#but of course it's not really that bad there's something you can do about this you just choose not to actively take steps says the me

[wriokitty]

Sukuna is not good at apologizing.

And you? You’re not good at letting go of grudges. The end result is a pretty nasty predicament—you’re mad at him, he’s mad that you’re mad at him, and you’re mad that he’s mad that you’re mad at him. It’s a full circle. The start point and the end point meet and you just don’t know where to begin.

He could always apologize, of course—that would be a lovely start. But he won’t. (He really should, though, you think. It’s his fault).

“Hey,” he says gruffly, “scoot over. ‘S my side.”

You’re taking up the entire bed. A petty, childish, and last resort sort of method to keep him away from you for the night because you don’t think you can handle dealing with him in such close proximity. And of course, you certainly won’t be taking the couch, so that naturally leaves only one option: him.

“Hey. Did’ya hear me?” He scowls, looking at you with deeply creased, deeply furrowed brows and an intense glare that makes you want to throw a pillow at his face. You refrain, however—but only because someone has to be the emotionally intelligent one of the two of you, and it certainly won’t be him. “I said move over—I’m tired as fuck and I wanna sleep.”

“Then sleep,” comes your unhelpful reply.

“They teach you this in the first grade,” he smiles thinly, eyes narrowed into slits as he gives you a sarcastic look, “but you actually have to lay down to sleep. Can’t do that if you hog the entire damn bed.”

“I’m sure they taught you what a couch was in first grade, too,” you counter—and as if to double down on your juvenile, stubborn display of spitefulness, you angle your body to take up more of his side of the bed. “Go ahead and use that if you wanna lay down so bad.”

“And they also teach you in first grade that the couch is bad for your damn fucking back, so move the fuck—”

You cut him off sharply with a rather snobby tone. “That’s not in the first grade curriculum. I don’t know what first grade you went to, but maybe that would explain some of the loose screws in your head.”

He’s had enough. Sukuna is not good at apologizing. And on most days, he’s not that good at being a boyfriend, either. Not by the general standards, anyway. He doesn’t say sweet words or coddle you very much. Sometimes, he’s awkward about affection and doesn’t quite know how to initiate physical touch. And, on most days, he can’t communicate his feelings properly, so they tend to come out wrong. Typically, that manifests in rough, unintentionally harsh words.

He’s not proud of it, but it’s not a switch he can exactly flip off in one day.

But one thing he is good at, however, is worming his way into your soft spot, anyway. It’s a very peculiar, very distinct part of you that for some unknown reason, opens up for him and puts up with his bullshit regardless of what that bullshit is. Fifty percent soft, sweet affection, and one hundred percent stupid, foolish devotion.

He wouldn’t trade it for the world.

He debates it for a moment—because sometimes even Sukuna doesn’t dare test your limits—before he ultimately decides to go for whatever plan he’s scheming. It turns out his plan involves all two-hundred-something pounds of his bulky, muscled figure draping itself over your body with an exaggerated sigh from him. You flinch, gasping in shock, and he simply gets himself comfortable.

Sukuna is not good at apologizing.

Yet, somehow, he’s even worse at reading the room, evidently. You clearly don’t want him near you, but here he is, arguably closer to you now than he is on the average night.

“Sukuna!” You hiss, trying to push him off as you grumble under his weight, “get off! You asshole, you’re too heavy for—”

“Heavy?” He gasps, “this is considered body negativity.”

“Oh fuck off,” you scowl, “you’re doing this on purpose.”

“Doing what, exactly?” He asks smugly.

Despite it all, there’s something surprisingly gentle about the way he lays on you. His head is perfectly situated to rest against your collarbone, his hands delicately have your hips in their hold, and half of his body is slotted between your legs to keep a good brunt of his weight off of you.

More than anything, he’s a weighted blanket than he is an aggravating boyfriend that you’re trying to avoid.

“Is everything a joke to you?” You glare.

He glares back. Equally as hard, equally as intense, but infinitely more infatuated underneath it all. “No,” he grumbles, “just don’t like goin’ to bed mad. So ‘m here whether you like it or not.”

Some part of you can’t help but soften at that. A small, fractional, tiny amount of you thinks…oh. Oh.

(And yes, there are certainly better ways to express: I would like to go to bed without being mad at each other because I love you too much, but he’s not perfect. Nowhere near it. That much is a known fact quite abundantly by now. But you know what he means, and in you’re being honest with yourself…well, it’s enough.

He’s always enough, even when he seems like he shouldn’t be.)

“I’m still mad at you,” you grumble stubbornly.

Your arms wrap around him tightly.

“And I’m still fuckin’ tired and sleepy. What’s your point?”

He tucks his head into the crook of your neck and inhales your scent.

You’re mad at Sukuna. And he’s tired of it. Sometimes, he’s not good at apologizing, and sometimes you’re stubborn about accepting it. In the end, your limbs tangle in bed like this, anyway. You think that’s the only part that really matters.

You sigh, pulling up the blanket to cover yourselves. (Mainly you. He just happens to be there, too, of course. But this isn’t for his warmth, too—it’s just for yours. How cold he is or isn’t through the night is of no concern to you.)

“Night,” he mumbles quietly after some time, “and…and sorry, or whatever. I…well, I just…you know?”

You snort softly at his attempt, giving in and letting your fingers weave into his soft, familiar strands of hair while he relaxes at the feeling.

“We’ll talk in the morning. I love you.”

He smiles a little into your neck. It’s barely-there, but it undoubtedly exists.

“Love you too.”

“A lot, right?” You ask cheekily.

It’s quiet for a moment. You think he’s going to tell you to shut up, or just go to sleep, already. Instead, there’s a hushed mumble of, “yeah. A lot. Now goodnight.”

(You fall asleep rather quickly after that—and admittedly, much easier than you would have if his body was on the couch and not with you.)

Cliche fights before bed that end with a begrudging petty cuddle sesh are my guilty pleasure. My crack if you will

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝐵𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝐶𝑙𝑢𝑏

pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: Your neighbor and friend, Wanda Maximoff, invites you to her book club. The book they're reading is, well, erotic. It sparks something in you, and you find yourself growing closer with your neighbor, in a surprising way.

content warnings: smut, improper use of a book, spanking, fingering, cunnilingus

word count: 6.2k+

masterlist

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡

The rose petals are soft beneath your fingertips, your mind adrift as you tend to the vibrant bushes near your door. The faint scent of lawn clippings hangs in the air, dulled slightly by the thick heat lazily wrapping around you, an occasional breeze brushing by to dry the back of your damp neck. You glance at the lemonade sitting on your front steps, your mouth watering slightly at the thought of drinking the refreshing beverage. 

You clip a slightly dead branch of your rose bush, discarding it in the small, steadily growing pile nearby. There hasn’t been a rain shower in a few weeks, so you’ve been diligent about watering your bushes, but even you can’t beat the arid heat that settles on your town. It’s all anyone can talk about; the endless heat at the height of summer causing kids and adults alike to flock to the brand-new water park in the heart of town.

Ice clinks as you finally cave, reaching over to sip the lemonade through a straw. The taste explodes in your mouth, and you let out a soft sound of relief as the sugar perks you back up. Your fingers slip slightly on the condensation steadily sweating from the cold glass, and you begin to seriously consider retreating back inside to sit in front of your fan.

“Hey, neighbor,” a friendly voice calls out, and you recognize the honeyed tone immediately. 

Your head jerks up, your cheeks flushing as you recall the dirt smeared on your knees, and you’re acutely aware of the loose strands of hair sticking to your forehead. You raise your free hand awkwardly, praying you’re not waving too enthusiastically at your neighbor. 

Wanda had been your neighbor ever since you’d moved in a few months ago, and she’d immediately taken you under her care. It was endearing, really, to have someone care about you while you adjusted to a new city. 

“Hi, Wanda,” you called out, your voice cracking slightly. You could see the older woman smile, her red hair cascading over her back as she walked around her bushes and towards you. You hide your nervousness, sucking on your straw like it is a lifeline, your pulse quickening as she draws nearer. 

Oh god, you probably smell so bad. You’ve been out in the sun for hours, sweating under the sweltering sun, your deodorant having lost its potency ten minutes into your battle with the rose bushes. You’re acutely aware of the sweat dripping down your temple, your eyebags showing since you’d decided not to use concealer this morning, not wanting to have it melt right off your face in the heat. 

“What on earth are you doing out in the heat on a day like this?” Wanda asks, smiling at you and shielding her face from the sun as she looks down at your still-kneeling form. The faint scent of vanilla drifts over to you, and you wet your lips slightly, your straw making a loud sound as you realize you’ve finished the last of your lemonade. You sense that she doesn’t want a response, her words more of a statement than an actual question, a subtle chide at your ability to make rational decisions in the summer heat. 

Helplessly, you gesture towards your rose bushes, your eyes quickly spotting the petals that are slowly wilting, standing out against the vibrant colors. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Wanda says, tilting her head as she examines your rose bushes, “I think they look beautiful. Now, why don’t you invite me inside for a cup of that delicious-looking lemonade, hm?” 

Flustered, you stand quickly, gripping your glass and muttering a quick, “Of course,” before holding the door open and ushering the woman inside. 

Wanda walks straight into your kitchen, sighing slightly at the cool breeze from your AC unit working overtime. Her green eyes find yours, crinkling at the edges as she smiles at you. Smiling back slightly, you rush to the fridge, pulling out the pitcher of lemonade you’d made and pouring a generous amount into one of your fancy glasses. 

“What is a sweet girl like you doing outside working in this heat?” Wanda asks, taking the cup from you. You can’t stop looking at the way her red-tinted lips wrap around the straw as she sips. “Shouldn’t that boy of yours be helping you?”

“Who?”

“The boy with the long hair and the flannel,” Wanda says, her tone slightly off. You recall the other weekend when you’d invited your coworker to the neighborhood barbecue. Wanda had been more touchy with you that night for some reason, her eyes looking at your coworker with light suspicion; you didn’t really mind, assuming she was looking out for you. You can tell that she’s poking around with her words, a hidden question behind them, and you’re all too happy to set the record straight for her. 

“Oh, Jared? No, he’s just a friend,” you say, hoping that your tone is casual. It sounds far too high-pitched, but Wanda relaxes slightly at your words, smiling brightly at you as her fingernails clink on the side of her glass. 

“Ah,” she mutters, raising her eyebrows slightly, “A friend.”

The silence stretches for an awkward beat before you feel the urge to explain yourself. To get rid of the crushing feeling between your ribcage as Wanda studies you, her head tilted slightly. “No, truly, he is just a friend. We met at work and now we kind of hang out outside of work. I don’t know, it’s just… friends hanging out and stuff. I don’t like boys- or, I mean, him like that.” The words spew from you like a messy word vomit, the letters and syllables all jumbled together as you try to string together a coherent sentence. 

Chuckling, Wanda reaches out, her fingers gently touching your cheek. Her fingertips are cold against your skin, and you realize that you’re flushed. You pop your straw back into your mouth, your teeth gnawing slightly on the plastic as you distract yourself. 

“I know what boys want from a pretty girl like you,” Wanda says. It feels like an intimate sort of statement, but her tone is far too bright, an air of casualness forcing its way into the sentence as you awkwardly laugh at her words. 

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that,” you say, unsure of why you’re reassuring her. “I’m not interested in Jared, like that.”

“Hmm, good,” Wanda nods as she speaks, an air of finality in her words. You assume the conversation is over, your eyes trailing over her blouse, respectfully avoiding looking near her chest, as the fabric dipped quite low. You supposed it made sense, given the heat, but the last thing you wanted to do was make your neighbor uncomfortable. 

Wanda didn’t mind. After all, she’d chosen this blouse with the low v-cut on purpose, watching you through the window while making finger sandwiches for Billy and Tommy. You’d been working so hard, your arm muscles showing as you pulled weeds and clipped your rose bush, that she couldn’t help but venture over to your lawn. After all, the boys enjoyed their cartoons on a lazy Saturday afternoon, and your muscles had looked quite striking as you worked in that sinfully thin tanktop of yours. 

“Say,” Wanda exclaims suddenly, your eyes snapping up from where they’d been lingering around the exposed skin of her stomach. “You like reading, don’t you?” 

Your eyes light up, and Wanda’s teeth gleam as she smiles brightly at you. She remembers you talking her ear off about a book you’d read, her mind wandering to the animated way your hands had moved while speaking. She’d nodded at all the right places, asking you questions occasionally, her attention focused on the way your face shifted into genuine enthusiasm as you spoke.

“I run this book club,” Wanda says, shrugging as though it was no big deal, her eyes flitting up to yours to gauge your reaction. “We meet on Friday at my house, when the boys leave for the weekend at their father’s place, if you’d be interested.” 

It’s been a while since you’ve had a consistent friend group or even just a group of people to hang out with. Wanda knows this; you’ve talked about it a few times, when you’ve had a few too many glasses of wine, your face flushed and your eyes dark and wide as you lean into her friendly touch. 

“I would love to come!” You bite your lip as you hide a wide smile, containing your obvious excitement at the idea. “What book are you reading?”

“Ah, well,” Wanda ducks her head, peeking up at you through her lashes. It’s the perfect picture of innocence. “I’m not sure if you’d be interested in this specific book.”

“Please tell me,” you beg, setting your lemonade aside as you lean closer to her. You’ve been searching for some new books, even asking Wanda for recommendations. It’s almost cruel, the way she hesitates before answering, her eyes focused solely on your reaction. 

Wanda finally tells you, watching as you immediately pull out your phone to search for the name of the book. Her eyes are sharp, gauging your reaction as you quickly skim the description. She can’t tell if you’re blushing more than usual, the book is a lesbian romance, but you don’t seem to mind as you look up and smile at her. 

“Can I borrow your book for the meeting on Friday?”

And that’s that. Wanda agrees, of course, her mind racing as she watches you smile and talk about how much you’ve been looking forward to reading books with other people, your words jumbling together in your excitement. You’re leaning closer to her as you speak, your eyes sparkling and lips moving a mile a minute. Wanda takes another sip of the sugary lemonade, glancing at your lips as she wonders if you taste just as sweet. 

God, she can’t wait until Friday. 

—

You’re nervous, your hands fiddling with the loose threads of your shirt as you walk up the pristine walkway to Wanda’s front door. God, you’ve knocked plenty of times before, but this time it feels… nervewracking.

Truly, you aren’t used to meeting new people. Most of the time, others approach you, starting conversations and inviting you into their lives. It had never been the other way around, and the mere thought of putting yourself out there made your palms sweat and your feet develop an urge to run.

Before you can give yourself a pep talk, your fingers trembling as you reach for the doorbell, the door unlocks, startling you. The first thing Wanda sees when she swings the door open is your wide eyes, her eyes softening when she takes in your tense form. She can tell you’re a few wrong words away from bolting back to your house with a poorly mumbled excuse. 

“Oh, sweetheart, I didn't mean to startle you,” she says, and suddenly her hands are all over you, distracting you from the nervousness building steadily within you. Wanda’s hands pull you inside, gently squeezing your arms before wrapping slightly around your waist, her touch insistent as heat spreads through your body wherever her fingers make contact. She can feel you relaxing slightly, your expression opening up as she talks your ear off, telling you that their book club is quite small, but you’ll help grow their numbers as she ushers you into the living room.

“Is that a rabbit?” The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them, your face going slightly red as your eyes widen. There’s a white rabbit munching on some cucumbers, its nose twitching and ears swiveling towards you as you shuffle in your socks on the carpet. Your eyes catch the long fingers gently stroking its fur, moving up to land on the face of a striking brunette. 

“This is Señor Scratchy,” the woman says, her blue eyes glinting slightly as she looks you up and down. “You must be Wanda’s new pe-”

“Agatha,” Wanda interrupts, smiling tightly for a moment before she glances at you. “Be nice to our newest member.” 

Smirking, Agatha just wiggles her fingers at you, her eyes crinkling at the corners. You wonder what she was going to say that caused Wanda to speak so abruptly, but she turns her head before you can ask. Following her eyeline, you smile awkwardly at the woman who enters through the doorway, her hands full as she balances four mugs on a tray. 

“Oh good, coffee,” Wanda says, ushering you onto the couch and slipping her copy of this week's book into your hands. 

A steaming mug is placed before you, Wanda pouring a bit of milk and dropping three sugar cubes into your coffee, just the way you like it. You would blush at the attentiveness, but you’re too focused on the way the woman with the tray settles down next to Agatha, her hands caressing her shoulders for a moment. Agatha’s blue eyes are locked on you as she pulls the other woman’s legs onto her lap. 

“Nice to meet you, fresh meat,” the woman says, her smile sharp. She does not offer her name. 

Agatha cackles slightly, patting the woman’s legs as she takes in your wide-eyed look. “Rio, my love, you’ve scared Wanda’s… friend.”

They’re testing you, that much is obvious. Wanda’s hand is hovering near her mug, her eyes cutting towards the women on the couch opposite from you. Agatha is peering at you from under her lashes, her hands still massaging Rio’s legs, the rabbit having jumped to the floor the moment the other woman entered the room. You can hear him munching in the silence. 

