kissed your shoulder, fingers stilling right on your clit. “You have such a pretty voice.” 

The fucking Devil.

You let out a shaky moan, not knowing whether you hated or still loved him in that moment, but either way, you sure as hell weren’t going to let him see you crack, and you drew a breath.

Clearing your throat, you swallowed thicky and mustered up the steadiest voice you could to prove you wouldn’t just be a victim of this wicked game of his. And you were doing so well, for a sentence or two. Until his slick fingers started to call your bluff and gradually began to draw slow, precise circles right on your swollen bud. 

And God help you, you couldn't stop the stutter.

“Sm-smeared mas-sc-scara ran hah down y-your f-face.” You paused and closed your eyes, wetting your lips before continuing. “You’d p-pay for your ah used and…and b-br-bruised t-throat in the morning bUT,” you yelped when he squeezed your waist. “It-it was a small price to p-pay to taste a c-cock sss-so d-delish.” 

Suguru chuckled lightly, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you. But it wasn’t enough. 

He needed to see you completely fall apart. 

His free hand glided upward and fondled your breast, his thumb taunting and brushing over your nipple. You instinctively arched into his touch, a series of soft whimpers escaping your lips as he rolled them between his fingers until they were sensitive and hard. 

Your body couldn't decide which overwhelming sensation to focus on—the weight of his fingers just sitting and taunting your clit or the jolts of pleasure running to your core with each pinch of your nipple. Both sent messy moans tumbling out of your mouth. 

He grinned against your shoulder. “You’re so responsive tonight,” he said, adding to the heady mix of lust and frustration. Building you up and bringing you down in a vicious cycle as every time you crept closer and closer to losing it, he was quick to slow and remind you to keep going.

But your thighs kept quaking and your breath kept hitching and you could only squirm so much trying to rock into his touch and steal Heaven, but his fingers were light and easily kept you right on the edge. Touching only your clit and leaving you distraught as your poor, neglected walls began to ache. 

But your desperation was too loud to ignore, and knowing you wouldn’t give up, he smirked—like boyfriend, like girlfriend—and he nipped your ear, pulling back the hood of your clit before he strummed his fingers over it. Fast. “Go for it,” Suguru whispered. 

And fuck, it took all of 2 seconds for your legs to become a vibrating mess and made him wrap his tighter, your breath going light as you rose up on your toes. 

Whimpering. 

Heart racing.

Eyes drawing closed as you mentally sang his praises for allowing you to finally cum. Walking you to the line of release and rapture with every flick of your hot clit and every breath on your skin right up until he stopped.

You let out a defeated scoff.

You weren’t getting off that easy.  

He pulled the long-forgotten book from your hands, and you yelped, suddenly being lifted and bent over his knee. He gave you a second to adjust, then secured you with an arm around your waist, rolling up the hem of your dress before his heavy palm settled on your ass, fingers languidly massaging your cheeks.

You felt so plush as he caressed your skin, gripping you lovingly between his fingers before he delivered a heavy slap.

“Why’d you keep this from me?”

A shriek died in your throat, a million things instantly flying through your head. Shock from this stranger you called a boyfriend, how you ended up here, how no one could’ve ever convinced you that this situation only found in books and on the internet would actually happen to you. 

Endless things to think about but nothing to say.

“Oh, we’re being shy now?” Any other time, you would spend hours yapping Suguru’s ears off about one thing or another and he’d dote on every word. But now they were escaping you. 

*SLAP!*

And he gripped your cheek to soothe the sting, fingers running over the raised marks the rings he never takes off left on your skin.

He hummed, eyeing the soaked patch on your panties, biting his lip seeing you’d gotten even wetter since he bent you over his knee.

His fingers couldn’t resist gently dragging over your clothed folds, just light enough that it felt like a ghost and made you shudder. You pushed back, trying to chase it, your mind borderline broken and desperate to quench your insatiable thirst, but found it impossible to move. 

“Let’s try this again.” And he delivered a slap even harsher than the last, making you squirm under his tight grip. 

Obviously, you hadn’t learned your lesson from earlier, and when you tried to get away, Suguru swiftly pinned your arms behind your back and didn’t skip a beat, landing another series of slaps on the same spot since you wanted to be so damn difficult. 

You knew you couldn’t escape but neither would your words, silent screams building up as you just had to lie there and take it. Emotional turmoil churned within, leaving you questioning everything you thought you knew about Suguru who was promptly lighting your ass up. Bringing to life each hot sting that you’ve fantasized about in stories, on TV, and in the dirty thoughts of your boyfriend maybe one day warming up to the idea—but not like this. This was so sudden. Too much. So overwhelming to the point that nothing came out of you but feeble whines and stuttering breaths until you were on the verge of tears when “I’m sorry!” finally slipped from your defeated lips.

Suguru froze. 

His heart thumped. 

And in the span of a few seconds, Suguru learned a few things about himself. 

1. He hadn’t expected himself to be able to break you so quickly. You’re as tough as he is, hell, even tougher sometimes, and only admit defeat when you absolutely cannot fight anymore. 

2. He hadn’t expected to fall head over heels in love with the sound of your cries and heavy breaths as you tried to gather yourself. 

Knowing he was the cause and this was the effect of you being worn out and surrendering made his dick thump against your stomach. 

He rubbed slow, soothing circles on your flushed cheeks.

“It’s ok baby, it’s ok,” he shushed, and you felt so pitiful yet turned on that you could cry. But as much as he wanted to relish in your punishment for keeping secrets, he also needed to reveal one of his own. “Because I’ve known for a while.”