Rio, well, she stares at you openly, her eyes a bit too wide. 

“Well,” you say, clearing your throat as you take a sip of your coffee to give your hands something to do. “It’s very nice to meet you, Agatha and Rio.” You nod at each of them as you say their name. Hopefully, they don’t hear your voice wavering. “This seems like a fun group for a book club.”

“Oooh, I like her,” Rio murmurs, smiling widely at you. It sends goosebumps crawling down the back of your neck, but you bravely smile back, feeling your lips tremble.

Wanda claps her hands once, letting out a breath of air as she brings attention back to the topic at hand. “We’ve started the book, but we’re only a few chapters in so far. Agatha, why don’t you catch her up?”

Suffice to say, Agatha is excellent at summarizing. You understand the first few chapters well enough, and you blush when she mentions the hot older lesbian the main character is pining over, winking at Rio. You begin to wonder about the nature of their relationship, but decide that it’s none of your business. 

“I’m looking forward to the next few chapters,” Rio says offhandedly. “I’ve heard they get steamy, just the way I like my books.” 

“Naughty girl,” Agatha murmurs, then most of your previous questions are cleared up as Rio grabs the back of her neck and kisses the woman solidly. 

You can feel Wanda looking at you from the corner of your eye, and you hope she doesn’t take your awkward fidgeting the wrong way. After all, it’s not like you could easily explain the warm feeling spreading through your body at the sight of them kissing, your nose hyper-aware of Wanda’s warm vanilla perfume wafting over to you. 

“So, do they do this often?” You ask, smiling slightly and injecting sarcasm into your tone as you bravely turn to face Wanda. She looks slightly relieved, an easy smile curling her lips at the corners as you both hear a scoff from the other couch. 

“Got a problem with it, sweetheart?” Agatha drawls, her blue eyes piercing. Rio is wrapped around her, reminding you of a large snake coiling around their prey, and you shake your head. 

“Of course not, I’m just questioning if you actually talk about the book during these meetings, or if you just make out. That can’t be productive, and I truly do like talking about books…”

Wanda laughs beside you, one of her hands landing on your knee as she does so. You don’t mind, needing the extra support as your bravery fades slightly once you’ve said your piece. Agatha is chuckling and when you risk looking at Rio’s face, she’s smirking slightly at you.

“I bet you’d like that,” Rio mutters, falling silent when Agatha shoots her a stern look. 

“Don’t start, besides, she’s right. This is a book club, after all,” Agatha nods at you, picking up her book. “So, should we dive deeper into the chapters then? I’d like to discuss the hints they’re dropping about the more kinky aspects that are to come.”

Oh god, you don’t think your blush will go away for the rest of the club meeting. Wanda’s hand remains on your knee, and you don’t mind when it slowly moves up your thigh. Is it the coffee making you jittery, or something else? You don’t know, but your heart is racing and your face feels practically aflame with every word that Agatha and Rio speak. 

It’s the best book club you’ve ever attended.

—

“So,” Wanda says, trailing off. Her fingers run along the edges of the book, and you watch them for a moment before meeting her eyes. 

Agatha and Rio have already left with their hands hot around each other's waists, a sight you’ve grown accustomed to seeing. It’s been a few weeks, your cheeks still reddening every time someone makes a joke about the smut in the book, but you’ve grown used to the comments and the way Wanda’s hand feels on your thigh. 

At first, you were worried about the implications of her actions. But, Agatha and Rio never commented on it or even looked twice at you and Wanda, their eyes were only made for each other. You’d grown comfortable with the touch, even leaning up against your neighbor at times when the discussion became passionate. Occasionally, your hand would brush against hers, your chin hovering near her shoulder as you read the passages. 

Each touch felt charged, and you were glad you could explain the blush away by gesturing to the book. 

“Yeah,” you say, your head ducking slightly as the silence stretches on. “So.”

“Today was interesting,” Wanda smiles, her cheeks slightly pink as her fingers spread the pages of her book. She’s referencing the smut, of course. Agatha had taken great delight in teasing you, asking you which scene was your favorite, or if you’d related strongly with one of the kinks introduced. 

Forcing a chuckle, you nod. In all honesty, you’d rather not let Wanda know that you’d pictured yourself as the main character while reading the book before the meeting. Your fingers had rubbed furiously at your throbbing clit under the sheets as you read the characters making out, your thighs tightening when the older woman in the book whispered degrading things in the main character’s ear. 

“I-” You begin, ducking your head and smiling. “I didn’t mind reading it but… actually discussing it?” 

“What?” Wanda asks, her voice teasing. There’s a forced sort of lightness to her tone, her eyes sharp as she looks at you. “I thought it was adorable… how flustered you get.”

A chuckle escapes you, awkwardness flooding you as you think about the kinky acts the group had discussed. Rio had been bored, claiming she wanted more out of a self-proclaimed kinky book, but Agatha had shushed her as Wanda launched into an analysis of each character’s psyche. 

You loved it when Wanda talked. She always had the best insights, her words well crafted. She was smart, everything she said was well thought out, and you often found yourself nodding along. 

“I’m glad you think so,” you say, the words feeling thick around your tongue. Your heart is beating quickly, and you take a deep breath as you look back down at your fingers, nervously twisting together. 

“Would you like to read the next chapter together?” Wanda asks, her tone light. One of her hands reaches out, resting gently on your knee. “I’m looking forward to this one.”

“Isn’t this chapter the one Rio said was really… you know,” you whisper, your knee tensing under Wanda’s touch. 

“What?”

“The really dirty chapter,” you mumble, your cheeks aflame as you peer up at Wanda through your lashes. She’s smiling gently at you, her fingers still splayed out on the pages. 

There’s something in her eyes that you can’t quite decipher. The hand on your knee tightens for a moment, before sliding up further as Wanda leans in. You barely hear her words, focused on how soft her hair looks and awkwardly trying not to glance at her lips as her vanilla perfume wafts under your nose. God, she smells so nice and her touch is so firm and warm and-

“I want to see your reactions when we read it,” Wanda murmurs, her lips grazing your cheek as she leans closer to whisper in your ear. “That blush of yours is just too adorable to resist.”

You force your lungs to breathe, your knuckles white from how hard you’re gripping the couch cushion. Wanda pulls back, smiling sweetly at you and patting the spot next to her. “Come, darling. Let’s read the next chapter together.”

Mindlessly, you nod as you move to sit next to her. You try to leave some space, your mind racing while also being somewhat blank at the same time. Wanda simply moves closer until her thigh is pressed against yours, her hand firmly on your thigh as she begins to read out loud in that perfect, low voice of hers.

It takes everything in you not to squirm, your bottom lip sore from how hard you’re biting it. Wanda doesn’t seem to notice, her voice calm as she reads the scene. Her hand is slowly inching up your thigh, and you feel your heart rate increasing at the thought of her feeling the heat that is surely emanating from the apex of your thighs. 

“The cane whistles through the air, hitting me solidly. My body jerks forward, pain erupting on my bruised ass, but Eliza’s hand grips my hair, her voice hissing that I should be still. I listen, my brain screaming at me to comply while my body is brought closer to an orgasm, the pain turning into pleasure with each strike of the cane.”

You rest your chin on Wanda’s shoulder, your attention split between her hand squeezing your thigh and the scene she’s reading. Ignoring the wetness between your thighs, you pray that you don’t leak through your pants.

“I begin to crave the pain,” Wanda’s voice is steady as she reads, with only a slight breathiness to her tone. “I needed to submit, to let Eliza control every aspect of my pain, and with it, my pleasure.”

“I’ve always wondered how that feels,” you interrupt, your mind still thinking about the cane. You wondered if it really could cause pleasure. 

Wanda pauses, her fingers squeezing your thigh for a moment before she turns toward you, lowering the book slightly. “How… what feels?”

“Oh,” you blush, clearing your throat. “The impact play. I just assume that a cane would hurt. I’ve never- well. You know.”

There’s a lingering silence, a sort of tension in the air as Wanda considers your words. She seems to be choosing her next words carefully, her fingers gripping your thigh as she sets the book down. 

“Would you like to try?”

Fuck.

Wanda’s eyes are on you, and you can feel them as you stare at the book for a few moments. Working up your courage, you glance up, blinking at how dilated her pupils are, her green irises barely noticeable. 

“We- I… where would we get a cane?” You ask, the words feeling a bit thick in your mouth. 

Chuckling, Wanda closes the book fully and reaches up to cup your cheek. “Oh, my sweet girl, we don’t need a cane for impact play, anything will do.”

“Oh, right,” you say, feeling stupid. Your brain is full of fuzz, your thoughts muffled slightly. The only thing you can think about is the scene from the book, Wanda’s hand on your thigh moving up further and further until it’s gliding over your hips and pressing on your upper back. 

You gasp slightly as Wanda bends you over her lap, her hand gentle but firm between your shoulder blades. You willingly follow her lead, your chest heaving slightly as you try to calm your racing heartbeat, resisting the urge to squirm when you feel how wet you are, the change in position thrilling.

“Is this alright?” Wanda asks, her voice warm. Her hand is gently rubbing your back, the other playing with the hair on top of your head, petting you somewhat. You don’t mind. 

“Yes, I just…” you bite your lip. Wanda’s hand pauses, and you quickly speak, your chest tight and full of nerves. “You’re a really good friend and my neighbor and I don’t want to mess anything up or-”

Wanda‘s hand moves from the top of your head to cover your mouth, and you hear a shushing sound. Her other hand is slowly moving down your back, warmth spreading through your backside as she moves to caress your ass, your back arching into the touch. “Don’t worry about that sweetheart, don’t you want this?”

You stutter, nodding against her hand as your words are muffled. 

“Good, because I want this too,” Wanda murmurs, and you feel a smile forming on your lips as your heart soars. She wants this too? You’ve felt so much guilt over the past few weeks, blushing when you catch her gaze and then going home to read the book and pretend you’re not imagining Wanda as the dominatrix while you read.

“Say it,” Wanda commands, her voice different. Her hand finally moves away from your lips, returning to your upper back, keeping you in place. She sounds strict, and you squirm at the words. 

“I want this,” you whisper. 

“Louder.”

“Fuck,” you mutter, grinding your hips into her thighs before you freeze, your eyes wide.

Wanda chuckles lowly. “You must really want this if you’re chasing your pleasure while bent over my lap. Say it, darling. I need to hear the words before I continue.”

You can’t speak, your heartbeat pounding in your ears as you listen to her. It’s already too much, your heart is overjoyed and relieved at the same time. Your thighs are slightly slick, your arousal leaking through your underwear and smearing over your sensitive skin. You pray that Wanda can't smell it. 

“I want this.” A part of you hopes that your voice is strong, your conviction shining through your evident arousal. Instead, the words are shaky, your voice trembling with need. 

“Good girl.”

Before you can react to the praise, a moan slipping past your lips, the air behind you changes. The book hits your ass, the solid hardcover sending an ache of pain directly to your throbbing pussy. 

Your body jolts forward, your thoughts quieting in an instant. Wanda brings the book down again and again, hitting the backs of your thighs gently before increasing her force as she watches your ass jiggle from the impact. You’re a squirming, whining mess on her lap, your upper body restrained by her hand between your shoulder blades, the couch leaving indents in your cheek as you arch your back further into her touch.

It’s everything Wanda had imagined. She wants more. She wants you to beg her, to present yourself to her, to… to take everything she gives you without complaint. Your submission, your pleasure, your pain. She wants it all.

“Look at me,” Wanda says, her voice low as she tugs on your hair. 

Gasping, you feel pain radiating into your skull, her fingers unrelenting as she wrenches your head back. You let out a small whimper as you meet her gaze, and she loosens her hold slightly, her fingers scratching your head in an almost apology. 

“What do you want?” Wanda asks, her voice soft. She drops the book behind you, the hardcover landing with a thud. Your ass is on fire, and she begins to knead her hand into it, squeezing as you whine. 

“Um,” you pant out, arching your back and pressing your ass further into her hand. You feel shame coursing through you in tandem with your burning arousal. The humiliation only sends your mind further into the vanilla-tinged fuzziness you’ve slowly been sinking into. “I want you to… fuck. Um, I want you-”

“Speak up.”

Wanda’s voice is hard, and her hand comes down on your ass harshly. Your body jolts forward at the unexpected impact, and you suppress a moan. You weren’t used to this, the image of Wanda as your nice, friendly neighbor clashing with this new, dominant persona of hers. It’s not that you didn’t like it, but your pussy was uncomfortably wet, and the ache between your thighs could only be soothed by one thing. Wanda.

“I need you, Wanda, please make me feel good,” you say, the words spewing from you as you grind your hips down against her thighs. It sounds more like a whine, your voice high-pitched as you plead, but it satisfies Wanda. 

“Well,” Wanda is smiling as she releases your head, your chin hitting the couch as you suck in deep breaths. “Since you asked so politely…”

Her hands both move to your waistband, one curling under your stomach to undo the button and pull your zipper down while the other drags the fabric down your legs. She doesn’t bother to pull them fully off you, bunching them halfway down your calves. 

Your skin burns where she touches you, your arousal thick in the air as her fingers roughly cup you. “Oh sweetheart, you needed this, didn’t you?”

Nodding, you bury your face in your arms, bucking back against her hand in search of some sort of relief. You’ve never felt this sort of burning need before, every fiber of your being focused on the way she feels against you. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you,” Wanda murmurs, your brain processing the words as she peels the damp fabric of your panties down your thighs. 

Holy fuck, you can feel the cool air against your throbbing center. Wanda’s fingers massage the area around your glistening sex, teasing you even while her chest heaves. She sucks in a few deep breaths, her fingers inching closer to your throbbing clit.

“You sound so pretty,” Wanda murmurs, seemingly lost in a sort of trance as she watches her fingers collect your arousal. You’re whining beneath her, your hips squirming and bucking into her touch, and she feels her head spin with the rush of power she feels. This is everything she wanted from the moment she saw you, and now, she’s finally taking what’s hers. 

When her fingers finally slide into you, it feels like absolute heaven. They curl perfectly, hitting your most sensitive spot as you moan into the couch cushion. Your clit throbs needily as Wanda slowly pumps her fingers deeper, your arousal coating her fingers. 

“I have an idea,” Wanda says, her words slightly jarring. 

“Mmmphhh,” you manage, forcing your brain to focus on her words while her fingers curl deep inside you. It’s humiliating to feel your pleasure rising as she fucks you, her fingers working you up while she speaks in a casual, conversational tone. 

“We’re going to read every chapter together from now on,” Wanda begins, smiling as she watches your body. Your hips are bucking against her, your back arched. “And I’m going to demonstrate everything that happens, just so you’re able to truly understand the text.”

Wanda bends down, her lips against your ear as she speaks. “That means, darling, if Eliza fucks our main character until she passes out, I’ll be fucking you until you pass out. Understand?”

You wish you could explain the sound that tore from your lips at her words. It was something between a moan and an animalistic growl, but either way, Wanda moaned in response as she moved her fingers faster. 

It was rough, her fingers pulling all the way out before slamming back into you. This side of Wanda is nothing you’ve ever seen before, and it makes you wetter than you’ve ever been. The image of your perfect neighbor and her warm smiles clashes with the harsh, unforgiving pace Wanda sets as she fucks you.

“Please,” you gasp out finally finding your voice as your fingers scrabble for purchase on the couch. You need leverage, your body limp and pliable over Wanda’s lap as she manipulates your pleasure to her satisfaction.

“Not yet,” Wanda mutters, her other hand grasping the back of your neck tightly. Before you can properly understand what’s happening, her fingers pull out roughly as she tightens her hold on the back of your neck, pulling you backward.

Your head hits the arm of the couch, Wanda’s frame looking over you before she adjusts your body, nudging your legs open with her shoulders and settling between your legs. It’s overwhelming, your hands finding purchase on her head and tangling with her hair as she sucks hickeys around your hips. 

One of Wanda’s hands creeps up your stomach, sliding under your shirt and bra to grasp your breast tightly, her fingers brushing over your hard nipple. 

That is the moment that you lose all sense of dignity. 

“Fuck me, Wanda,” you plead, gripping her hair tightly as she moans. Her lips are near your belly button, her green eyes dark as she looks up at your wanton expression. Her fingers cruelly twist your nipple, your hips jerking up against her at the action.

“A masochist, hm?” Wanda says, her voice teasing as you nod frantically. “Perfect. You’re absolutely perfect, darling.”

Slowly, those sinfully full lips kiss down your stomach, ghosting over your clit before Wanda drags her tongue through your folds. She moans at the taste of your arousal, her chin instantly soaked. 

Your hips buck up frantically, your heartbeat erratic as you chase your pleasure. You need her tongue, her fingers, anything. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” Wanda murmurs, and you believe her. After all, she’s been taking care of you this entire time, with her homemade meals and soft smiles. You remember all of the times she invited you over to play with the twins, and her smile when you arrived at the first book club meeting. Wanda had always taken care of you, and this was no expectation. 