“You wHAT?” Your voice cracked. If you could look him in the eyes, you would just so he could see how utterly flabbergasted you were because there was no freaking way. “How??”

“C’mon babe,” he snickered, “You watch DevilBoy Games, a lot, and Toru told me how you DBG girls are, I’ve seen you drool over that crazy guy with bags under his eyes.”

“He’s not crazy,” you huffed, “Just misunderstood.”

He laughed, lightly squeezing your thigh. “He kinda looks like me.” 

“Get over yourself.” And you’d cross your arms if he weren’t still holding them.

He tsked. “Are you really surprised, love?” he asked, smirking before completely reading you, mentioning that there was no way you thought he wouldn’t notice the nights when you would stay up late, blushing at your phone. 

Never once wondering if you were talking to some other guy or anyone else, but putting two and two together pretty early on when you said you were having reading time on your favorite social platform known for its…content. Scrolling the site for hours just to soak up pure filth. 

As secretive as you tried to seem about it, the obsession never stopped you from being bold enough to do it in bed.

Suguru pouted. “So, you don’t like me enough or what?” he asked, his tone teasing yet laced with genuine curiosity. He often wondered why you didn’t just say anything—how you could be so close to him and dive into your fantasies but not act on them. 

Your face instantly heated. “It’s not…it’s not like that at all!” you stammered, struggling to find the right words. “I just—it’s different, okay?”

He cocked his head. "Different how?"

“I don’t know I…–I honestly didn’t think you’d be into that stuff,” you admitted, feeling more vulnerable than ever and even a little guilty. You deflated. “I thought you’d think I was weird.”

"My baby? Weird?” He chuckled softly, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin. "That can’t be it.” And he leaned close. “Or maybe you just thought I couldn't handle it," and his eyes gleamed.

Your stomach dropped, eyes going wide as you were once again left shocked and speechless. But Suguru let go of your arms, satisfied enough with your confession and ready to play now, for real.

Your pussy practically swallowed your drenched panties that clung to you as he pulled them to the side, the cool air kissing your folds before you felt his warm fingers swirl over your glistening vulva.

He smiled—you were so sensitive—bucking at the languid strokes as he gathered your slick. He’s always been gifted with his fingers and quick to make you fall apart from the slightest touch.

He bit his lip, unable to resist lightly dipping his fingertips in just to bring them to his mouth and give you a taste.

“So fucking good.” He could play with you forever. Licking his lips, he parted yours, transfixed on your walls that clenched around nothing. Desperate to take his fingers that teased desperate whines out of you. 

“You gonna keep any more secrets from me, baby?” 

You shook your head, desperate to do or say whatever, which Suguru knew, but he needed you to mean it. 

He’d been edging you for almost half an hour now and his own dick was just as strained and blue-balled as your pussy, but he could and would hold out as long as he had to to make sure you’d never feel ashamed enough to hide any parts of you ever again. He just needed to hear the words, and he dipped just the tip of his finger inside you. “Say it.” 

“I promise, Sugu, never again,” you pleaded, your voice shaking. "I’ll never keep anything from you again, just please, I—” you almost choked. "I need you so badly.”

The words spilled out you, sounding so pretty when you begged. And when he finally believed you, your mouth fell open, but nothing came out—a breath catching in your throat and eyes fluttering at that familiar stretch as he slowly pushed in. Walls finally sucking in the fingers they’d been so hungry for.

You could’ve came right then. 

“Fuck,” he swore under his breath. You felt like home. 

Your spongey walls squished and pulsed around him like a heartbeat, his fingers sinking in slow until you drew a sharp breath, your leg twitching.

Right there, he smiled, almost instantly finding that gushy spot of yours that makes you see white. 

He whistled—this mouth-watering position not only gave him an immaculate view of your ass he wanted to sink his teeth into but also let his peace fingers perfectly angle and beckon your gspot. 

His other hand slowly spread you wide, and he cooed, marveling at how easy he slid in and out, his fingers hooking with each dip as he took advantage of the easy access and sent sparks to your toes.

Your teeth tugged at your lip, brows drawing together. He was pushing so sinfully into you, his fingers flowing like waves with the full intent to draw your orgasm out of you as he’d done millions of times before. Always leaving you breathless, heady, and unbelieving how natural it was for him to bring you to absolute shambles.

His pace was agonizingly slow, plunging in and out with a deliberate rhythm that had you trembling and your lip sore from biting and stifling your pathetic moans. His dick painfully throbbed against your stomach, the heat of it branding your skin with each ragged breath you took trying to contain yourself.

After keeping you on the edge for so long without mercy, he was about to send you plummeting into the deep end, his own restraint slipping with every passing second as his pace gradually increased, your slick beginning to pool around his fingers when you felt your orgasm coming on. 

Your muscles tightened around him as he pushed you towards your peak, the sound of his fingers fucking into you rivaling macaroni but had to battle your fat mouth spilling out moans like a starving slut. 

“Ssh ssh ssh.” His hand slipped over your mouth. “I wanna hear her, she sounds so pretty.” And without restraint, the squelches of your pussy fucked the air, your drool slipping through his fingers and dripping down the side of your mouth. And just as you felt time slowing, he quickly swapped fingers, his middle and ring fingers angling down and furiously hitting that blinding spot that sent your eyes rolling.

Forgetting how to breathe, your cherry-O raced around the corner, aiming to crash right into you. Slowly, you began to arch your back into his hand, core tightening. And when you drew a deep breath, eyes screwing shut as you held it, his voice was deep and low to reassure you. “It’s okay baby, let it out.” And he racked his fingers until the pressure of your orgasm burst open.

"ohoHfuckfuCKFUCK SUGUSUGUSUGUOHMYGODIMCUMMING!" You clutched his calf and toppled over, your fluids spilling around his fingers and down your thighs, making a complete mess on his pants.

“Gooood girl, just like that,” he said almost desperately, biting down on his lip to stifle his own moans, but his fingers didn’t slow down, jiggling into you until you were writhing and begging for relief. He just had to make sure he got it all out, his silky fingers swimming deep into your sopping and noisy pussy until he wrung out all your shudders then slowed until your breaths somewhat returned to normal.  

You came down, releasing your grip on him, your calves sore and aching from being on your toes.

Suguru smirked and licked his fingers clean, impressed by the sight of you lifelessly hanging over his legs: pathetic, spent, and cute.

After a moment of just holding you, he leaned down, pressing a kiss on your slightly reddened cheek before giving you an unexpected but quick lick of your pussy that made you twitch.

Yup, good and sensitive, just like he liked it.

Gently rubbing your back, he hummed. “Is my little slut satisfied?”

“Suguru!” Un uh—now he was calling you names?? You barely managed to open your eyes, still in a daze as you tried to look at him.

“What?” he shrugged. “Just making sure…the author said you wouldn’t be,” he cocked a brow with a playful smile. “...Right?”

…the godforsaken author’s note. 

“For all my sluts who’d rather be fucked by fictional men than real ones.“

You ran your limp noodle of a hand over your face and groaned. Just when you thought the night couldn’t get any more humiliating, your fave author doubled back and helped you stumble into more trouble.

But Suguru wasn’t offended, not even a little bit. If anything, he looked amused, a slight smirk gracing his lips with a flicker of something else in his eyes. 

He’d been waiting for an opportunity like this and bided his time. Now, every little secret and hidden desire you thought you’d keep forever buried in those books was out in the open and his for the taking—and he was ready to tear them apart.

“Suguru, I—” 

“It’s ok,” he shushed, his thumb brushing your bottom lip as he tenderly cupped your face. But the hairs on the back of your neck stood up when you saw that sly grin spread across his face before he said, “We’ll see about that.”

Things were a bit…different..after that night. 

It wasn’t something either of you discussed outright, but there was definitely a shift—an unspoken understanding that lingered in the air between you.

At first, it was like you were meeting for the first time all over again, and you slipped back into that shy, uncertain girl you were when Suguru first came into your life. Every knowing look he gave you, every slight touch, had you blushing, anticipating. As if you, once again, had no idea how to handle him—or how he would handle you. 

He was slowly unveiling the quiet power you never knew or expected him to possess. And he was making sure you wouldn’t dismiss it again.

Now, it was you who hesitated before speaking, nervously fiddling with your fingers any time he asked you something even slightly suggestive before your eyes would dart away in embarrassment—not knowing that Suguru was absolutely loving this budding dynamic. 

He would tease but never pushed too hard because he was patient. Always patient and watching with that soft, amused smile anytime you fumbled for words or tried to play off how flustered you were. Gradually coming to terms with the fact that your boyfriend—the same one who always gave you a gentle look and treated you like you were more than precious—was more than willing to cater to and control you until you creamed and cried. 

But honestly, not much had changed for Suguru. He still carried that same calm, subtle soft-dom energy that had always drawn you in—now there was just a label for it.

But there was a subtle shift in the way he handled you, like a quiet reminder that he knew you now—all of you. And he made one thing clear and made sure you understood it—closed mouths don’t get fed—and it was a lesson you had to learn quickly, especially after you promised not to keep any more secrets. And whenever you’d shy away or fall into your usual silence, Suguru would tilt your chin and hold your gaze with those piercing, violet eyes. “Use your words, Pretty,” he’d say, and your cheeks would burn with embarrassment, but you’d still push through because you knew he was right. 

So you stayed true to your word and began looking for all the ways you could experiment and get what you wanted…in the only way a little gremlin like you could…by getting him riled up. And for a minute, he would just take it on the chin. But then he discovered breath play. 

You were really getting on his nerves one day.  

But you felt like you would actually die if he left you to hang with the boys when something in you was practically begging you to crawl into his skin. He was about to leave out wearing your favorite hoodie of his too, the one that's slightly cropped and hangs just above his midriff, and you sulked because you knew that any thirsty bitch in the vicinity would try to be on him like white on rice even when Suguru never paid them any mind. 

Besides, he had already fucked you silly that morning and had been pampering you with kisses all afternoon, so he didn’t understand why you were being so clingy. 

But you were craving something else. A bit of something to eat.

And instead of just telling him that you wanted his dick down your throat and past your tonsils, you decided to block the front door, cross-armed, scowling, and staring at the appetizing outline on his basketball shorts. Jealous that they got to hold his heavy balls all day instead of you.

His fingers snapped, “Babe,” the sound pulling you out of your silent tantrum and making you look at him with wanting eyes. “What’s up with you?” he asked, his tone a mix of amusement and exasperation. 

But you just couldn't bring yourself to say it, so you deepened your silent pout until he pinched his nose and sighed.

“Then move,” he started, stepping closer, but you shook your head and widened your stance like a toddler.

A smirk played on his lips as he loomed over you, taking in your pettiness before his hand thudded next to your head.

You jumped, but your defiance didn’t waver, your eyes lifting to meet his. His smug expression only deepened as he shifted, the heat of his coveted dick pressing against your thigh in a way that made your breath hitch.  

“Move,” he repeated, but you just pressed your lips tighter, your eyes challenging him. 