Wanda isn’t gentle, her fingers gripping your hips tightly as she pins you down. You’re too far gone to control your body, your hips bucking and thrashing under her grip as she eats you out with fervor, Your poor little clit throbs under her tongue, whines and moans streaming from your lips when she finally wraps her lips around it and sucks. 

“Oh, Wanda,” you plead, pressing her head further against you before her hand shoots out to grab your wrists, pinning them against your stomach. “Please, I need you. I’ve wanted this for so long, just… please make me cum. Oh, I’ll do anything. Just make me yours.”

Well, Wanda can’t say no to that request. 

“That’s right, honey,” she coos, licking your clit as you jolt beneath her. “You’re mine. You have been ever since I first laid eyes on you. Say it... Say it and I’ll let you cum all over my tongue. Don’t you want that?”

Fuck yes, you want that. 

“I’m yours.”

The orgasm that washes over you is more intense than anything you’ve ever experienced. Every sensation is heightened, Wanda’s perfume permeating your senses as her soft hair tickles your inner thighs, her fingers bruising your hips as her tongue and lips stimulate your most sensitive parts. 

She’s relentless, coaxing your pleasure out with every swipe of her tongue, her moans sending vibrations through your oversensitive core. Her hand squeezes your breast, your nipple trapped helplessly between her fingers as you jerk and thrash beneath her. 

A second, smaller orgasm slowly crests, pleasure washing over you as you begin to feel your muscles ache. Your hands weakly push against Wanda’s head, her tongue sliding through your folds one last time before she looks up at you, your clit throbbing with pleasure from your orgasms.

“Wow, I-” you begin, breathless as you relax into the couch cushions, your body feeling weightless. 

Chuckling, Wanda sits up, wiping her chin and lips with the back of her hand. She pulls you up with her, your body molding against hers as you lean into her side, your head resting against her shoulder. 

The scent of your arousal is thick in the air, your heavy breathing filling the silence as you recover. Wanda lets out a satisfied hum, her hand once again making its way to your bare thigh, her fingers squeezing. This time, the action is comforting and possessive.

“Perfect,” Wanda murmurs, and you nod your head. 

“Yes,” you say, smiling at her. “You are.” 

Wanda picks up the book from earlier, smoothing out the slightly crumpled page, her face flushed and green eyes bright as she rakes her gaze across your spent body. Her pupils dilate again, your clit throbbing at the look in her eyes. 

“We’re not done with the chapter yet, darling.”

---

Dm or comment to be added!

Taglist: @alexawynters @msvenablesbitch @marilynthornhilllover @lifespectator @milkeeteaa @imnotawitch @marvels--slut @justabrokensunshine @dorabledewdroop @wandsmxmff @esposadejoyhuerta @captivepotato @justarandomreaderxoxo @godhatesgoodgirls @snowdrop1026 @maximoffmorale @noturlondonboy @wandaspuppy @xenaizogie @imjustvibingsworld @tobiaslut @subby-lesbian @xenaizogie @sxlfishbrokenheart @huggingkoalas @deliriosinrose @godhatesgoodgirls @yeetus-thyself @wizardofstories @wandastan-2 @undercoversoftie @the-ox-fan20

[ill0usainte]

But, we friends thou? 3k+

pairings: virgin!caleb x virgin!reader

cw: unprotected sex, mentions of condoms, college au, corruption, nipple play, dry humping, messy make out, rough sex, choking, overstimulation, rubbing, loss of virginity, dom!caleb, hentai reader!caleb, cherry popping (iykyk), both are inexperienced, stomach bulge, creampie, pet names (princess, pipsqueak, pretty girl), edging, nasty sex, no penetration, squirting, mentions of blood, crying

Caleb is known for being the heartthrob of the campus. He's everything that people want-- smart, handsome, athletic and was rumored to be "big" down there. A lot of girls in the campus have been gushing over your best friend. Many have been saying that he sleeps with different girls everytime-- but was it true?

And of course, in your part you don't get the hype about Caleb. Yeah, he's your first kiss but so what? As his best friend, you both share secrets with each other. And one secret that you've kept about him is that....

He's a virgin himself.

As cocky as he is-- of course he'd feed into those rumors about him just to boost his ego. Little do they know, he's just a virgin otaku who reads hentai mangas on his free time. At first, it did bother you that he started reading those-- but as time passed by, you got used and even shared some recommendations you've found. And started having interest of his likings.

"Have you seen the new publish?" He asked, eyes glued to his phone as he scrolls. You leaned your back against your chair as you cross your arms.

"Of course, the art improved a lot" You answered, crossing your legs while Caleb shows you a panel of the erotic manga he's talking about. "You bet! It looks so realistic!" He chimed, pointing at the part where the girl was getting fucked and you can only push his phone away.

"Seriously, be glad that some of our classmates went out" You scoff, leaning against your desk as you grab your bag and started putting your textbooks inside. "Come on, I know you agree that scene was hot!" He raise his brow to tease.

"Shush" You silenced him and he only shrug in response as you continued putting your things inside your bag. You can't lie but that scene was really hot-- the way that the guy was dicking down the girl so good. Makes you wonder how would it feel like if it was you.

Your thoughts were pushed away when he interrupted. "Oh, I almost forgot" he said, straightening his back as he grab his bag and opened it. "I just finished the manga that you recommended me a few days ago" Grabbing the book from his bag as he placed it on your desk-- and you were quick to snatch it. It was embarassing the fact that the cover of the manga was a girl getting railed.

Hugging the book against your chest as you glare at Caleb and punched his shoulder, earning a grunt from him. "No need to be harsh, pipsqueak" He chuckled, as he looks at you in amusement.

You whisper curses at him as you opened your bag wider to fit the book in but something suddenly fall out.

A condom.

"Wha-" He froze, as his eyes widened-- looking at the packet of condom over your desk. Your eyes shifted to him as you look at him confused.

You hum, and followed where his gaze was at-- making your heart drop when you saw the packet of condom over your desk, you quickly grab it by your hand and shove it inside your bag. "Haha- my bad...." You chuckle awkwardly as you sweatdrop, closing your bag and rested your hands over your lap-- eyes glued to somewhere while you pretend nothing happened.

"I'm pretty sure that was a condom...?" Caleb thought, sweadropping also as he cleared his throat. But at the same time he wants to push your buttons--to see where you'd last.

"...an interesting thing you're carrying around...." He smiled, making you uncomfortable as you felt heat rising through your body out of embarrassment.

"It's just something I bought out of curiosity....." You answered, fixing your skirt because it was revealing a glimpse of your plushed thighs. Caleb noticed how you shift--only makes him want to push further. I mean maybe something might happen after this?

"Oh...I thought you're going to use it"

"Huh- haha no way...."

Awkwardness seeps between the both of you--while you try to not steal glances at the male. Inhaling deep as you question him.

"Do you have one, Caleb?" You asked.

"Have what?"

"Well...a condom?" You whisper, loud enough for him to hear as you toy with the ends of your skirt. Caleb blinks as he looks away, leaning against his desk while fidgeting his pen.

"I don't...not like I'd have a chance to use one anyway" He joked, shaking his head lightly. You nod at his words as you pursed you lips. You can't help but wonder if all of those rumors about him is true-- about "big" he was. Even though you knew he's a virgin there's still apart of you that doesn't believe that.

Class ended early as you and Caleb walked together. Talking about the new mangas that were published while enjoying each other's company.

"I swear that old man should stop giving us new assignments everyday" Caleb sneers, putting his hands behind his head while walking besides you.

"He should, I swear I noticed his bald spot earlier during lecture" You snort, making him laugh at your words as you joined.

You were glad that everything went to normal-- that Caleb forgot about that condom incident earlier. You can only swear that if he brings up the topic again you would just dig your own grave out of embarrassment.

The laughters piped down and you both continued walking together-- your eyes focused on your surroundings while Caleb on the other hand is urging to bring up the topic again.

"Hey"

"Hm?" You answered, eyes glued to the path.

"So, that condom talk earlier.." He spoke, looking somewhere while you paused. Cursing at yourself because you knew Caleb damn well--if something peeks his interest he wouldn't let go of it.

Inhaling deep as you face him--he puts his hands inside his pockets and gave you a sincere smile-- not that smile, you knew that he's plotting something which makes your body shiver at the sight of it.

"If someone were to ask you to 'use it' would you?" He asked, tilting his head as he waits for your reply. The question makes your body heat rise as you put a hand on your nape.

Letting out a soft awkward chuckle as you look at him "That's way to sudden" You mutter, making Caleb chuckle as he puts a hand over your head-- ruffling your hair.

"Like y'know, the thing I read on that manga you let me borrow" He said and your shoulders tensed up. Glaring at him as you pushed away his hand away from your head because it was messing up your hair.

"Hmp, don't bring me into your erotic fantasies" You huff, brows furrowed while you clutch onto the strap of your bag.

But the thought of it sends excitement through your body onto your clothed pussy-- I mean you'd always wondered what it feels like getting fucked and would you waste this chance? But the only problem is that, Caleb.

You can't imagine seeing your childhood best friend dick you down-- but the thought of it. Too consumed by your thoughts, Caleb pushed the topic further.

"So, what do you say?" He asked, making you snap back at your thoughts. You gulped as you look at him. Lowering your head while you fidget with your fingers-- hesitating if you're going to do it or not.

"We only live once, so risk it!" The voices in your head said in unison.

"I'll let him use it.."

It didn't take long for you two to arrive at Caleb's dorm. Feeling nervous as you try to calm yourself-- while Caleb on the other hand was all chill. You can't help but feel frustrated, can't even believe that you're going to loose your virginity to this man in front of you.

But what you didn't know, is that Caleb was more anxious than you. You both sat besides each other over the edge of his comfy bed as you clear your throat catching his attention.

"So what now...?"

"Right-- Uhm" Putting a hand over his nape as his usual sheepish attitude drains out of his body.

"...let's get naked first." It's rather a command than a question--Caleb nods at your words as he chuckle.

Pouting at him as your hand playfully pushed his face away from your direction "...I don't want you to look.." You confessed, face flustered making him smile as he hums.

"I'm still going to see you naked later, y'know that right?" He teased only for you to push him away more making him give up as you face his back.

Pursing your lips as you unbutton your top-- starting from the top to the button. Your eyes trailed to the figure in front of you-- Caleb removed his shirt in one go, revealing his well built back. And what got your attention was his muscular biceps. You can't help but stare at it but you were interrupted when you heard him talk.

"Like the view?" He chuckles, making you roll your eyes as you told him to shut up. As you finished unbutton your top, you slowly removed it from your body--leaving you just in your lacy bra hugging your plushed tits.

"Hey"

"Hm?" You hum. "Can I look?" Caleb asked, moving his head to the side a bit as he tried to get a glimpse of you behind. You quickly used your arms to hide your tits while glaring at him.

"You sound like a pervert"

"Come on, princess" He pleaded, Your gaze focused on his back as you sigh-- finally giving up as you removed your arms away from your chest. The man in front of you then quickly shifted his body to your direction-- now facing you as his eyes trailed on your plushed tits. His face flushed as he licked his lips-- letting out a soft chuckle while smiling.

"Wow....I couldn't tell at all that you're hiding something like these behind your clothes" He remarks, making you gulp as you sweat drop. "Is that so..." You mutter, lowering your head as your eyes focused on him.

Don't look at him with those eyes-- those doe innocent eyes of yours. Makes him want to bend you over and just fuck you on the spot.

Biting your lower lip as you both stare at each other. "Can..I touch them?" He asked, his hands clenching-- eager to touch your plushed tits. You nod at his words, he had to look at you again to make sure-- his hands tremble as he reached out to your tits in display.

Palm of his hands came in contact with your plushed tits as he gently massaged it-- he couldn't believe it, he's finally touching a literal tits right now. His gesture made your body squirm as you try to bit your lower lip to muffle your moans. Breathing softly as your hand reached behind your back to undo the hook of your bra. Unhooking it in one go as your bra fall from your shoulders as it spills out your bare tits to the male.

His hands continued to massage your tits, thumb toying your perked nipple as you let out a moan-- making him startle as he retrieved his hand.

"Ah- sorry" He apologize, you shook your head and reached out for his hand-- bring it back to your tits. "N-no...you can touch them however you like" You mutter, making Caleb gulp as he starts to feel heat gushing through his body. You're definitely putting fuel to the fire.

Caleb is anxious as he continued massaging your tits with both of his hands-- thumb rubbing circles and pinching your perked nipples earning sweet whimpers and moans from you. The sight makes his cock harden inside his pants-- he can't help but feel aroused seeing you so sensitive to his touch-- so needy.

Your soft moans occupied Caleb's mind-- your moans can't even compare to those erotic hentais he watched, yours is too hot-- like music to his ears. You blabber words at him but he's not listening at all-- too focused on fundling your tits.

You can't help but feel satisfaction that you're able to fill his thoughts-- smirking as you look at him with your hazy eyes. "Are they your satisfaction, miste--?" Your words were cut off when Caleb suddenly lounged at you and pinned you down over his bed. Both of his palm holds your wrists at both side as his soft lips latched onto your tits earning a yelp from you while you squirmed.

"W-wait-..Caleb--!" But he doesn't budge, continuing to suck your sensitive tits as his hot tongue swirls around your perked nipple making your toes curl. His other hand lets go of your left wrist as he reached out to your thigh and places it on the side of his hip. Positioning his hardened cock against your clothed pussy.

Feeling the arousal gushing through your aching pussy as you feel him grind his hardened bulge against your wet clothed pussy. Finally removing his hand from your other wrist as it moves to your left tit and massaged it while he sucked on the other one. Your hands run through his black lock and tried to push him away from your tits--but he wouldn't, still latching on it like a hungry mad man.

"Ngh-! Too much...C-Caleb....Caleb-!" You moan, as your hands cup his cheeks pushing his face away-- he finally gives up, earning a loud 'pop' when he pulls away from your perked tits. Cupping his cheeks as you can see drool from the side of his mouth making you grunt as you noticed how he filled your tits with his saliva.

"Please..." He pleads softly, rubbing his cheek against your palm like a cat begging its owner for food. His muscular arms sneaks behind your back as he wraps it around your waist-- burying his face against your tits. Where did the usual cocky Caleb go?

Letting a soft whimper as you feel him grind against your wet clothed pussy-- shamelessly. Caleb lift his head up as he looks at you with pleading eyes.

"Wanna put it in so bad....but..."

"I don't want to rush you" He exhales, while your heart flutters in awe. Caleb has always been prioritizing your needs other than his-- he wants to make you comfortable, he's not the type to rush you to do things. You flutter your lashes as you lean closer-- connecting your soft lips to his, Caleb melts against your warmth as he relaxes, continuing to grind slowly against you.

His hand reached to the waistband of your skirt along with your lacy panties as he slowly pulls it down-- discarding it on the floor. Pulling back from the kiss as you both pant-- your tongue sticking out as a string of saliva connects to both of your tongue. You're such a hot mess for Caleb-- it makes his cock twitch even more.

"So sensitive just for me...."

His fingers brushed away some strands of your hair from forehead-- you blink, noticing a wet patch on his gray sweats, your eyes then trailed on the visible bulge in front of you. Making your wet pussy twitch.

Caleb is not experienced--but he learned a lot from those hentai mangas he read. And of course a key to start off railing a girl aka his best friend is to penetrate their aching pussy first. He said to his mind.

While you on the other hand was eager-- already wanting to be dicked down by Caleb. Want him to stretch your virgin aching pussy so bad.

"Caleb"

"Yes, princess?"

"Please fuck me"

His brows raise in surprise as he looks at you "But, I need to penetrate you first-- it might hurt if we're going straight at it" He said, tone laced with worry. He feels like he's rushing you-- he doesn't want to.

Feeling embarrassed as you looked away "It's okay...I can handle it" You whisper, your cheeks flushed red. Caleb is having mixed feelings-- he never seen you so vulnerable, so submissive towards him. He can't help but want to abuse the control he has over you.

He clicks his tongue as he chuckled-- grabbing your hand and intertwined it with his, kissing the top of it as his eyes locked on yours.

"You're going to take it like a good girl." It wasn't a question-- your mind goes hazy, all you can think of is being intoxicated with the heat of both of your bodies. You flutter your eyes at him and nod-- following his order like a puppy.

He lets go of your hand and slowly pulls down his sweats-- leaving him with his boxers, you can't help but look at his visible bulge. Oh he's hard-- very hard. You gulped at the sight of it, noticing a wet patch on the part where his tip is-- already oozing pre-cum.

"Don't stare at me like that" He snorts, grabbing both of your thighs-- hands gripping the plushed flesh as he placed it on the side of his hips.

Pulling down his boxer as his hardened cock bounced up against his pelvis-- your eyes widened when you see his cock in display.

You felt embarrassed-- those rumors were indeed true. Caleb's cock is thick and long-- you can see visible veins lining while his angry red tip is already oozing cum.

"W-wait-!" You breathe out when you see him position his aching cock against your hardened clit.