His other hand slid up, fingers gently curling around your neck and thumb brushing over your pulse. "We doing this again?" he asked, low and laced with threat.

What could you say? Old habits die hard. 

But he knew what you wanted. The way you thickly swallowed and wet your lips, eyes darting to the growing tent between you, spoke volumes even when you wouldn’t.

“Fine,” he said, and before you knew it, your knees were hitting the ground, his hand settling on your head and making you slink to the floor. He tilted your chin. “Open that pretty mouth since you don’t want to use it.”

And at his gruff command, your tongue lolled out, unapologetically.

He tsked, tucking his lip under his teeth at your display. 

You’re the most difficultly-easy person he knows next to Satoru, quick to make the simplest things complicated sometimes, and this time, he was going to give you exactly what you were asking for, but not without reprimand. 

His thumb landed on your pink tongue, pressing and holding your gaze.

“You want it?” You caught a subtle thump, and he palmed his shorts. “Oi, up here” He held your jaw, cocking his brow.

His smirk was devilish, a knowing glint in his eye watching you grow needier by the second—unable to focus on anything but the desperate need for him to turn your throat into a daycare. 

Tongue trapped under his thumb, you finally answered him in the only way you knew how, and he watched with parted lips as yours closed around his finger with an eager nod. 

You were going to be the death of him.

With a tug of his shorts, your fat reward sprang forth, almost brushing the tip of your nose—already leaking stringy globs of precum for giving him such a hard time.

Your eyes sparkled. Suguru has such a pretty dick. One of the prettiest you’ve ever seen that’s girthy, long, and perfectly made for your greedy throat. 

It was heavy on your tongue as he tapped it, teasing your palate and holding it out for you to give it a taste.

Less was said, and you gladly accepted your meal, the taste of him coating your tongue as you swirled around the tip before sucking it into your mouth.  

Suguru’s knees almost buckled as you lapped at him like ice cream, your tongue tracing up and down his shaft before placing gentle kisses under his tip. His face went warm, his fingers threading through your hair as he fought to maintain control. “Don’t—ngh—tease. Suck it—mmph—properly.” And with a firm press to your bottom lip, he coaxed your mouth open before pushing in and filling it completely. 

You gagged, and a deep exhale left his lips feeling your warm mouth finally wrap around him, your eyes watering as the weight of his dick fully seated on your tongue and made your lips stretch to savor every inch.

“That’s it—mphm—take it all.”

His hips automatically moved at the feel of your throat, his head softly falling back feeling you relax and hum around him. He couldn’t help but gently thrust, his spongy tip kissing the back of your throat and making you blink back tears as he tested your limits. And you only made it harder for him to hold back with the way you ate him up like candy. 

Even though head is a game, you never play. All day, you’d been torturing yourself, once again denying yourself of your insistent need to swallow his kids in the name of shame, but once the reins were off, you wasted no time satisfying your craving—knowing exactly how to get Suguru to blow his load.

And fuck was it a losing battle for him to try to keep the tendrils of his orgasm at bay while also trying to remember that he was supposed to be teaching you a lesson.

As he said, closed mouths don’t get fed, and he started pulling away with a satisfying ‘pop’ every time you got too greedy. Rubbing his dick over your lips with a grin before snaking back in and taking you further and further down each time. 

He groaned watching you take him, your eyes meeting as you looked up. The new cut in his brow made them look even sexier when he bunched them, complementing the low and husky look in his eyes you’d never seen before you sent them rolling when he wrapped your hair around his fist and pushed in to the base.

“Hah.” His breath hitched as you swallowed. Once. Twice. Holding you down a sec before he pulled out with an exhale. And as he watched your heavy breaths, struggling to collect yourself but looking up at him with a starry-eyed but fucked out gaze, he got an idea. 

“Why do you act so innocent all the time?” he huffed, pushing back in. “Look at you,” his thumb stretched your lips, “Choking on my dick and loving it.” Always the innocent ones, he thinks, full of frills and freaks. 

And you couldn’t deny how the slow and lewd way he fucked your throat made your pussy drip like a waterfall, uring you to rub fast circles across your throbbing clit, but he knew you would try. 

You were a cock-drunk slut, after all, always getting off when he stretched, used, and abused your throat to his satisfaction, so he knew he would have to lock your hands away to keep your mouth open and you focused since you wanted to taste him so badly.

Still fucking your throat, he said, “Take a breath, baby,” and soon after, you gagged when he leaned over you. “Hold it,” and he pulled the string from his hoodie and began counting. “One, two, three.” Bringing a flood of tears to your fluttering eyes as he sank deep into your throat and tied your wrists behind your back.

Air. God, what is air?? Your lungs screamed for it, stomach tight, but your pussy clenched so sinfully tight from the lack of it. 

You didn’t know it then, but this was an accidental deep dive into something you’d both come to love. The control, the discipline, the trust. The skill you had to possess as a certified throat goat. And most of all, the uncertainty of never knowing when he was going to allow your next breath. Every time counting down until you were squirming for air before pulling out with an exhale as if he were breathing with you.

He ogled at the messy evidence of effort plastered on your face, strings of spit connecting from your lips to his pink tip. His dick twitched at your huffs and tear-streaked face and he rubbed your puffy lips. “Fuck, you’re so pretty, baby,” and the words went straight to your swollen clit before he continued playing with you.

He loved how your throat closed around his dick when you swallowed, like you were trying to milk him for every drop. Sucking, blowing, and swallowing til your throat knew every vein and his orgasm was coming and coming fast. His stuttering hips and tightening grip on your hair were enough evidence if the low moans competing with the sloshes of your throat weren’t. 