You both locked eyes-- his eyes were filled with love and lust while he continued on rubbing circles against your hardened clit using his tip-- using the pre cum as a lubricant to make it slippery to rub on.

"Let me take care of you..." He muttered, rubbing his tip against your wet pussy lips-- smearing his cum all over it. Earning moans from you as your toes curl, feeling his gritty cock run against your folds to your hardened clit. It sends arousal to your throbbing wet pussy.

Caleb lets out soft grunts and moans as he holds his hardened cock with his palm, pumping it up and down while pressing it against your clit-- making your body twitch with every stroke.

He fastened his pace of rutting his aching cock against your hardened clit. "F-fuck-- I haven't even got inside of you..and I'm already a mess with just rubbing it against your pussy..." He growled, continuing to rut against you making your eyes roll as you felt the bed shaking.

Breathing heavily while you endure the friction against your hardened clit to your puffy slit--a drooling mess as he mixed his pre cum and your juices together and smearing it all over your poor pussy.

Feeling the arousal rising-- you can feel your climax taking over, too overstimulated as you're eager to cum. But just right after you felt the walls of your pussy throb as it ready to release--Caleb stopped rutting his angry tip against your hardened clit. Making you whine in return while you look at him with your glassy eyes.

"W-wha- why--,?" You complained, looking at him while he brushed some strands of his hair sticking out of his sweaty forehead. Panting heavily as his gaze towards you darkened. He lets out a husky chuckle while kneading the plush of your thigh with his hand.

"it'd be a waste if I'd cum outside, right? " He whispered, leaning close to you as your perked tits were pressed against his chest. Feeling his hot breathe against your skin-- making you hitch, your ears perked when you hear him reach out to your bag placed over the nightstand beside.

Even feeling intoxicated, you moved your head where his hand was reaching at-- you quickly grabbed it as you pull it away from your bag. Making Caleb confused as he breathes.

"What?" He stopped reaching out to the condom inside your bag-- you pulled his hand away as you guide it towards your lips. Placing kisses against his fingers with your soft lips while you look at him with your hazy eyes-- just filled with words unsaid. And for Caleb it just translates into "raw, next question"

The sight makes him aroused as he shook his head lightly. "Too impatient? Bad girls like you needs to be punished" He said-- voice low and husky as he slowly pulls away his hand from your grasp and pulls in down-- tracing your chin to your neck.

You bit your lower lip-- you try to hide the fact that you're getting more hornier seeing Caleb being so dominant towards you. But your fucked up face didn't helped. You yelped when you felt his veiny hand grab your neck as his grip tightens--not in a way that you couldn't breathe.

"I'll make sure to fuck you so good-- shit, even better than the ones I've read." He chuckles, making your mouth agape as he pressed your legs against your perked tits. His other hand holds his gritty cock as he positioned it against your drooling slit.

Your heart beats faster-- too anxious and aroused at the same time, while you wonder if his cock would even fit inside your tight little pussy. Too occupied with your thoughts, you suddenly felt him push hit tip inside your tight hole-- causing your eyes to widen as you let out a grunt.

"ngh-! I-i...I don't think it will fit--! Ah!" You moaned, feeling him force his tip to stretch out your tight hole. His hand tightened more around your neck as he chuckles."H-hah-- it's just the tip and you can't handle it?"

"fuck, I wonder what would it be like if I slam my whole cock inside?"

Tears stream down your cheeks while you drool. Seeing him having a hard time pushing his gritty cock inside your pussy--earning loud moans from you while you endure the way his tip is stretching your little hole.

"'ts hurt...s-so much.." You babble, as you bit your lower lip. Caleb pants, as he slowly pushed his gritty cock even more-- your tight hole finally swallowing his whole tip. Even with just the tip inside of you, makes Caleb want to cum and make a mess out of you.

"f-fuck--!"

It's so warm-- he feels like he's in a kiss of ecstasy. The way the walls of your warm tight pussy is hugging his tip so good while it throbs-- is such a euphoric feeling. Shit, he can't even describe what he's feeling right now, finally having to empty his balls in a literally pussy and not with those hentai mangas he reads.

You cried out while Caleb drill his gritty cock inside your warm tight pussy. Both of your bodies tremble, his hand finally letting go of your neck as it joins to hold both of your thighs together and pressed it against your tits. You finally exhales as you try to catch your breath-- hands gripping the covers of the bed tightly.

"nghhhh-! Hah- 'ts hurt so much, I can't-!"

"Fuck!" You screamed, feeling his whole cock slide inside of you so quick-- tears streamed even more as you cry out, grunting as you felt the pain of his gritty cock stretching your tight pussy so good. You drool as you try to process of what happened, feeling a hot liquid oozing out of your entrance.

"S-shit, tight hole finally swallowed me whole" he chuckles, eyes looking down at your pussy sucking him. Blood dripping out of your entrance--just like what he saw on every hentai mangas he read, a cherry pop. His hand reached for your clit as he rubbed circles against it-- making your legs tremble.

"'m gonna start movin', 'kay?" He muttered making you nod as you swallow your cries. He leans close to you-- kissing your forehead as brushed some strands of your hair away. Forehead against each other as his lips slammed to yours. Pulling you into a heated kiss--pushing his hot tongue inside your mouth, as he explored every part.

You moaned between the kiss as you feel him pump his gritty cock in and out of your tight pussy. He was only pushing a small distance inside your pussy--trying to stretch you slowly before he dicks you down for real. You swallow his cock so good, he can't help but grunt each time the walls of your warm pussy throbs--on how it hugs his fat cock so well.

Angry red tip kissing the lips of your womb as he continued on with his pace-- you felt a knot forming inside while gushing an upcoming climax thought your throbbing pussy.

Hot tongues dances and swirls with each other-- leaving you both in drooling mess while you suck on his tongue. This was different from the first kiss you two shared-- this isn't a small peck anymore this is one nasty heated make out.

Hot bodies against each other-- you can't feel your juices oozing out of your pussy as it soaks the covers of the bed, leaving a nasty mess under.

His thumb continued on rubbing your hardened clit-- using your juices as a lubricant for it to be slipper to move on. Your body twitches when you felt him pinched your clit, earning a soft whimper from you.

He pulls away from the kiss, smearing your drool to the side of your mouth while you pursed your lips. Just right after that you yelped as you felt him fastening his pace of fucking your tight pussy. You cried out, your hands wrapping around his chest while you dig your nails against the flesh of it-- earning a grunt from him.

"fuck-- ha- how d-does it feel? Seeing your best friend taking your virginity" He snickered, the fucking is so sloppy-- you hear the sound of your pussy slapping against his pelvis-- causing clap sounds.

"'ts so fuckin- hot- ngh-- dicking you down"

The gushing of your blood and juices mixed together as he fucks it back in-- you can feel your climax on its edge, ready to release. You babble nonsense while you cry against the crook of his neck. Sticky body against each other while he plants kisses over your face.

"cum--! Cumming-!" You screamed out, tightening your legs wrapped around his hips as Caleb continued to drill his cock inside of you relentlessly-- stretching your walls so good as his cock fills every part of it.

You bit down his neck and cried, releasing your high as it squirts against his cock and pelvis. Your pussy is definitely designed just to be a cocksleeve for his fat gritty cock.

"hah-...cum for me, pretty girl"

Poor you, your mind is occupied of Caleb's fat cock. It amuses him that you're a blabbering mess-- just letting out words like "too much, hurts, Caleb, Caleb, Caleb, cumming-, cum, Caleb" and he loves you for that. Because it means he dicking you down so good-- it made you feel like you're in cloud 9.

Caleb grunts as he felt your hot juices against his cock-- squirting endlessly as it drips down like a waterfall. He can feel your hot breathe against the crook of his neck while you sob, but he doesn't stopped there.

"d-dont be passing out-- h-hah..on me" He muttered, pulling out his whole cock out as he slams it back in-- he continues his rhythm as his fast pace remains unchanged. Fucking you like a dog in heat and like there's no tomorrow.

"no more-! Ngh-! Caleb--!"

He continued drilling his fat cock inside while your mind goes hazy as you feel like passing out. Caleb's breathing unsteadies, feeling his throbbing cock twitching inside of you as he pump it in and out-- he can feel his climax building up to his tip. His thumb pushed down his bulge against your stomach as he continues fucking you-- feeling his tip hit against the walls of your stomach.

The walls of your throbbing pussy tightened around his fat cock-- preparing for another release. He felt it too, causing him to let out a hoarse grunt as he continued to rut inside. "Fuck..fuck fuck-- I-I'm cumming, pretty girl"

"w-where-" Before he could finish his sentence you replied quick.

"I-inside!"

And with that, Caleb lets out a soft whimper-- shooting loads and loads of his thick hot cum inside your tight pussy, painting the walls white as he fucks it even more inside of your womb. Following, you release your high, squirting as it drips down out of your pussy--oozing along with his cum.

Caleb hugs you against him as his body trembles still shooting more loads inside your aching pussy as it tightens around his fat cock. You hugged him back, feeling you clench around him as your mind went blank--too cockdrunk to say anything as you let him be.

Let him give you a creamy creampie on your first sex.

He collapsed over your body, face against the crook of your neck as you felt his hot breathe against your skin. You squirmed as you felt his hot cum leaking out of your tight entrance--dripping down to your legs and to the covers of the bed.

Caleb looks over you as he caress your cheek, thumb brushing your eye as you closed your eyes--melting through his warmth while you softly sigh.

But oh...he's not done yet.

"Let's....hit it from the back. Want to see your ass clap, pretty girl.."

Don't worry, you'd get used to it. After all, that's what friends do.

This isn't proofread, sorry if there are mistakes T_T

masterlist

[prettygirl-gabi]

Special Guest

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

POV: First-person

Fandom: UConn’s Women’s Basketball

Word Count: 1,500+

Summary: we have a special guest for the podcast

Tags: @paigeshirleytemple , @unknowngirlypop , @paigeluvvr , @melpthatsme , @authentic-girl03 , @lessi-lover , @courtsidewithlani

I adjust my mic and glance at Kayla, who’s lounging comfortably against my pillows, setting up her recording equipment.

“So, let me get this straight,” I start, tilting my head at her. “You, Kayla Williams, decided that my dorm—my bed, specifically—was the best place to record this episode?”

Kayla smirks. “You act like this isn’t the most comfortable setup ever. It’s cozy, it’s intimate, it’s giving vibes. Plus, do you really think I was about to record in one of those stiff chairs in the common room? Be so for real.”

I shake my head, laughing. “You just didn’t wanna book a studio.”

“Correct.” She grins, popping a piece of gum into her mouth. “Now, get comfy, and let’s start—”

Before she can finish, my dorm door swings open, and in walks Paige.

Scratch that—drags herself in.

She looks exhausted, still in her practice gear, her low ponytail a little frizzy from sweat, and her duffle bag barely hanging onto her shoulder. She doesn’t say anything, just lets out a deep sigh and makes a beeline for my bed.

“Uh, hey?” I say, watching as she tosses her bag to the floor, taking her ponytail out and flops onto the mattress like she’s been carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Without hesitation, she burrows into me, laying her head directly on my stomach, her arms loosely wrapping around my waist.

I blink down at her. “Paige?”

She hums in response but doesn’t move.

Kayla raises an eyebrow. “Yo, is she good?”

“She had morning practice,” I explain, running a hand through Paige’s locs. “Guess it wiped her out.”

Kayla snickers. “Nah, this is crazy. She didn’t even say hi.”

I poke Paige’s shoulder. “You good, baby?”

Paige nuzzles deeper into me, sighing. “Mhm.”

“Wanna move?”

“No.”

I glance at Kayla, who’s grinning like she’s witnessing something hilarious.

“Oh, she’s whipped,” Kayla says, adjusting her mic. “You sure you still wanna record? Your girl looks real comfortable.”

I glance down at Paige, who’s already breathing slower, her body completely relaxed against mine.

“She’ll be fine,” I say, settling back into the pillows. “If she’s tired enough to fall asleep while we talk for an hour, she probably needs the rest.”

Kayla shakes her head, still smirking. “Alright, your relationship is crazy soft, but let’s get into it.”

She presses record, and just like that, we start the episode.

—

Thirty minutes in, Paige hasn’t moved an inch.

She’s completely knocked out, her breath warm against my hoodie, her arms still lazily wrapped around me. Every now and then, she shifts, sighs, or tightens her grip, but for the most part, she’s dead to the world.

Kayla, of course, is having way too much fun with this.

“Okay, so what I’m gathering,” she says, pointing at Paige’s sleeping form, “is that you got this superstar, face-of-UConn-basketball, Paige Bueckers, so down bad that she literally needs to be on you to function properly?”

I roll my eyes. “She’s just tired.”

Kayla gives me a look. “Nah, see, I’ve known Paige for a while, and I ain’t never seen her like this with anyone else.”

I fight a smile, absentmindedly running my fingers through Paige’s hair. “She likes being close to me. Is that a crime?”

Kayla grins. “Not at all. It’s just hilarious how you try to act all nonchalant about it.” She leans toward the mic dramatically. “Y’all, let it be known that Paige Bueckers is a clingy girlfriend. Possibly the clingiest.”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “She’s not that clingy.”

Kayla gestures at Paige. “Bro. She fell asleep on you mid-podcast. You might as well get her a ‘Property of Y/N’ shirt at this point.”

I bite my lip to keep from laughing. “She does have a hoodie that says ‘Y/N’s Favorite.’”

Kayla howls. “Oh, nah! That’s crazy. Ain’t no way.”

I nod, grinning. “Got it for her last Valentine’s Day.”

Kayla wipes a fake tear. “This is beautiful. True love.”

I shake my head, still smiling as we move on to the next topic.

—

By the time we wrap up the episode, Paige is still dead asleep.

Kayla stretches, cracking her knuckles. “Alright, that’s a wrap. Great episode, and we got bonus content of you being the human equivalent of a teddy bear.”

I snort. “Glad I could provide entertainment.”

Kayla stands, gathering her stuff. “I gotta bounce, but good luck getting your girl off you.” She nudges Paige’s leg. “Yo, Bueckers, you alive?”

Paige groans, barely lifting her head. “Barely.”

Kayla smirks. “Your girl’s free now. You gonna let her move?”

Paige ignores her, instead snuggling back into me, her voice muffled against my hoodie. “No.”

Kayla cackles. “Yeah, I’m outta here.”

She gives me a knowing look before heading for the door. “Text me when you finally escape.”

I roll my eyes. “Bye, Kayla.”

Once she’s gone, I glance down at Paige, brushing a few stray locs out of her face. “You good, sleepyhead?”

Paige hums. “Better now.”

I smile. “You slept through my whole podcast, you know.”

She grins sleepily, eyes still closed. “Best nap I’ve ever had.”

I sigh, shaking my head. “You’re so spoiled.”

She finally cracks one eye open, looking up at me with that soft, lazy smile of hers. “By you? Absolutely.”

I can’t even argue with that. Instead, I kiss her forehead, letting her sink back into me.

She’s gonna be wide awake later, and I should make her get up soon.

But for now?

I let her stay exactly where she is.

---

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

                 -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[livewiregoth]

I dunno why I find it funny that Constantine manages to get Danny to be like "Ok so I'm a bogus exorcist but I'm not bogus at doing my job"

Be kind of funny if after all this time eventually working with Danny, trying to get him to do shit properly, Danny helping as a repairman, Constantine thinking this guy is a normal guy with suspiciously strong abilities is the King of the Infinity Realm/the Ghost King. Like this guy that he maybe sees as a friend at times despite being annoyed of him that he has been convinced is a normal guy that's parents led to him learning to be a repairman & some how can be an exorcist even when half assing shit(well I guess fully messing it up) is the fucking king of the ghosts. Probably makes sense in some way due to the times they had to deal with some really bad demons like the time that made him finally confront Danny but still it's something he wouldn't have expected.

Even funnier(to me) is how he possibly finds out. Maybe there's a time were he just decides to ask the ghosts why Danny's power makes them leave despite not doing the exorcist shit right. Some are likely scared of his energy/aura(a part of me imagines this for ghosts that don't know yet/are newer), some say cryptic shit & some eventually finally admit who Danny is. Or maybe another way Constantine could find out would be on occasion the ghosts comment on Danny that make the blond realize there's more to his now coworker than he thought, probably brushes it off since he knows Danny can be a bit weird & as far as he knows oblivious even if strong but then someone eventually spills what's going on or says enough to figure it out.

Or some other thing leads to learning Danny is the ghost king, who knows.

I dunno I just think it'd be funny if Constantine thanks to something going on eventually learns the guy that went from some stupid bogus exorcist he hired as a joke that was good at his job to someone he sees as a coworker is actually the ghost king trying to make a living in the world of the living

Probably has some feelings about this(this guy he kind of grew close to lied(why are you surprised you knew he lied about the bogus shit), why is he going around as a human, why is trying to make a living when he's a king with duties in the Infinity Realm) but it's going to be interesting when he finally thinks things over, puts his thoughts together & what he does with this info afterwords.

Does he confront Danny or for once just lets things be? Maybe he lets whatever take its course & Danny eventually has a moment were he has to confess for some reason. There's a lot of scenarios that could happen, the options are infinite.

I'm likely thinking too much again

Another dpxdc prompt (sorry it’s been so long)

So Danny, now grown up and the ghost king, is looking for a job. However bc of his responsibilities as king a normal job won’t do. He would need to be able to make his own hours and such. He tried to be a freelance repair/electrical guy (thx mum and dad for those skills) but it never made that much money.

Then one day, prompted by a joke comment from Tucker about going back to ghost fights, he has a great idea!!

That’s how ‘Spook exterminator’ is born!! (He wanted to call it ghost busters but that was trademarked)

He essentially becomes an exorcist for higher and is very good at it. See what he didn’t know before this is that the ghost his use to, realm ghost, are actually the strongest type of ghost and as the king of them he is the strongest of them. This essentially means he has a ‘top predator’ vibe that sends most non realm ghost running before he even steps into the building. All he has to do then is call upon his inter theatre kid and put on a good show before leaving with a full wallet.

It’s not like he’s scamming them or anything. He is getting rid of the ghost! He just likes putting a little flare to it! Plus it gives him better tips.

Anyway cutting over to Constantine who, drunk out of his mind, thinks it would be hilarious to higher some bogus exorcist he saw a flier for and take them to the most haunted house he knowns just to see what happens.

He was definitely not expecting every ghost to hightail it out of there before the guy even step foot in the door. For a second he thought that maybe he was wrong about the guy being bogus and that maybe he was actually an very skilled exorcist but then he proceeded to do the most fake ritual he had ever fucking seen. The guy couldn’t even speak Latin!!

Needless to say John was very confused

[gloomwitchwrites]

Hiiiiii, stumbled across your blog when trying to find COD fics to gush over and yours are SO FUCKIN GOOD. I love how you write the TF 141 guys!!

My personal fave is Simon and I thought the SFW ABC’s HC were so cute! I’m wondering if you’d be interested in writing a NSFW ABS’s for him as well!

Don’t rush it or feel pressured to do it tho. Thank you pookie ❤️

Oh my goodness! I remember the SFW Alphabet I did for Simon. That was forever ago, back when I first broke 1k followers. Compare that to now with over 6k and if feels like ancient history.

I am more than happy to do a NSFW Alphabet for Simon!

Word Count: 1.1k

NSFW Alphabet Template

A = Aftercare

Aftercare all depends on the relationship. If it’s a quick fuck or a casual thing, Ghost isn’t really all that interested in providing aftercare. He might allow a brief cuddle, or some stiff conversation, but he’s more interested in getting his dick wet. But if Ghost is in a steady, serious relationship, then aftercare is important to him. Not that he knows what he’s doing. Aftercare is not his jam, but if he cares about you, he will make sure you have it.

B = Body part

Ghost loves his hands. He loves that he can kill with them yet bring pleasure as well.

C = Cum

Ghost has a terrible breeding kink. Watching his cum ooze out of his partner makes him fucking feral. Not only does the sight of it turn him on, but he’ll verbalize how good his cum looks dripping out of you.

D = Dirty secret

During his final year of secondary school, Simon got into some serious trouble, and nearly ended up expelled. It wasn’t his fault though, and he felt scorned. So, to retaliate, he fucked the principal’s daughter (a classmate of Simon’s) on the man’s desk. Took her virginity while the principal was in a meeting and the two of them should have been in class.

E = Experience

Ghost is experienced with sex but not experienced with love. He can fuck you all goddamn day and turn your limbs to jelly. But the intimacy part is difficult for him.

F = Favorite position

Face down, ass up. Not him, of course, but his partner. For Ghost, it’s dominating and rough and fulfills every primal urge he has.

G = Goofy

More serious than goofy in the moment. Doesn’t mean that Ghost lacks a sense of humor. The guy can crack a joke, but if he is a bit silly in bed, the humor is dry and might go over your head. Ghost prefers to be completely invested in the moment, and his level of silliness isn’t something he’s thinking about. Now, if something happens during the act that’s actually funny, he will laugh and won’t shame himself or you for it.

H = Hair

Doesn’t care about hair but hygiene. Body hair doesn’t scare him nor does a decent bush. Didn’t shave your legs/armpit/bikini line/face/etc.? Ghost could give a shit. If you’re willing and consenting, and he’s willing and consenting, body hair doesn’t even factor into it.

I = Intimacy

Ghost is terrible at intimacy. Sorry y’all, but he is. Doesn’t matter if it’s a quick fuck or a committed relationship. This man will literally approach you and be like “you want to fuck?” and expect a very clear yes or no answer to the question. But hey, at least he’s clear when it comes to communication.

J = Jack off

Ghost is a rigorous masturbator. The every day kind of masturbator. While he prefers his privacy, nothing is sexier to him than when you’ve been a bad boy/girl/one and Ghost decides what you need is a bit of punishment. He’ll restrain you and make you watch as he jerks off, giving himself pleasure while giving you nothing. Not until you’re a begging, whimpering mess.

K = Kink

Breeding, primal, semi-public, CNC, breath play, BDSM

L = Location

Cramped, enclosed spaces. In the car, against a wall, on the sofa, in the shower. Basically, anywhere where Ghost can feel big. He enjoys having a sense of largeness about him, that he’s trapping you under him. That you cannot escape him when he’s fucking you.

M = Motivation

This man is constantly down to fuck. Sure, talking dirty is fun, but what he really wants is clear communication first. Tell him you want to fuck him, and tell him plainly, and then the two of you can do whatever. A clear, “fuck me, Simon” sets him OFF.

N = No

Simon leans heavy on consent. His hard “no” is no clear “yes.” If you cannot communicate that you clearly want him, he’s immediately turned off. That also includes how he sets up a CNC with you.

O = Oral

Gives and receives equally. He doesn’t necessarily prefer one over the other. But when he does receive, he is vocal. Ghost wants you to know that he appreciates you going down on him, but also how much he enjoys it. When it comes to giving, Ghost is sloppy…but in a good way.

P = Pace

Ghost mixes it up depending on position. If he’s looking to draw it out, he’s going to go slow just because he wants to watch you squirm and wiggle. But otherwise, he’s all rough edges, wants to hold you down and fuck you until you’re both senseless and dazed. Even in his roughness, he won’t hurt you, but he might leave some marks behind.

Q = Quickie

Loves a good quickie. Just say the word and Ghost will bend you over or put you on top of the nearest surface and go for it.

R = Risk

As long as Ghost has your enthusiastic consent, he’s down for anything. If there is anything new you want to try, he’s open to do it, but is also good about setting boundaries especially if this new thing might possibly harm you or himself. A risk taker, but understands that the risks might outweigh the benefits.

S = Stamina

This man has the stamina of a fucking horse. He can go for miles if he paces himself. Ghost isn’t the kind of guy to tap out after one round. Sure, he might need a few minutes to breathe, but he’ll be ready to go against shortly after.

T = Toys

While he doesn’t personally own a plethora of toys, Ghost isn’t afraid of using them. His favorite ones are the kinds that vibrate…especially if he can use them on you and have complete authority over the controls. Expect to be edged and have your orgasm denied constantly.

U = Unfair

Ghost isn’t a tease unless he thinks you’ve earned it as a punishment.

V = Volume

Ghost is vocal but he’s not loud about it. If he’s going to drop praises, he’s going to say it like he’s passing on a secret. You don’t find this man yelling his pleasure to the ceiling. He’s all soft grunts and groans. But you? You can be as vocal and loud as you need to be.

W = Wild card

Ghost is a visual creature. He enjoys simply watching you. Watching you get dressed and undressed. Watching you shower. Watching you get ready for bed or ready for the day. He loves looking at you wearing something sexy or nothing at all. He stares.

X = X-ray

Under those clothes, Ghost has a decent bush. Keeps it lightly trimmed but a bit wild. Absolutely a good mix of length and girth. Just above average size. He fits…snuggly.

Y = Yearning

When it comes to a committed relationship, Ghost yearns for you all the time. He is always ready, and always eager if you are. He thinks about you constantly.

Z = Zzz

If it’s just casual sex, Ghost is falling asleep immediately. The man is a rock. Lights out. But if this is a committed relationship, Ghost will stay awake long enough to get you the aftercare you deserve before promptly passing the fuck out. Sorry, but he snores.

main masterlist

[thebeast-dennis-etcetera]

First Impressions

Based on this requested prompt: Reader is friends with/related to Rossi in some way (niece/neighbor) and goes to visit Rossi at his house after he recently got in injured etc in the field. Rossi is looking after Jack for Hotch when he suddenly realizes something about the case so leaves Jack with reader etc. Jack finds out that reader teaches ASL for a living and Jack asks for her to teach him something and she asks what he wants to learn and it's along the lines of "you are my superhero dad, I love you". Aaron's reaction to meeting reader, having been ready to be angry or something bad to have happened but instantly liking and being attracted to her and his reaction to Jack signing to him.

Note: Loved everything about this request by the way. 🥰🥰

"Knock knock uncle!" you announced boisterously as you unlocked and opened the front door to your favorite relative's house. Him being your only uncle had nothing to do with that of course, you only liked him for his funny wit and cringy dad jokes.

"In here Gioia Mia!" his voice replied from the kitchen. Once you rounded the turn, you spotted him, dressed in a cooking apron, injured arm in a sling, trying to open a jar of tomatoes.

"Zio, you're gonna either drop the jar or hurt your arm again by doing that, let me help."

It wasn't until you went over to take the jar from him that you noticed a little boy no older than 6 sitting at the kitchen island, drawing on some scratch paper. You remembered your uncle occasionally mentioning watching his boss' kid from time to time but never actually got to meet him.

Smiling, you gave him a little wave when he looked up at you. "Hey, what's your name?"

"Jack," was all he said. He was polite but clearly shy. After opening the jar and handing it back to your uncle, you took a peek at what he was drawing.

"My name's Y/N. Rossi is my uncle. Whatchya drawing?"

Pulling his marker away, he slid the paper for you to see. "Superman."

You were honestly impressed with his artistic ability. From the flowing cape Superman wore to the big cartoon like letters that spelt out HERO he included, you knew he must be a very smart boy.

"Oh wow, that looks so good. I actually really like Batman," you told him, trying to relate.

"Batman is cool too." He didn't look you in the eyes when he said it, but there was a hint of a smile on his face as he went back to drawing. Turning your attention to your uncle, you watched him walking back and forth from the stove to the pantry, grabbing different spices and ingredients for whatever it was he was making. All while checking his phone every 2 seconds.

"Got a hot date?" you teased, taking a plum from the little fruit basket on the counter.

"Ha ha. No, I'm actually waiting for some very important details to a case the team is working on."

You squinted your eyes in suspicion, which he caught onto and huffed. "I'm not doing any strenuous activity fragolina, I'm just helping out where I can. I staying out of the field, I promise."

"Yeah, and you opening jars and cheffing it up in the kitchen like a madman isn't strenuous?"

He made at you to pass him the salt by your hand, which you handed over. "Not when you compare it to breaking down doors and arresting criminals."

You couldn't help but laugh a little at his dramatic comparison. "Yeah, ok Zio. When's the last time you broke down a door? Isn't that the job for that Morgan guy you talk about?"

"Yeah. Well who do you think tells him to break the door down? Me."

He taste tested what you assumed was sauce he was making before adding a heaping load of garlic powder to it. You decided to not to bust his chops anymore and took a seat next to Jack.

"May I borrow a marker?"

He grabbed the pack of colorful tools and placed them in between the two of you before also handing you a proper piece of paper instead of the bill envelope you were planning on doodling on. Your heart melted at his caring act. The two of you scribbled together as you made small talk with your uncle before his phone rang. As he talked with the person on the other line, you noticed a shift in his disposition.

"Are you sure? No, don't worry about it, I'll head over there myself."

Ending the call, he looked around the room as if to gather his bearing and go over a plan in his head before speaking.

"Hey fragolina. I need to leave real quick to just check on something super imperative to the case. Anyway you can watch my buddy here for a little bit? I'll be back within a half an hour."

You glanced over at Jack who was looking at the both of you, a confused look on his face. You tried sounding as least bit intimidating as possible. "Yeah of course. Only if it's ok with you Jack. I know we just met."

"Jack, you can trust her, she's my closest friend. And I'll be back quickly," your uncle added while turning off the stove and removing his apron.

"Sure," was his short reply. It was a reply you could tell he wasn't completely sure about but said it to be polite, knowing his friend needed a favor. You gave him a smile and handed over the purple marker for him to finish coloring in his planet.

"Alright. I'll be right back. Y/N, you have my number, call me if you need anything."

"Sure thing Zio."

Walking around, he gave you a kiss on the head and an affectionate rub on the head to Jack before grabbing his keys and leaving.

The room was quite for a second as it settled in that the two of you were alone but continued drawing, not too bothered by the silence. When you absentmindedly signed for the color blue, he gave you a look of bemusement.

"What was that?" he asked, looking at your hands. Then it hit you that you had signed to a 6 year old boy who was still learning English vocab, let alone ASL.

"Sorry, it's a habit I have sometimes. I teach sign language for my job and when it gets quiet, I sometimes sign instead of talk."

"You know sign language?"

He asked the question with enthusiasm which surprised you. "I do. Do you know how?"

He shook his head. "No, but there's a kid at school that does. It looks cool."

You smiled at his answer, happy that he didn't think it was weird. Most 6 year olds wouldn't be so interested in the matter.

"Would you like me to teach you something? Anything you want."

He nodded excitedly and then took a second to think about it before speaking. "Can you teach me to say, you're my superhero dad, I love you?"

You could've cried right then and there if it wouldn't have made you look like a crazy person. How sweet this little guy was that he thought of his father instead of some silly inappropriate phrase any other boy would have asked for.

"Of course I can!"

So for the next 15 minutes or so, you two sat there and went over the motions, him mirroring you as well as he could which was quite well if you were being honest. It had taken way longer for some of your students to learn one word, let alone a whole phrase like Jack was doing.

"Ok, now I'm not gonna show you this time. You show me," you instructed, having all the faith in him. Slowly, he began signing each word slowly, focusing hard on what motion came after the next, looking down at his hands, practically getting it completely correct by the end of it.

"That was so good Jack! Wow, I'm so impressed. You are so so smart."

He beamed at your compliment, meeting you halfway for a high five. You both ended up moving into the living room and you watched one of his favorite cartoons. Wanting him to be more comfortable with you, you made sure to ask a bunch of questions about the show, loving how his personality was starting to come out the more he talked.

It wasn't much longer that you heard the front door open and multiple voices ring through. One particular voice that you didn't recognize, called Jack's name.

"Dad!" Jack hopped off the couch so quickly, Flash would've been proud and ran over into the arms of who you assumed was his father.

"Hey buddy," his dad greeting, looking over at you with a neutral expression. He was dressed in a full suit that fit him quite well and sported an expensive looking watch. You stood up from your spot on the couch and walked over, feeling a bit nervous at his intense vibe.

"See Aaron, I told you everything was fine," your uncle spoke, giving you a comforting wink. Wanting to be as polite as possible to your uncle's boss, you extended your hand out with a genuine smile.

"Hi, I'm Y/N, Rossi's niece. Everything's been good here, Jack is such a great kid."

He returned the handshake with a professional smile, taking a second to look at you, no doubt profiling you entirely, deeming whether or not you were a right choice to watch his son.

"Aaron Hotchner. Thank you, he is great. What did you guys get up to while we were gone?"

Thankfully, Jack ended up answering for you, saving you from falling over your words while trying not to crumble under his dad's strong gaze.

"She taught me sign language dad!"

He looked down at his son, a look of surprise on his face.

"Here, let me show you."

Everyone watched as Jack began signing to his dad, that same adorable concentrated look on his face. By the end of it, his dad was actually grinning. Teeth and all.

"It means, you're my superhero dad, I love you," Jack explained.

His dad's whole demeanor changed, becoming a whole lot softer and inviting as he bent down to hug his son. It took everything in you not to tear up at the loving interaction.

"That was awesome buddy, I love you too."

You caught a look from his dad, this time a bit more favorable, you now assuming he had made the decision that you were alright. Afterwards, Jack's dad told him to gather his things so they could leave as your uncle went into the kitchen to start the oven, leaving you and Mr. Hotchner alone together.

"I apologize if I seemed a little rude earlier. I'm just very protective of Jack," he explained.

You smiled and waved him off, not admitting that he did have shaking in your boots a little at first. "Oh, you weren't rude. I totally get it, he's your boy. I'd be the same way if he was my kid."

The minute that passed by as you two waited for Jack to return, you could feeling him looking at you again. This time you weren't sure if he was still sizing you up or what but it didn't prevent the raise in blood pressure and slight tinge of pink in your cheeks.

Soon after, Jack came running back, his jacket put on half hazardly and his superman drawing in hand.

"Here. I want you to have it," he told you, handing over the piece of paper. You noticed that he had signed his full name on the bottom corner with a little smiley face. It was definitely the best gift you had gotten in a while.