Heat pooled in his stomach, brows furrowing as he locked eyes with a borderline whiny look. He licked his lips. “Ready for me to cum for you, baby?” he asked in that breathy voice he always does before he unravels. And your dick-drunk nod, knowing you were about to earn your meal, was all he needed to cup your jaw, making sure you looked him right in the eye as the coil in him snapped.

“Fuck, hah, I’m cumming,” and he groaned, biting his pierced lips and slipping all the way to the base til your nose brushed his tufts of hair and he filled your throat. 

Ropes of cum poured out of him, and he went dizzy, his mouth falling open with shaky moans watching your spaced and gone face as he came down your throat. Your wrists strained against the tie as your throat constricted, but you swallowed his throbbing cock with ease like it was the only sustenance you needed. Pumping you full until he was a soft and empty gummy worm in your mouth. 

He shuddered and collected his breaths, slowly pulling from your lips with a sigh. You hummed and licked them—most of your lunch had gone to your stomach, but remnants remained on your tongue, warm and delicious. 

"ThAnk," you cleared your throat. "Thank you," you huffed, throat raw and voice cracking, but he just shook his head and smiled. You were above asking for what you wanted but never forgot to be grateful when you got it.

He swiped your chin with his thumb. "You're a brat," and you beamed, lifting your chin. Because he didn't know how right he was.

And while that was just the beginning of your exploration of power dynamics, it quickly became a very slippery slope. Because while you might've thought you were the expert in all things whips and chains and excitement, Suguru had been quietly doing some research and taking hellah notes. And taking one directly from you, he soon began to make a few secret purchases of his own.

Suguru has his hobbies. 

He likes to read, play sports to stay fit, and enjoys spending time in nature when he can. Outside of that, he’s pretty simple. 

But there’s a little-known fun fact about your beau—he’s a secret artiste.

It’s rare that he’ll break out his paints and easel, but once every blue moon when his inner Picasso strikes, he’ll sit for hours, brush to canvas until it all pours out of him. 

You always find yourself in a trance watching him in that element—his quiet intensity as he gets lost in space and creates galaxies. But even though Suguru isn't loud about his talent, he’s actually very creative and always looking for different ways to release and create. Never shying awaying from trying new things and always looking for new mediums. And canvases. 

You slightly winced, then moaned. 

Wax is hot in more ways than one, and it’s just perfect for when Suguru wants to creatively get his hands on you.

He loves creating delicate patterns on your back, savoring every moment and watching your face twist between pain and ecstasy as he skillfully lets the wax drip. Never too much at once, the hot lines spill and cool across his favorite canvas—your skin. There's a world of difference between paper stretched across wood, and the softness beneath his hands, and your skin is far lovelier, simply irresistible. 

His hair brushed your skin as he leaned down, his lips tracing down your back and between the patterns. So soft against his lips. All of you, from your neck to your chest to your tummy, softly mold under his fingers like clay when he worships you like art, and sometimes he’ll drip hot lines down your inner thighs and plush cheeks just so he can melt his lips between them—feeling so lucky to have the privilege to feast on a masterpiece. 

Your own little van Gogh, drowning his nose in your folds and bringing curses to your lips.

You knew Suguru was a modern-day Michelangelo with a paintbrush, but now your once shy and reserved man was having too much fun exploring all the unconventional ways he could create art—and slowly crossing over into a world of kinky debauchery. 

And at the end of every session, he never forgets to take a Polaroid picture to show you and keep for himself. A little testament to his sentiments and sensuality. It wasn’t all just about whips and chains after all. 

You also needed—

Buzz! 

Your eyes screw shut and you tense but can’t move because of the

—rope.

“Hey,” Suguru snaps. “I said keep your eyes on me,” and you shot daggers at him because how the hell could you when you’ve been overstimulated for hours and have already cum, twice?  

Eyes softening, you whimper, but your heart sinks when he just rolls his eyes.

Fuck. 

You really did it this time. 

Your boyfriend has a lot of patience, a thin line for everyone else but a lot for you. But God, do you know how to fucking tap dance on it sometimes.

“Did you think you were cute?” his face screwed. “Dancing in sections and on bars. Guys?” The vibrations increase, and you double over whining.

In all fairness, you did beg him to come out with you and your girls earlier, but your boo has been working on a big project lately and was understandably beyond tired. Still, you complained, eventually giving up and still going out without him, but you didn't expect a play-by-play of your night and mini rebellion to end up all over your equally drunk friend’s Snapchat—or for Suguru to see it. 

You picked a hell of a time to act out too, because, after weeks of secretly practicing his newest obsession, Suguru had finally perfected it: the harness prayer tie, and watching your wrists struggle against his work was the most satisfying confirmation of his skill he could’ve asked for. 

The skill and intricacy of restraint and rope play was the perfect balance between tapping into his creative side and reeling you in when you got out of hand—now proving very useful after you had fully pissed him off. 

Leaning down, he grips your face. “You wanna act like a slut so badly, I’m gonna treat you one.”

But he didn’t just give you the dick you’d been acting out over right away though—he hardly thought you deserved it. 

Instead, a vibrator has been nuzzling your clit for hours after he woke you up the following morning and went to work with his tie—your blubbering whines falling on deaf ears as he overstimulated you until you felt ruined and raw.

Sniffling, you plead, “I’m sorry, Sugu.”

“You’re always sorry,” he bites back, his hand wrapping under your jaw. “And so fucking greedy, you know that? I bet you still want me to fuck you stupid like the cock-thirsty slut you are even though you’ve been begging me for a break.” And your stomach pangs, a fresh wave of arousal pooling between your thighs despite the rawness because he was more than right. 

“You want attention so bad, you want me to fuck you so bad,” he pulls your hair, making you look straight at him. “Then beg,” and the serious way he looks at you makes you actually start to feel bad for upsetting him so much.

Swallowing your pride, tears prick the corners of your eyes. “Please,” you whimper, “I’ll do anything just please…please fuck me.”

And the words had barely left your lips when fear shot through you, his eyes darkening as you quickly realized that you should’ve been more careful with what you wished for. 

Without warning, he placed you on the bed and flipped you over. Gripping your hips, he hastily pushed you down into a grade-A arch and tucked his tee between his teeth, springing his cock free before knocking a breath out of you with one swift thrust. 

You both gasp, every muscle tensing as your Earths shatter.

Suguru nearly collapses. Your tight pussy that's been dripping and yearning for hours is easy to slide into yet struggles to accommodate his fat girth, but that doesn't stop him from reeling his hips back and pushing in even deeper.

You nearly draw blood from your lip as he begins to thrust with a pent-up intensity that's been building since last night, nearly blue-balling himself to take care of you in your drunken state and fighting the urge to say fuck it and punish you right then and there.

But now that you were good and sober and overly sensitive, he could finally ruin your dick-starved pussy and fuck you blind. 

His hold on you tightens, his knuckles turning white as he fucks into you with a primal urgency. Not caring if you can take it or not because he needs his dick burned into your brain in a way you wouldn’t forget. Besides, who could possibly hold back when you feel so fucking good wrapped around him? Mind-numbing in a way he can never get enough and desperately needs more, and he grips the divots of your waist and pulls you closer, making struggled whines fall from your mouth as he makes you simply take it.

The nerves of your pussy are on fire as every inch of him stretches and hastily fills you, the persistent vibrator on your clit still buzzing and sending you spiraling.

The way he's manhandling you, the soreness in your wrists, and the relentless rhythm of his hips all blend into a rush more intoxicating than anything you had last night until you're overwhelmed and bucking to get away. 

“Uh-uh, don’t run.” And his hand wraps around your neck, pulling you up and back against him, two fingers hooking in your mouth and making you arch so deliciously that every kiss of your cervix sends spasms through your walls and coaxes his cock for everything he’s got. 

"You feel that?" he snaps. "I fucking bet you do." And your breath grows lighter and lighter until your head goes dizzy, your body turning to Jell-O and slowly melting into the bed, but he follows you down and deepens his stroke. You lose your arch, but with one quick thrust, your nails are digging into your palms. He slaps your ass, punishment for making him mess up his rhythm, before hiking you back up and resuming the brutal pace.

Your mind goes blank and his hair falls from its neat bun, sticking to his sweat-slicked forehead from how hard he's fucking you and leaving you caught between begging for mercy and craving more of this delicious torture.

"Look at you," he growls, "Fuckin' brat—ngh—this is what you wanted, right?" And you can barely form a coherent thought, let alone speak, your reply coming out as garbled moans, but Suguru is having none of it, his hand sliding from your neck to your hair and pulling your head back. You cry out, the sound muffled by his fingers still hooked in your mouth as he bottoms out inside you. "I asked you a question," and the room fills with obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin and fumbling 'yeses' from your mouth as he bullies your cervix. 

"Fuck hah," his brows furrow, "you drive me crazy, you know that?" he says, voice strained. "You wanted attention?" he breathes, "Well, now you've got it. Every. Fucking. Inch of it." and each word is punctuated by his leaky tip, making your overstimulated pussy clench and draw a sharp hiss from his lips.

"That's it, baby," his rhythm slightly falters. "Squeeze my cock. Show me how sorry you are." And his hand slips from your lips and snakes around your front, pressing the vibrator even harder against you until the delicious stretch of his cock and the merciless buzzing becomes too much to bear.

Your vision blurs, your thighs quaking and trying to draw together, but there's no escape. 

"You right there?" He pushes through the familiar clench of your walls. "Then cum for me," Suguru commands, and the words are the final push you need for your orgasm to rip through you like lightning—your body involuntarily arching as waves of hot, white pleasure crash over you.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou," you helplessly choke out, walls spazzing and gripping Suguru's cock like shackles, pulsating around him until it forces his own to come chasing after yours.

He struggles for breaths, "Where do you want it, baby?" But it was just a formality, a silly question really, because there was no way he could pull out of your vice-grip. He just needed to know you wanted it as badly as he wanted to fill you up.

"Inside, please, inside me, please," you stammer, still reeling from your own orgasm before he sends you into another, pulling you taunt by the rope and flushing you against his waist.

"Take it," and his moan is low and guttural, his fingers digging into your hips and locking you in as his body tenses, his hot seed flooding and filling you to the brim.

Your eyes meet the top of your head as you cum again in tandem, bliss rippling through your bodies.

"Fuck, c'mere." His lips crash onto yours in a searing kiss, plunging his pulsing cock deep into you one more time as he rides out the last waves of his orgasm, pumping out the last of his seed until you're both panting and trembling and he feels his cum oozing out of you.

Slowly, Suguru releases his grip on your hair, deeply exhaling as he gently lowers the both of you to the bed, his softening cock still nestled inside you. You whimper at the still buzzing vibrator, and he finally switches it off, tossing it aside.

He presses soft, soothing kisses to your shoulder. "You did so well, baby," and he carefully unties the rope, his touch tender and apologetic as he massages the faint marks and kisses your wrists. 

Out of everything you do together, inside and out of your newfound dynamic, this is his favorite part of all: putting you back together after breaking you into pieces.