"Thank you so much Jack. I will put this up in my class so all my students can see how talented my new friend is."

He just smiled in return, taking his dad's hand in his. With his available hand, Mr. Hotchner offered another handshake accompanied with a small friendly smile.

"It was good meeting you. I'm sure this won't be the only time we meet."

You knew he meant it as a cordial statement but you couldn't help but let your girly imagination run wild. I mean the man was tall, professionally accomplished, and downright handsome. Every woman's dream.

"I hope not Mr. Hotchner. It was nice meeting you and spending time with Jack."

"Please. Call me Aaron."

You could've screamed. But instead, you held it together, just smiled and watched them leave, yelling a goodbye to your uncle before closing the door behind them.

You let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding and fanned your face.

"Setting up playdates already?" you heard your uncle tease from the kitchen entryway. Being a profiler himself and you a terrible keeper of emotion, he knew what was going through your mind.

"Not another word Zio."

He laughed and threw an extra kitchen apron at you. "C'mon. Help me with the zucchini, lovebird."

[lostinlovingrevery]

Old man Logan with reader who is lonely, has no friends but is still a ray of sunshine with him, always trying to impress him and give him pretty gifts and getting all dolled up for him. She is sad inside though, apart from being his boyfriend, he is her only friend

My Ray Of Sunshine (Why Are You So Sad?)

Old Man Logan X F! Reader

A/N: I hope this is okay! Started angsty, but I wanted it to be happy for both reader and Logan in the end. Loneliness is an awful feeling (smth I'm all too familiar with) If anyone ever needs to talk, my inbox is always open!! I had a little trouble figuring out where to go with this, so I hope this satisfies you!

Plot: You and Logan have been dating for some time, but you still feel the intense loneliness that wraps it's arms around you, him being the only one in your life - and you feel like he's not honest with you.

Warnings: Angsty, slight depression, mention of loneliness, happy endings

Word Count: 2021

"Hi Lo," You cooed as you answered the phone, a smile stretching across your face.

"Hey sunshine," You heard his gruff voice on the other line, giving your heart a flutter. You always loved the sound of his voice, no matter how gruff and cranky he could sound - he never takes it out on you though.

"You still coming over tonight?" You ask as you walk across the room, your fingers tapping along the small box that sat on your desk. A present you decided to get Logan, a nice little silver watch he can wear. There was a moment of silence, "Lo?"

A small sigh,

"Sorry. I can't. I have to work."

Your face fell, but you took a deep breath. "Oh, that's alright!" You say, putting on your best happy-go-lucky voice. You didn't want him to feel bad, just by the tone of his voice you could tell he was having a bad day. "We'll plan for another night baby. You get a request?"

"Yeah, Bachelors party." He says. "Big payout."

"Oooh....Nice paycheck then huh? You can make it up to me later by taking me out somewhere nice then." You tease. You couldn't see the fond smile on his face, but you could picture it.

"Yeah. We'll plan on it. Promise." He says. You chewed on your lip, as you felt that swell of emptiness build up inside you.

Another night alone.

"Sunshine?"

"Huh?" You snapped out of your thoughts. "Sorry, sorry-" You laughed. "Zoned out again. What?"

"I gotta go, got a job. I'll call you later, or in the morning. That alright?"

"Yes, of course." You smiled. "Be safe, okay tough guy?"

You heard a warm chuckle, which made you relax. "Yeah, I will. See you doll."

You heard the phone beep and sighed. Alright.

You and Logan had been dating for a little bit. Meeting in a small little diner that you waitress at. It started as harmless flirting, but then you both managed to find yourself able to talk to each other so easily. Logan listened to you, seemed so openly accepting of you. How could you not be drawn to him?

You thought yourself a little ridiculous for gaining a crush on an older man like Logan, but then his weathered charm got to you - and you just couldn't help it. You'd slip him extra treats on the down-low, not charging him for them. An extra cup of coffee, a slice of apple pie, once you even managed to slip him a stack of pancakes. He'd smile at you and your antics as you slide the plate across the counter and give him a wink- his smile being something tired yet warm that made your knees weak and butterflies shoot through you.

You put more effort into your appearance, especially when you knew he was going to be there. Dolling yourself up - not your usual thing to do but when you got a man like Logan coming around...Well, it's hard not to want to look pretty for him.

It was you that finally convinced him to go on a date with you, and you surprised him by taking him to a gorgeous museum the next city over. You had wondered initially if he scoff at that- him being the gruff and older man he is, but he seemed to really enjoy it. He listened to you ramble on and on about Vincent Van Gogh, one of your favorite painters as you listed everything you knew about him, explaining the misconceptions about him as a painter and a person.

You took the charge of the relationship that formed between you. You planned dates, which seemed to make Logan happy- your infectious happiness- not rubbing off on him but more giving him some much needed relief in what you must believe is a very stressful life for him. He deemed you his sunshine, a pet-name you wore with pride.

You believe it's stressful- or rather assume. He never really told you about his personal life. You know he was a limo driver, you know he lived on the outskirts of town - you never been where he lived. He mentioned something about taking care of his father. He's shared a few stories- always seemingly missing information in them like he was purposely leaving out parts of them.

It made it worse by the fact that he really is the only person in your life right now. You adored Logan and did everything you could to make him happy because he was the only one to give your love to. You spend the time you can together, when he visits your work, or when he comes and stays with you for the night. He's busy though, so he's not really there as often as you wish he was.

Actually, you probably love him. You haven't told him that though. You always feel though that he's hiding something from you. It's disheartening really, he'll listen to you, he's heard your secrets but you never hear his. He refuses to bring you to his place, making some excuse that yours was nicer and maybe it was but you didn't care about that. It created a space between you, something you're not sure if Logan recognizes himself.

You moved to change out of the pretty yellow dress you had on to see Logan, wiping your makeup off and pulling your hair into a messy bun as you prepared to spiral into a night of anxiety, depression, and wine.

You settled on your couch, flipping the tv on, surfing through channel after channel. The night got darker and you got more and more tired. The shadows of your living room, seemingly your only company for tonight, closing in on you as the tv flickered over your curled up form.

Your eyelids grew heavy, as your felt the sinking feeling of your heart, reminding you that you were by yourself again. Inevitably wondering when will Logan leave?

Heavy knocks on your door startled you, as you sat up on the couch and confusion stretched across your face. Worry settled in you, as you had to wonder what shifty characters were knocking on your door at night?

You stood up and crossed the apartment, peeking through the peephole of your door, you're shocked to find Logan standing there. You gasped, stepping back to unlock your door and open it.

"Logan?"

"Hi sunshine." He greeted you, and smiled warmly, his eyes crinkling in the corners as his smile lines became more prominent. He held a bouquet of sunflowers in one hand.

"What are you...What are you doing here?"

"I missed ya." He says gently, a lingering gruff in his voice. "Can I come in?"

You bit your lip, and nodded. Still, your lingering feelings stuck in the back of your head. Stepping back, you forced a smile up at him as he stepped inside, holding the bouquet up.

"I figured you'd like them because...You know. That painter who- Are you okay?" He stopped, squinting at you, as he watched your eyes met with the bouquet, and tears filled your eyes. "Hey, hey sunshine, what's wrong?" He asks softly, bringing his hand up to your chin, tipping it upwards to look up at him. You bit your lip and shook your head.

"Sorry-" You say pulling away from him, wiping your eyes. "I'm just happy to see you..." You lied through your teeth. His eyes, he looked tired.

"Don't know about that sweetheart..." He mutters, examining your expression. "What is it? The flowers? You hate em?"

"No." You let out a small laugh, crossing your arms. He turned to shut the door behind him, locking it before setting the flowers on a nearby table, his hands coming to rest on your arms.

"Well?" He looks down at you, his face serious, but his eyes held concern. "You don't need to pretend with me darling."

You were caught off guard by him, showing up suddenly when you felt your worst. Your instinct screamed at you to push him away, to pretend that it was all okay. You didn't want to bring him down. Your anxiety peeked at the idea that he may be disappointed by this version of yourself, that he would see the lonely person you are, and leave because he wouldn't want to deal with you.

But they way he looked at you, you couldn't help it as the dam broke, and he pulled you tight to his chest, holding you as you cried.

"I'm sorry doll. I didn't mean to hurt you by canceling." He says softly, his hand petting your hair gently.

"No..No, it's not you." You sniffled, stepping away for a moment. "I...I just feel so alone sometimes. I like you a lot Lo, I love us spending time together but when you're not around I'm just by myself and it...It's just terrible."

Logan brows creased, as he brought a hand to cup your cheek. "I didn't know." He says gently. You let out a shaky sigh and looked back up at him.

"You're the only person in my life." You continue. "I don't feel like I don't completely know you though. Not like how you know me. I feel like you're keeping things from me or that you're...Only sticking around temporarily."

"That's not true." He says quickly, and firmly. "I care about you sunshine." His thumb wiped away a tear. "A lot. More than I have a right too. You're....Everything sweetheart. I count myself a damn lucky guy that I met you, that you let me be apart of your life. "

You swallowed and nodded, looking away as you let out a small sigh. You both stood there in silence.

"I..." He started. "I don't know how to stop you from feeling alone but...I get it. You're right. I haven't told you the whole truth."

He grabbed your hand, leading you over to the couch, as you both sat down.

"You ready for this?" He asks.

~~~~~~~~

You stood outside the hot desert sun, as you look around the barren horizon. Logan let out a small cough, as he puffed on the cigar that he was smoking.

"It's quiet." You say.

"Yeah." He nods, his eyes trailing over you as he tried to read your body language.

After an intense conversation last night, you both passed out on your couch. When you woke up in the morning, Logan had you get dressed, and brought you to his...well, where he lives. Can't really call it a home.

That was you.

He felt terrible when you admitted to him everything you struggled with. He adored the way you always seemed to be optimistic, the way you got yourself all dolled up for him, the way you tried to spoil him and every way possible. That's not why he liked you though. He liked your character, he liked the person you are. Not just for what you do for him. You were a fresh breath of air for him. His sunshine.

He wished you see yourself the way he does. You're always encouraging him, to look at himself and see himself as a good man. He didn't know how long he got but he'll spend every second with you to prove you are the most wonderful and loveable person.

You looked at him and smiled. The sunlight gleamed off his new watch that you gifted him. He finished the cigar, flicking it to the ground and stomping it out with the heel of his shoe, before putting an arm around your shoulders.

"You ready to meet the old man?"

"Uh Lo, you're right here." You tease, wrapping your arm around his waist. He chuckled warmly.

"Real cute." He mutters shaking his head, as he led you to the decrepit water tower. He went to the door, and slid it open, a harsh grunt escaping him as it rolled open, he stood to the side and waited as you walked in.

Inside you saw two men. One, sitting in a chair reading a comic book, looking up at you. He had white skin, and yellow eyes. That one must be Caliban.

"Hello dear-" The other man greets. An older gentleman, lying in a bed with a warm smile. You smiled back as he reached his hand out to you, and walked over and took it. "I've heard so much about you from Logan. It's nice to finally meet you. Tell me...Which of Van Goghs paintings is your favorite?"

[yurinaa-world]

Can we get another part of body swap? This time with Dan Heng, Boothill, Aventurine and Jiaoqiu

2#—"𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝑜𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒾𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝑜𝒹𝓎?!"

💫𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: Dan Heng, Boothill, Aventurine & Jiaoqiu x Gender-Neutral reader

💫𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: Body Swap?!

💫𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Fluff, & Spelling Mistakes

💫Part one: 💫"𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝑜𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒾𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝑜𝒹𝓎?!" (with Sampo, Jing Yuan, Ratio & Gepard)

💫𝒟𝒶𝓃 𝐻𝑒𝓃𝑔 "𝐼𝓂𝒷𝒾𝒷𝒾𝓉𝑜𝓇 𝐿𝓊𝓃𝒶𝑒"

“Why are getting so close?!”

If anyone saw the two of you like this, you would think Dan Heng was a gentleman on the outside (of course he always is) and on the inside, he’s so handsy, it looked like was about to eat you alive—your chest against his own

Dan Heng’s voice—your voice—comes out in a startled yelp, eyes widening as you lean in, crowding into his space. If anyone saw the two of you like this, they’d think Dan Heng was the type to pin people against the wall—all tall. But in reality, you are the one doing it, under the idea that your idea of trying to “help”

“Come on, that’s how they do it in shows and books, they switch back after a kiss,” Whatever you rambling on about makes him question if you're even taking this seriously!? 

“One tiny kiss? It might do something.” 

How can you be so cheeky? You make his heart race even in your body, just the way you talk makes you very different from him. 

“You’re insane,” he mutters, his voice—your voice—tinged with disbelief.

But even as he says it, his eyes linger on you, watching as you get even closer, ignoring all the space between you. His breath comes a little quicker, the proximity messing with his focus. Why does it feel so… different with you in his body? Why is it that the moment your eyes meet, his heart starts to race, like a traitor?

“I’m serious,” you press, your voice playful, but there’s something daring in it, too. “You never know. One kiss might just do the trick.”

You lean in, your lips brushing against his for just a second. The moment it happens, everything goes still. He pulls back, eyes wide, his breath shaky.

“That didn’t do anything."

💫𝐵𝑜𝑜𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓁𝓁 "𝑀𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒢𝒶𝓁𝒶𝓍𝓎 𝑅𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓇𝓈"

He loves your body so much, so warm and fuzzy, like the feeling of a blanket coming out from a dryer and wrapping yourself in its warmth. He absolutely loved the feeling. 

(You weren’t so bad off as well, even though you were wearing clothes that he would never wear in his own body, finding his original outfit too much for you.)

He wants to feel you in your body, wrapping his—your—arms around your waist, the cold metallic making him shiver. Was his body really that cold? Well, if he keeps his body against yours long enough, the body heat transfers to the metal.

He hums in satisfaction, pressing himself—yourself—closer, soaking in every bit of warmth that seeps into his usually frigid body. The contrast is startling, the way the heat lingers against the metal.

“…so warm," he murmurs, voice hushed, like he's afraid acknowledging it too much will make it disappear—even though the only warmth is coming from his own body onto the metal if yours. His fingers trail absentmindedly over your arms, your waist, feeling the way your body moves with each breath. 

 He never realized just how much sensation his body lacked until now. The coldness he had grown so used to, his face being the only thing he could actually (sometimes) feel.

"...So this is what it’s like," he breathes, barely audible. A strange, wistful longing settles in his voice, something he doesn’t fully understand himself. 

He misses being human.

💫𝒜𝓋𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓊𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑒 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝑒𝓃𝒾𝑜𝓇 𝑀𝒶𝓃𝒶𝑔𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝐼𝒫𝒞 𝒮𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓉𝑒𝑔𝒾𝒸 𝐼𝓃𝓋𝑒𝓈𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒟𝑒𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉"

Why are we here?! Seriously! What are you thinking?!” 

He’s always the one bringing you to places like this, but now that you’ve switched bodies, it’s hard to ignore the looks you’re getting. You face being the one thats winning, the one on a hot streak, while you just sit there, looking nervous and out of place. 

“You’re making it way too obvious, enjoy yourself, it’s fun robbing all these fools blind.” Aventurine smiled gleefully while raking around a basket of chips and throwing them on the table. 

“Really? I rather just sit and have my fun over here.” you see him looking to the side—probably another game catching his interest, which inevitably leads him to join in to have his share of fun. Which was not what got him so focused on, you before grinning at you—it was a smile of pure mischief on his lips—you got a front-row seat of that look while immediately jumped on top of your lap.

You freeze, the weight of his sudden move pressing down on you. His grin widens as he settles, his hands resting on your shoulders, fingers casually brushing your neck.

“What are you doing!?”

“Those girls were staring at you, I couldn’t help but get jealous.”

Ugh! Why does he have to act this in your body, like some needy lover who wants attention?

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you mutter under your breath, trying to push him off, but it’s like he’s made himself comfortable, leaning into you with that damn mischievous smile. “They like your face, not me.”

“Oh, they like this face, alright,” he says with a teasing chuckle, poking at your chest, “but they can’t have you, since we’re together.”

💫𝒥𝒾𝒶𝑜𝓆𝒾𝓊 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝓁𝑒𝓇 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒳𝒾𝒶𝓃𝓏𝒽𝑜𝓊 𝒴𝒶𝑜𝓆𝒾𝓃𝑔"

What an unusual expression, it doesn’t suit his face at all. The same goes for him in your body. From the outside, it looks funny—it’s like you two have changed places, which isn’t exactly wrong.

But right now, no one would tell it feels a bit weird! The orange colour tail doesn’t stop moving for a second, it makes you feel uncomfortable, and it always moves around, which somehow just leaves you restless the orange ears on the top of your head are like losing a tooth as a child—you can’t help but take notice and touch the ears that weight on your years.

Jiaoqiu on the other hand seems to fairing far better than you—honestly, without his tail and ears you thought he be worse off, but no, he seems to be enjoying himself in your body, mostly relishing in it.

You, on the other hand, have been groaning and complaining, while holding down the orange tail to stop it from moving, it made you extremely restless. He had soothed you somehow—you are in his body after, watching you in pain isn’t what he wants.

Which is how you wound up here, laying in your lap is his body—it’s weird yet desperation is how you got here—his hand lands on the top of your head, gently patting and running his hands through the long orange hair.

“You’re tense,” Jiaoqiu mutters, his tone somewhere between amused and exasperated.

“I wonder why,” you grumble, but the bite in your voice is weaker now. The twitching of your ears has lessened, and your tail no longer flicks about wildly like it has a mind of its own. You can still feel it, still notice every little shift and movement, but the overwhelming restlessness from before has dulled.

Jiaoqiu huffs a small laugh, continuing his slow, rhythmic petting. “See? Not so bad when you stop fighting it.”

It's stupid how you feel your face burn up a little, it’s so stupid and slightly embarrassing.

So stupid, that tail starts flailing around.

Which makes Jiaoqiu snicker, clearly noticing the way your tail betrays you. "Ah, there it is again," he teases, his fingers lazily brushing over your scalp.

"You sure you’re not enjoying this a little too much? I thought you were calming down, instead, I’ve got you all railed up."

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hello gatorbite, I really liked your imagines with Mark Grayson, could you do an imagine of Mark with a Male Reader who is a vampire?

Mark Grayson x vampire king male reader

Headcanons

Cooking my own headcanons for vampires, how else are they gonna go on cute dates on the beach as the sun goes down?? Ive been listening to abracadabra by Lady Gaga for days, its been keeping me sane.

Mark and the bad bitch he pulled by being a nerd. i had a lot of fun writing this, i would love to write more about these two, or more vampire reader,,,

You guys would first have met after he became a hero, sometime during season 2. Probably before he got Oliver but after his dad left the planet and Mark wanted to fix everything and started working with Cecil.

The GDA knew of your existence of course. You were the first ever vampire, created through horrible magic and rituals against your will. This meant you couldn’t die, even from the sun or a stake or silver.

Every other vampire someone would meet would come from you in some way. Or rather, they were bitten by someone who was bitten by someone, so on and so forth until it reached you, kinda like a disease. The further out you go, the wilder and more animalistic the vampires are.

The few vampires you have bitten and turned yourself are strong and can walk in sunlight, and have other otherworldly powers, but those they bite have weaker powers, etc etc. and all other vampires but you can die. As long as life and death exist, so will you.

How you guys meet can be a mixed bag, but the most plausible is that some rabid vampires have run wild somewhere, and Mark was sent to deal with them since his skin can’t be pierced by their fangs.

The vampires he encounters are naked, human-looking creatures with warped faces, a mouth full of sharp teeth, shark bat-like features and the like. The only thing human about them is their shape.

A nest of vampires has run wild, and as the so called “vampire king”, “vampire well” or even “first vampiric ancestor”, its your duty to take care of it when it gets out of hand.

At this point Mark isn’t at his strongest, so the nest of vampire spawn gain the upper hand. Even with super strength, its hard for Mark since he also doesn’t want to kill at this point, and these technically were humans once.

So, imagine Marks shock, as he’s being overpowered by hundreds of these creatures that are more instinct than sense, when these creatures are sliced in half and turn into dust.

As the vampire king you can teleport all over the planet, you could probably even warp other planets if you focused hard enough. You might have done that once or twice, leading to vampirism spreading to different parts of the universe… but nobody has to know that…

What you wear can be up for debate, do you wear something from the time you died? Something Victorian? Or modern? I can’t imagine you are too involved with the current fashion since time passes so fast for you, so maybe it’s a bit out of fashion. You still look great though.

Maybe it’s having been beaten so hard by the now dead spawn, or maybe it’s just your vampiric influence, but Mark finds himself blushing and breathing a little harder.

The first time you meet doesn’t lead to much other than you taking care of the spawn, apologizing to Mark for causing such a mess and telling him you will take more care of your offspring. Mark just kinda goes “yeah, okay, thanks man…” before passing out.

You end up teleporting mark back to the GDA, or wherever hes being brought, like to the new guardians or whatever. Because obviously none of their protection measures can keep you out. It’s only weaker vampires that need an invitation inside.

They are all pretty damn uncomfortable when you comment about how nice Marks blood smells, because being thousands of years old also means you don’t have any shame in stating the obvious.

You say hello to Immortal before leaving. Of course, you guys know each other, both being immortal and all that. You guys play cards at least once every ten years or so, sometimes more, sometimes less.

This is also why Immortal is the most chill about you showing up, coming and going as you please, and saying Mark smells delicious. You once said he smelled delicious too when you first met, the stronger the person the better their blood and all. Now you guys are friends though, in a way.

After that you guys meet every now and then, mainly because you take his interest and Immortals friendship as an invite to come and go as you please, like a big scary housecat dressed in black.

You also follow him around (stalk him pretty much), and maybe it’s just him secretly loving steamy vampire fanfiction, or some viltrumite instinct, but being hunted is exciting.

You guys finally starting to date would also happen at some random moment when you guys are alone. You would have known about Marks attraction from the very moment you met, but your cold unbeating heart had started warming up around him too.

All his rambling about heroes and fictional stories worked like a charm. The many many questions about vampires and pop culture was cute too. He couldn’t believe that the whole weak to garlic thing started as an inside joke amongst vampires and spread out, when it wasn’t even true.

Mark was positively shocked when the whole pop culture idea that being bitten felt good turned out to be true. Later you would explain it was all about intent and reception. If you wanted it to hurt and he feared you, then it would have hurt. But because he was a little freak who was really into it, then it brought pleasure.

Mark also never thought you would be able to bite through his skin, but you could. Only because of your whole, king of the vampires, first original vampire, deal. Any other vampire wouldn’t be able to bite through vultrumite skin.

Being able to rip through vultrumites will be useful later, and not needing to breathe and being able to fly as well. But that’s for later space adventures.

When the whole thing with Oliver happens, you are of course there to support Mark, but also his family. Cecil also knows not to fuck with you, because its all thanks to you that the dead don’t rise and come for him every single day.

This may mean it doesn’t end as badly as in season 3, or, Mark just has some more support, very powerful support that the GDA knows to fear. Because how is Cecil gonna manipulate the original manipulator? The one strong enough to bewitch the entire planet if he wanted to?

You also have a better time explaining morals and powers to Oliver, since you are still stronger than him at this point, so you can put him in his place when he needs it. Being nonhuman also helps a lot, since Oliver feels his power disconnects him from humanity.

This gives Mark some more room to find himself and settle, and yeah, I feel like him and his family end up moving into wherever you stay. Be it some massive gothic castle in Romania, or a Victorian mansion at the edge of a massive cliff in England, who knows.

Both because its safer, more comfortable, and they get to feel like they don’t always have to look over their shoulder.

You don’t survive the coffin allegations though, since you sleep in a grand one, and have at least 100 different coffins you switch between. Most were gifts from your spawn, or one or two from immortal as “congrats on living another hundred” gift. You gifted him weapons or houses in return.

Mark can’t sleep in the coffins with you, since he hates how claustrophobic it makes him. But he will sleep beside the coffin. You guys keep the lid pushed to the side enough for you to stick a hand out, so you guys can hold hands.

I feel like Oliver would thrive a lot under you and your spawns, since you keep your “children” in line. Being direct descendants of you means they are powerful enough to play and roughhouse with, but also help him train.

Mark trains with you instead, and it regularly ends up with him almost giggling and kicking his feet as you pin him down, barring his neck all “oh please, vampire king, please don’t bite me”.

It takes Debbie a while to settle in, but maybe she meets one of your spawn to gets on with well, or she doesn’t at all. Maybe she just takes the time to heal and find herself when she sees her sons are happy.

You end up getting the shovel talk from her though, which all your direct descendants peek around the corner of the doorway to watch. Somehow you look meek as she points a finger at you and tell you to treat her son right and with respect.

I haven’t read very far in the comics so I cant tell you what happens after this, but Mark will have you by his side when everything goes down, and that might help change it to a more positive outcome.

It might help to have a lover who isn’t held back by his humanity and morals. You are more than willing to turn entire planets into your mindless spawn if it means keeping your dear ones safe. It does lead to a horrible argument and Mark not talking to you for a while, but he forgives you at some point.

Reading his secret fanfic does help with that, even if it means you have to dress like a man from the current era, style your hair and stalk him when he sleeps (as if you don’t already do that).

Being a super ancient and rich vampire also means you can pile gifts on Mark, Oliver and Debbie. Mostly Mark, but you don’t want his kin to be left out. So, Mark gets to live out his nerdy dreams to the extreme.

You’ll remodel a whole part of your house for him if it comes down to it. Your direct spawn will coo at you becoming soft. You let them, for now, but you’ll get your revenge, especially seeing them all tied around the Grayson’s fingers too.

You are so used to dealing with the GDA that it also isn’t hard to keep them at bay, how are they gonna invade a place that’s existed longer than democracy? You will burn the whole place down if you have too. Anything for your nerdy little hero.

[jazzy96scorpio]

It's V-Day 🌼🌹 could you write Pedro x reader spending their first valentine's?

Will you be my Valentine?

Chapter 1 More Than Just Flowers

Description: Love blooms in the most unexpected places when a flower shop girl [You] and a Hollywood heartthrob find a connection that's more than just skin deep.

Pairing: You / Pedro Pascal

Warnings ⚠️: adult content, explicit content, angst and fluff, oral sex (m/f), sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, dirty talk, age gap, sugar daddy kink, SMUT.

Word count: 3,450

I was planning to write a fanfic with sugar daddy Pedro Pascal. So here is one with Valentine's Day. I hope so you are gonna like it. Write me your reviews❣️

You're mysterious, beautiful, a bit of shy, if you're honest with yourself. Fresh out of college, New York City is calling your name, a crazy mix of exciting and terrifying. Rent doesn't pay itself, though, so you've landed a gig at a flower shop. Not just any flower shop—this one's in the ritzy part of town, all fancy blooms and even fancier prices. It's a whole different world from your student days, but you're figuring it out. You're observant, you pick up on things others miss, and you can blend in or stand out as needed. Plus, you're learning the secret language of flowers. Each one has a meaning, a story. And you're becoming fluent.

One day, you notice him outside the shop.

Pedro Pascal. The Pedro Pascal.

Your heart does a little flutter-kick. He's even more captivating in person than on screen. Then soon after he enters the shop. Straight towards your counter.

"Good afternoon," he says, that warm, familiar voice sending a shiver down your spine.

"I need a bouquet of red roses."

"Of course," you reply, trying to sound professional, your strong composure kicking in. "For a special occasion?"

He gives a small, enigmatic smile. "Perhaps."

You get to work, selecting the most perfect, velvety roses. Your hands move deftly, arranging them into a lush, romantic bouquet. You add a touch of baby's breath and some elegant greenery. When you're finished, even you are impressed.

He watches you, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "That's…very beautiful," he murmurs, taking the bouquet. "Just like you."

Your breath hitches. "Thank you," you manage, your cheeks warming slightly.

He lingers for a moment, those intense eyes holding yours. "I'm Pedro," he says, extending a hand.

"I know," you reply, a small smile playing on your lips. "I'm [Y/N]."

"It's a pleasure, [Y/N]." He pauses, then adds, a touch of playful challenge in his voice,

"Perhaps I'll see you around."

And then, just like that, he leaves. Leaving you with a racing heart and the lingering scent of roses. What just happened? you wonder, your mind already replaying the encounter.

There was definitely something there, a spark… but was it just his natural charm, or something more? And what did he mean by "see you around"? Was he interested? Or just being polite? A little knot of nervous excitement tightens in your stomach. This could be interesting… or a complete disaster. Knowing your luck, probably a bit of both.

A delivery truck arrived soon after, packed to the brim with roses. "Need a hand?" you asked the driver, a young guy with a cheeky grin.

"If you're offering," he replied, giving you a once-over that made you roll your eyes internally. "A beautiful woman like you shouldn't be doing all this heavy lifting." He winked.

"Someone's gotta do it," you said, hoisting a box of Freedom roses. He chatted you up while you worked, the usual lines about how he'd love to take you out sometime.

He wasn't bad looking, but definitely not your type. You'd always been attracted to older men. Maybe it was the maturity, the confidence… something about the youthful energy of guys your own age just didn't do it for you. Which, you had to admit, was probably why you were still single. You'd never really been in love.

As you were carrying a particularly large box of long-stems, you glanced across the street.

And there he was. Pedro. Leaning against a sleek car, looking impossibly handsome.

Then, a woman appeared. She was stylish, laughing, and… they hugged. They kissed.

Shit. You thought. She's lucky. A pang of something you couldn't quite name went through you. I wish… you started to think, then cut yourself off. Ridiculous. You barely knew him, and that will never happen.

And then, he pulled out something from the car. The bouquet. The one you had made. He gave it to her. She beamed, clearly pleased. Of course she was.