His unwavering desire to care for you never changes, even when you do the absolute most just to get his attention and show him that you're just as obsessed with him as he is with you—your private but unmistakably commanding Panther and his secretly kinky Powderpuff princess who was now hanging on to life by a thread.

He softly laughs, slinging your limp arms around his neck and pulling you lovingly into his chest as you breathe. His fingers trace lazy patterns on your rib, his lips peppering your head with kisses as he sighed, feeling your heartbeat slowly sync with his.

But after a few moments in each other's arms, a curiosity that's been living rent-free in Suguru's head for quite some time now rears its ugly head—and he just has to know the answer.

"Sooo," he drawls, "... Taichi or me?" And you almost snort, a smile tugging at your lips as you nuzzle his chest. You look up at him with a playful gaze only to find him deadass—figuring that after a day like today, there would be no better time to officially find out if he's finally settled the score with your anime husband.

Your eyes smile, and you reach up with the little strength you have to gently stroke his face and softly kiss his jaw.

You contently sigh. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, babe.”

extended angel's note: oh god what can i say...

i can confidently say that this took me the entire month of september to write and it's definitely the hardest pieces i've worked on so far god bLESS

y'all have no idea how much word count RESTRAINT i had to use just to keep this reasonable (i do have a slightly extended version just for myself tho 🤭)

this was supposed to drop on my bday (unironically the day JJK ended) but life is life 🤠

anywho, thanks for reading 12k words of pure unadultered, unhinged smut. i hope it was worth it 🫶🏿

[star2fishmeg]

i feel like luke would want to get married young… like he would probably be with his high school sweetheart and just jump for the gun at 21 bc like? they’ve already been together for so long??

idk..

That's v interesting nonnie! I feel he'd tie the knot at roughly youngest 25-ish with someone he met in university, only bc 21 is so so young and there's factors such as cohabitation too. He's only just started his pro career and your 20s is a lot about navigating the world. He may propose at 21, mind you, if he's 100% certain.

You're lying on the sofa watching a movie when he drops the words. He's leaning back into the cushions while you’re lying on his chest, playing with the toggle of his hoodie mindlessly as his hands soothe over back and under your t-shirt.

"Do you ever think about getting married?" he asks out of the blue, clearly his minds been dwelling on something for days.

You pause, your heart beating just that little bit harder yet anxiety twists in your stomach, "I mean, yeah. One day."

"Cool," you feel him nod, his arms winding around your waist and holding you tighter, "does it scare you?"

You prop yourself onto your forearms, catching a glimpse of the look in his eye. It's apprehension. He's chewing his lip slightly as if he has something desperate on his mind, but the thought itself terrifies him. In the three or four years of knowing Luke, spending a lot of time with him, you've picked up his tells.

"Lu, what is this about? You're scaring me."

"Oh fuck, no." His hands slide to your hips, his eyes steadying on yours, "Y/n...well...um...shit, I love you with my whole heart, and you know that. It's just, uh, I'd be lying if I said I haven't been thinking about, you know...marrying you...as soon as possible."

A deep, shaky exhale leaves your nose, "Oh, Lu...you're so sweet bu-"

"-Wait. I think about it all the time and there isn't anyone I would rather be with for the rest of my life. You've been there from the start and you're still here now, you put up with the schedules and you're everything I've ever dreamed of. I don't have a ring, but would you, at least, consider marrying me?" he manages to fumble out, fingers digging into the fabric of your t-shirt.

In times like this, you really suck at finding the words. You're twenty-one, what are you supposed to say? Your lips part but nothing leaves them, and it worries Luke. He thinks he's screwed up, driven you away, said something he'll regret for the rest of his life because he couldn't just think it through more.

"One day." You smile, cupping his cheek and caressing your thumb over his cheekbone. "Yes, one day, I will marry you. But you better have a more thought through speech than that, mister. And for now, let's take it one step at a time, m'kay?"

" One step at a time." he nods, grinning from ear to ear with a glimmer in his eyes. His chest feels fuzzy, and he has this skittish, electric feeling running through him that makes him was to run laps around his apartment. "And yeah, next time, I'll propose better than that and have ring, I'm working on it."

Somehow, you're not surprised he's already putting that together. You only giggle at him, lying back down on his chest and listening to his heart pound in his chest, his arms wrap tightly around your again and one day, you'll be Mrs. Hughes.

[hazbinwhoree]

General Adam Headcanons

SFW

100% dresses like Adam Sandler under the robe

Pronounces bruh like “brah” unironically

Has a high body count, but not as high as you’d expect

He has abandonment issues cause of Lilith and Eve

He’d never admit it but losing both Lilith and Eve to Lucifer really fucked him up

Lilith left him for Lucifer, and Eve cheated on him with Lucifer

Due to knowing the pain of being cheated on, he will never cheat despite the fuckboy persona

Man can actually settle down with the right person

Wears his mask all the fucking time, he only takes it off to sleep

He thinks it makes him look badass and his favorite feature is the horns

He’s tall as fuck (6’5) but he’s kind of thin, so he wears a big ass robe to make up for it

You can only tell by his arms

He likes to appear big

His favorite thing about himself is his dick (surprise)

Listens to heavy metal

Can’t cook for shit

Needs therapy but will never accept therapy

Doesn’t realize how misogynistic he is and if you tried to tell him he would get defensive

“What, I fucking love women, they’re hot.”

Says “nuh uh”

Cried in front of Lute once– they never talk about it

Shockingly, he doesn’t have any STD’s and he’s very proud of that

Sees Lute as a best friend but he’d never let her know she means that much to him

Has a colorful vocabulary of cuss words and unique nicknames, ie “Danger Tits”

Is really good at coming up with unique insults too

Never get into banter with him, he will hurt your feelings

Sleeps like a rock but moves a lot in his sleep

Seriously, he’ll hit every position in one night

His band is actually really popular in Heaven, and he’s renowned for being the best guitarist

Of course, that only strokes his ego

Ego bigger than his dick, for real

But if you can get past his ego, he can be fun to be around

Touch starved

Cares for very few people, but he would die for the people he does care about

NSFW

Absolutely has a size kink

He’s tall and he loves to be able to look down at his partner

It makes him feel powerful, but he also finds it cute

Has tried every sex position possible but his favorite is missionary

Rarely does he do missionary however because he only likes it with someone he cares about

Phenomal at giving head

He has a long tongue and he knows his way around a vagina

Actually has a big dick, he’s not kidding

Like no wonder he walks around like he’s a god

Also has a virginity kink and it’s definately related to his abandonment issues but he’ll never address that

Whenever he has sex, he always goes for a round 2 in the shower

Actually hates being called things like “daddy” and “master”

While he has some kinks, he’s actually not a very kinky guy

But he’s down to try anything

Has been pegged, doesn’t prefer it

His third and final kink is a breeding kink

He has no idea why but its imperative that he finishes inside his partner

Messy, loves being feral in the bedroom

The kind of guy who’s gone right after a hookup

But if he has a partner, he insists on cuddling after sex

Perfers tits over ass

Will bury his face in his partner’s while they cuddle

One time he came from looking at himself in a mirror during a hookup

Eye contact goes crazy with a partner

Needs to see partner’s every reaction and expression

Also needs control the whole time

Will never sub again, he hated it

[emsdevs]

https://x.com/deityofnightt/status/1878467961482055811?s=46 luke at a party 😵‍💫

Little Green Monster

a/n: i fear this turned into a jealousy blurb bc i 100% see jealous!luke as either pouty or whatever this is! i hope you enjoy nonnie!!

masterlist | NHL Masterlists | Luke Hughes Masterlist

Luke had managed to talk you into going to this party with him, but he’d been anywhere but by your side all night. Ethan had dragged him away just seconds after you walked through the door, and you’d only caught glimpses of him since. Thankfully, someone from your stats class had noticed you, so he came up to talk with you. You had been partners in class one day a couple of weeks ago, and you thought he was nice enough. While the two of you were discussing the upcoming exam in the class, Luke was feeling a green monster clawing at the back of his neck.

He’d never even seen this guy before, but you seemed to be pretty comfortable with him. What could he possibly be saying to have you laughing so much? That was Luke’s job. As much as he hated the possessiveness he could sometimes feel over you, he knew there was no chance he could fight it off this time, so he began looking for an opportunity to leave the conversation he’d been having with Ethan and Rut, keeping a watchful eye on you the whole time. Soon enough, he gets tired of waiting and even more tired of watching your eye light up whenever what’s his face something “funny.” He notices your drink dwindling and decides that a good enough reason to move away from his boys for a moment.

“One sec, guys. I’m gonna get my girl another drink,” he barely even looks at them before grabbing a cup and filling it up for you, immediately making his way to the corner of the living room you’re occupying with your new friend.

As you listened to Ellis, the boy from class, talk about probability theory, you felt a hand creep around your waist. You knew it was Luke before he placed a kiss on your shoulder. You turned to head to face him, only to be met with a deep kiss before your eyes could meet his. He pulls back before it can get too intense, sneaking his left around you to steal your now empty drink.

“Here, baby. Lemme take this. Saw you were almost out,” he steals another kiss as he slips a new drink into your right hand.

“Thank you, Lukey,” he’s kissing you again before you can get another word out. He pulls away, leaving you breathless and sort of stunned, going to get rid of your empty cup. You stand, frozen, for a moment, staring toward the direction your boyfriend disappeared in. Distantly, you hear Ellis cough, and you’re brought back to reality. 

“I, uh, didn’t know you had a boyfriend,” Ellis looks a little sheepish, and you realize then that he’s been flirting with you in his own little way this whole time. Suddenly feeling guilty for not noticing, both for his sake and Luke’s, you subconsciously take a step back.

“Oh, yeah! Luke and I have been together for about a year and a half now!” you smile, albeit a bit awkwardly. 

“Well, um, I actually better be going. I have to work tomorrow. See ya later,” Ellis gives you a tight smile before walking off. You decide to go find Luke, so you wander toward the direction he had walked in. Eventually, you find him on the back porch talking to Luca. When he sees you approaching, Luca bids Luke goodnight and makes his way inside. When you get close enough, you wrap your arms around Luke’s waist, leaning your chin on his chest so you can look up at him. 

“Ya get a lil’ jealous?”

“‘M not jealous, pretty girl, but he was flirting with you. I was jus’ getting you a drink, baby.”

“He didn’t know I had a boyfriend, love. He left after your big show,” you let out a laugh at Luke’s refusal to admit he was jealous.

“Told you, babe. I was just getting you a drink. You ready to head out?”

“Nice topic change,” you laugh again, stepping back so you can actually look at him.

“Just answer the question,” he rolls his eyes, but the smile on his face tells you he’s not serious. 

“Yeah, Lukey. C’mon, let’s go home,” you grab his hand, pulling him toward the exit, but he doesn’t let you get far before pulling you into another breathtaking kiss. Once again, he pulls back all too soon, walking away with a smirk on his face and the knowledge that you’re all his.

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