You turned back to the truck, a little deflated. "Thanks for the help," you mumbled to the driver, who was still trying to get your number. "But I gotta get back inside."

You went back into the shop, the image of Pedro and the woman lingering in your mind. You had work to do.

💓

Closing up, mostly. The shop was quiet now, the day's rush over.It was almost the end of your shift. As you were tidying near the door, you spotted something on the floor. A wallet. You picked it up. It was leather, expensive-looking. You opened it. And there, staring back at you, was Pedro's ID.

"Oh god," you muttered, staring at Pedro's ID. You really didn't want to go through his wallet, but… what were you supposed to do? Damn it. How were you going to find him now? Calling the police meant paperwork, hassle… ugh. You ran a hand through your hair, frustrated. This whole day had taken a weird, unexpected turn.

Just then, you heard a knock on the door. Your heart leaped into your throat. Could it be…?

You took a deep breath and walked to the door, your mind racing. You flipped the sign to "Closed" just in case. When you opened it, there he was. Pedro. Standing there, looking slightly… panicked?

"Hi," he said, his voice a little strained. "I, uh, I think I left something here."

You held up the wallet. "This?"

His face relaxed in relief. "Oh, thank god! You found it." He reached for it, and you instinctively pulled it back just a fraction.

"You're Pedro Pascal," you said, stating the obvious, but somehow needing to hear yourself say it out loud. It still felt surreal.

He chuckled. "Guilty as charged. And you're… [Y/N], right?"

You nodded.

"I'm so grateful you found this," he said,

"I was freaking out. Everything's in there."

He gave you a charming smile. "You're a lifesaver."

"It's no problem," you replied, trying to sound nonchalant, even though your insides were doing a little victory dance.

"I was just about to close up."

"Well," he said, "maybe I could… buy you a coffee or something to thank you?"

A coffee? This was actually happening.

"I… I'd like that," you managed, finally handing him his wallet.

"Great," he said. "How about we go somewhere where I don't get mobbed by fans?" He grinned. "There's a little place around the corner I like. Quiet. We can go there."

"Okay," you said, grabbing your purse and locking the door. As you walked with him around the corner, you couldn't help but think: This is insane. Just a few hours ago, you were watching him across the street, thinking how lucky the other woman was. And now, here you were, about to go for coffee with Pedro Pascal. Life was definitely full of surprises.

As you and Pedro walked around the corner, he suddenly stopped. He was staring at something in the distance, his expression hardening. You followed his gaze and saw… his girlfriend. Kissing another guy. It was far enough away that you couldn't see the other man's face clearly, but Pedro definitely recognized her.

He went still, a muscle ticking in his jaw. You instinctively knew this was bad.

Shit. you thought.

He looked at you, his eyes dark. You cursed inwardly.

Double shit.

He put his hands on his waist, as if trying to decide his next move. Then, in a move that surprised you, he grabbed your hand and pulled you closer. "Come with me," he said, his voice low and tight.

Triple shit. What was happening? What was he going to do? He was furious, the betrayal evident in every line of his body. You were just along for the ride now, a bewildered passenger in his drama.

He started walking faster, pulling you along. You stumbled a bit, trying to keep up.

"Pedro, what are you doing?" you asked, your voice a nervous whisper.

He didn't answer. He just kept walking, his grip on your hand tightening. You could feel the anger radiating off him.

You reached to them. Pedro stopped abruptly. His girlfriend turned, her eyes widening in shock when she saw him. The other man looked startled, then quickly backed away.

"What the hell is this, Sofia?" Pedro's voice was dangerously quiet.

"Pedro, it's not…" she stammered.

"It's not what it looks like?" he finished, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Because it looks pretty damn clear to me."

"He's just a friend," she said weakly.

Pedro let out a harsh laugh. "A friend you kiss like that?"

"You're never around anyway!" she snapped back, her voice rising. "Always working, always away. I was lonely!"

"So you find comfort in another man's arms?" he retorted, his eyes flashing.

"Look at you!" she sneered. "What did you expect? I can't waste my time with an old man like you! I don't love you anymore! I want someone who is young and who can give me attention. I just wanted fame and money, and you were a ticket. Now I have a new ticket!"

"You used me?" Pedro's voice was low, laced with hurt.

"You're damn right I did," she spat. "And now I'm done. Don't call me again."

Pedro looks like he's about to say something, but you instinctively grab his arm. This is getting ugly, and you don't want him to get dragged down any further. You pull him back slightly.

Just then, Sofia turns her venomous gaze on you. "Looks like you found yourself a cheap slut too, huh?" she sneers.

Something inside you snaps. You're not going to stand here and take this. But before you can say anything, Pedro steps in front of you, his face a mask of fury. "Don't you dare talk about her like that!" he snarls. "She has nothing to do with this. You're the one who betrayed me, not her."

He grabs your hand again and storms off, leaving Sofia fuming. You can feel the tension radiating off him, the raw emotion of betrayal and hurt.

"You still owe me that coffee," you say quietly as you walk away, trying to lighten the mood.

He looks at you, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. "You're right," he says. "I do."

You go to the coffee shop, and you do your best to distract him, to comfort him.

You tell him silly stories about your life.

He listens, and slowly, the tension begins to drain. He's still hurt, you can tell, but he's also grateful for your presence, for the simple act of human connection in the middle of a messy, public breakup.

He talks about his work, the passion he has for acting, the challenges of being in the public eye. You talk about your dreams, your ambitions, the things that make you tick. You find yourself connecting with him on a level you didn't expect. He's charming, funny, and surprisingly down-to-earth. He's vulnerable, in a way that makes your heart ache for him. You find yourself wanting to protect him, to shield him from the pain Sofia inflicted.

As you left the coffee shop, he thanked you again for being there.

"If you ever need a shoulder to cry on," you said, "I'm here."

He looked at you, a wry smile twisting his lips. "Well, tonight I might need one."

"I think we could watch a movie together," he suggested.

You agreed, and he gives a genuine smile finally breaking through.

You went back to his apartment. It was huge, luxurious—fucking amazing. There was a massive TV screen. You couldn't hide your amusement.

He offered you a drink. You accepted.

"So," he said, seeming a little more relaxed, "what are we going to watch?"

"Wall-E," you said.

He laughed. "Wall-E?"

"It's my favorite," you admitted.

"It's one of mine too," he said, surprisingly.

You settled on the sofa, sipping your drinks and watching the movie. You chatted a little about yourself, your life, your dreams.

Then, you looked at him. "You shouldn't have to go through that," you said softly, referring to Sofia.

"It's not the first time," he admitted. "That's why I've been avoiding relationships."

"I get that," you said. "I've been single for years. It's fucking amazing. No stress, no worries." You paused. "Actually, I've never been in love with someone."

He looked at you, surprised. "How could a beautiful girl like you haven't found someone?"

"Well," you shrugged, "it just never happened. They all say I'm was too cold and hard to get."

He laughed.

You continued watching the movie. The ending was emotional. "I wish I could find love like that," you said. "Where you can fix each other, be patient, be best friends, and have complete trust."

He agreed saying "That's so rare nowadays, almost impossible."

You noticed he was exhausted. "I should go," you said, thanking him for the evening. You headed for the door, but he stopped you. He leaned in, as if to kiss you.

"Don't do this right now," you said gently, pulling back slightly.

He took your hand, and you could see the pain in his eyes. "Don't leave me alone tonight." he whispered.

You didn't want to hurt him more. He'd had a rough night. "I won't," you said softly.

You took his hand, and he led you to his bedroom. "Can I borrow a shirt?" you asked. You were staying the night, but only to sleep.

He found a yellow Lakers shirt. "Thanks," you said, taking it.

He left you alone to change. When he came back, he said he'd sleep on the couch.

"No, you won't," you said firmly. "You asked me to stay."

He couldn't take his eyes off you in the oversized shirt, which barely covered your waist.

You both lay down on the bed. You stared out the window. "I've never slept in a bed with a man before," you confessed quietly.

He turned to you, surprised. "Well, you're the first woman in this bed," he said.

"What about Sofia?" you asked.

"No," he said. "We usually spent time at her place."

"Well, I'm glad I'm the first woman in this bed," you said, a playful smile touching your lips. You kissed him on the cheek and turned to go to sleep. He watched you as you turned to sleep, your breathing becoming slow and even. He was amazed by you, by the way you had come into his life so unexpectedly, so powerfully. He was so impatient, his body buzzing with desire, wanting you, needing you. But he also knew he didn't want to rush things. He wanted this to be real, to be meaningful. He wanted to earn your trust, your affection. He wanted… more. He turned around, facing away from you, and closed his eyes, trying to will himself to sleep, the image of you, so beautiful and vulnerable in his bed, burning in his mind.

He woke up first. You barely stirred as he got out of bed. He was only in his boxers.

Damn, you thought, a little spark igniting within you. That man is hot. You really wanted him.

He made coffee, the aroma filling the apartment, and brought you a cup.

"You look beautiful," he murmured, his eyes lingering on you, a hint of mischief in them.

"Yeah, like a gremlin," you mumbled, still half-asleep, but a smile tugged at the corner of your lips.

He chuckled. "Well, one beautiful gremlin," he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I don't have any plans for the day. It's the weekend. Do you want spending it with me?"

"Sure," you said, finally opening your eyes and sitting up. "I'd like that."

You got up and made breakfast, a simple but delicious. You laughed and joked, the earlier tension melting away. It felt… comfortable. Natural. Like you’d known each other for much longer than a day. Then, the doorbell rang, shattering the easy atmosphere.

Pedro frowned and went to answer it. It was her. Sofia.

"What do you want?" he asked, his voice cold and flat.

"Pedro, please," she said, her voice trembling, on the verge of tears. "I made a mistake. I'm so sorry. I love you."

"You love me?" he scoffed, the hurt and anger from the previous night resurfacing. "You said some pretty harsh things last night, Sofia. Things you can't take back."

"I was angry," she pleaded, a single tear rolling down her cheek. "I didn't mean it. Please, give me another chance. I’ll do anything."

You stood there, a knot of anger tightening in your stomach.

She was playing the victim now, after everything she'd said, after the way she’d humiliated him.

"Get out, Sofia," Pedro said, his voice hard, unwavering.

"No," she said, stepping past him into the apartment. She saw you then, lounging in Pedro's Lakers shirt, and her eyes narrowed, jealousy and spite twisting her features.

"So, this is who you've moved on to? Some… some flower girl?"

That did it. You stepped forward, your anger finally boiling over. You were usually calm, collected, but Sofia's words, her harsh tone, pushed you over the edge.

"Don't you dare talk to me like that," you said, your voice low and dangerous, a warning in every syllable.

"Or what?" Sofia sneered, her eyes flashing. "What are you going to do, flower girl? Throw some petals at me? Arrange me a nice little bouquet of 'get lost'?"

"I'll do this," you said, your voice still dangerously quiet, and before Sofia could react, you slapped her, hard, across the face. The sound echoed through the apartment.

Sofia gasped, clutching her cheek, her eyes wide with shock and pain. Tears welled up in her eyes, but this time, they weren't tears of remorse. They were tears of humiliation and rage. She looked at Pedro, then back at you, her face a mask of pure fury. Without another word, she turned and fled, slamming the door behind her with a resounding bang.

Pedro stared at you, his mouth slightly open, a mixture of surprise, admiration, and maybe even a little bit of awe in his eyes. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he seemed momentarily speechless.

"That's how you deal with that," you said, your adrenaline still pumping, your voice a little shaky. "I think she will not bother you anymore." you added with a wry smile.

He laughed, a genuine, hearty laugh that filled the apartment. "You're a tough one," he said, shaking his head, still chuckling. He looked at you, his eyes filled with gratitude. "Thank you," he said softly, the laughter fading, replaced by something warmer, something deeper. He reached out and gently took your hand. "Thank you," he repeated, his voice husky. "For… everything."

❤️‍🔥

He leaned in and kissed you, and you didn't want to pull back. You kissed him back, roughly, passionately, your earlier anger now fueling a different kind of fire.

His lips were insistent, demanding, and you met his passion with your own, your tongues tangling in a heated dance. He lifted you up, his arms strong and sure, and carried you to the bedroom. He shrugged off his shirt, revealing his sculpted chest, and you quickly shed yours, your skin tingling with anticipation.

His kiss was fierce, possessive, a hunger in it that mirrored your own. His hands roamed over your body, caressing your curves, igniting a fire in your core. He kissed your neck, his lips tracing a burning path down to your breasts, teasing your nipples until they hardened into aching peaks. You, in turn, pulled down his boxers, your fingers brushing against his swollen cock, eliciting a groan from him.

His huge, thick cock was throbbing, pulsing with anticipation. You leaned closer, your tongue flicking out to taste him, swirling around the tip, savoring his heat, his size. "Mmm, you taste so good," you murmured, taking him deeper into your mouth, your hands cupping his balls, teasing them gently. He was so big you almost gagged, but you didn't stop, your right hand moving rhythmically along his length, stroking him, driving him wild. "Fuck," he groaned, his hands tangling in your hair. "You're going to make me come."

You pulled back, your lips glistening. "Not yet," you teased, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

He pulled you up by your arms, his eyes burning into yours, filled with lust and desire. He kissed you again, his lips bruisingly tender, then leaned down, his weight pressing you into the mattress.

He leaned down and kissed you softly, his lips lingering on yours. Then, with a playful glint in his eyes, he dipped his hand on your waist, in one swift, tantalizing motion, ripped off your panties. "Mmm," he murmured, his fingers tracing the delicate curve of your hip.

His fingers drifted lower, exploring the soft, sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

"Such a beautiful pussy."

You gasped as he reached your core, his touch sending shivers down your spine. He found your clit, teasing it gently, sending waves of pleasure radiating through your body.

"You're so wet," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "So ready for me."

He slipped a finger inside you, slowly at first, then deeper, exploring your depths.

"God, you're tight," he groaned, his voice husky. "I can't wait to fill you up."

You moaned, arching your back, your body instinctively responding to his touch. He added another finger, then another, stroking you rhythmically, building the tension, driving you wild.

"Oh, fuck," you breathed, your nails digging into his back. "That feels so good."

He continued to caress you, his fingers dancing inside you, finding every sensitive spot, every nerve ending. You were a symphony of moans and gasps, your body trembling with pleasure. He leaned down and kissed you deeply, his tongue mirroring the rhythm of his fingers, teasing and tantalizing you until you were on the verge of climax.

"I want you inside me," you whispered, your voice hoarse with desire. "I need you inside me, Pedro."

He looked at you, his eyes burning with passion. "You're going to get what you want," he growled, his voice thick with lust. He positioned himself between your legs, his cock throbbing against your core. He pushed inside you slowly, filling you completely, stretching you, his gaze never leaving yours.

"Yes," you moaned, arching your back, meeting his thrusts. "Fuck, yes."

He began to move, his hips slamming against yours, the rhythm building, intensifying. You were soaked, dripping, your pussy aching for him. You squeezed him tightly, your nails digging into his back, urging him on.

"Harder," you begged, your voice barely a whisper. "Fuck me harder, Pedro."

He obliged, his movements becoming more urgent, more demanding. He gripped your hips, lifting you higher, taking you deeper.

"You're mine now," he growled, his voice thick with passion. "You will belong to me."

"Yes," you gasped, your body trembling with pleasure.

"I'm yours. Fuck me, Pedro. Make me yours."

He fucked you harder, faster, his thrusts driving you wild.

You squeezed him tightly, your nails digging into his back, urging him on.

"Ride me," he growled, his voice thick with passion. "Show me how bad you want me."

You flipped him over, straddling him, and began to move, your hips grinding against his, your breasts swaying with each thrust. "Like this?" you purred, your eyes locked with his.

"Fuck, yes," he groaned, his hands gripping your hips, guiding your movements. "You're fucking amazing."

You rode him hard, your passion unleashed, your body consumed by pleasure. You were so close, so close…

"Cum with me," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "Let me feel you come."

You squeezed him tightly, your inner muscles clenching around him, and then you let go, your orgasm washing over you in waves of pure ecstasy. He followed close behind, his release a hot, shuddering rush that filled you completely.

You collapsed back onto the bed, pulling him with you. You lay there, tangled in each other's arms, your breathing ragged, your bodies still connected, the echoes of passion still reverberating between you.

He kissed you one last time, a soft, lingering kiss that spoke of tenderness and affection.

"Fucking amazing," he murmured, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

You smiled back, snuggling closer to him.

"Yeah," you agreed. "That was something I haven't never felt"

He says "Me too..this was something special."

The rest of the morning was spent in a haze of lazy contentment. You stayed in bed, tangled in each other's arms, talking, laughing, just enjoying each other's company. The earlier drama with Sofia seemed like a distant memory, a bad dream that had faded with the dawn.

Pedro was different now. He was softer, more vulnerable, more… real. The walls he had built around himself seemed to have crumbled, at least for now.

Hour later, he got out of bed and pulled on a pair of jeans. "How about we get some pizza?" he suggested. "And then… we can come back here and have some more fun." He winked, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Sounds perfect," you said, your heart fluttering at the thought of more time with him, more of his touch, more of his kisses. "I'm falling for you, Pedro Pascal," you whispered, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

He grinned, his eyes softening. "I'm falling for you too, [Y/N]," he said, his voice husky. He leaned down and kissed you softly.

"I'm going to prepare you a bath," he said, his voice soft and warm. He kissed you gently, a lingering kiss that made your heart flutter.

While you were soaking in the warm water, he appeared at the bathroom door, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Happy Valentine's Day," he said, holding up a single, perfect red rose.

You'd completely forgotten! "Oh my gosh," you exclaimed, laughing.

"You're not going anywhere," he said, his voice playful but firm. "You're mine all day and night."

You laughed, your heart overflowing with happiness. "I wouldn't dream of going anywhere," you replied, reaching out to take the rose. "I'm exactly where I want to be."

You were falling for him, hard and fast, and the feeling seemed to be mutual. There was a connection between you, a spark that ignited every time you were near.

After you both got ready, you left for a charming little pizza restaurant. He was joking, so goofy, making you laugh until your sides hurt.

"You know," he said between bites of pizza,

"I never thought I'd find someone who appreciates a good pepperoni pizza as much as I do."

"Clearly, you haven't met many people with good taste," you teased, winking at him.

"You're right," he said, his eyes locking with yours. "I haven't. You're… different. I've never met anyone so kind and grounded."

After the restaurant, as you were passing a boutique with fancy clothes, he suddenly pulled you inside. "I'm going to buy you a nice dress for dinner tonight," he declared.

He waited patiently, a soft smile on his face, as you tried on dress after dress. You finally picked out a stunning red one. When you stepped out of the dressing room, he was genuinely amazed.

"You look… breathtaking," he whispered, his eyes filled with admiration. "Absolutely breathtaking."

After that, he showered you with kisses and bought you more things—a delicate necklace, a beautiful purse.

"Pedro, you don't need to do this," you protested gently. "I'm not some material girl."

"I know," he said, taking your hand. "But I want to. I want to spoil you. You deserve it." He looked at you, his eyes filled with sincerity.

"I'm so happy I have the chance to spend time with you. I'm really lucky… and happy."

You blushed, your heart swelling with affection. "Me too," you whispered. "I feel so lucky thay I finally met you."

After all the shopping, you went for coffee, and that's when the paparazzi appeared, swarming you with questions. They were intrusive, annoying, flashing cameras in your faces. Pedro was visibly irritated, but he tried to stay calm. He put his arm around you protectively.

"No comment," he said repeatedly, trying to shield you from the barrage of questions. You quickly got into his car and drove away, leaving the paparazzi behind.

Back at his apartment, he sighed. "That was a bit much," he said, running a hand through his hair. "I need to get some things done. I'll be back before dinner to pick you up. Get ready. We're going out."

He kissed you softly. "And don't worry about those vultures," he said, a glint in his eye. "I'll handle them."

He left, and you started getting ready, wanting to look your absolute best. You slipped into a stunning red dress that made you feel both powerful and vulnerable, the fabric clinging to your curves like a second skin. A couple of hours later, he returned. His eyes widened as he took you in, a slow smile spreading across his face.

"Wow," he breathed, his gaze lingering on you. "You look absolutely stunning. Like a goddess. A vision in red." He kissed you, a gentle, lingering kiss that made your heart flutter.

"I'll just be a few minutes," he said, his voice husky.

"Don't keep me waiting too long" you say.

"I won't," he replied, a playful smile on his lips.

You watched him as he was getting ready. What a pleasure for your eyes.

He quickly changed, and then you were off to a truly elegant restaurant. The ambiance was perfect, the food divine, but the best part was the conversation. It flowed effortlessly between you, as if you were two halves of a whole, finally reunited. It seemed like you were meant to be, two souls who had found solace and understanding in each other.

"I feel like I've known you forever," he said, his eyes filled with warmth.

"Me too," you replied, your heart echoing his sentiment. "It's… it's like finally finding something uniquely."

After dinner, as you walked back to the car, your heels started to protest.

"These heels are killing me," you groaned, "I'm more of a sneaker girl, you know."

He immediately crouched down. "Then let me take care of my lady," he said, gently removing your shoes.

He then scooped you up into his arms, carrying you effortlessly.

"Pedro!" you exclaimed, surprised and delighted. "Someone's going to see us!"

He just smiled, his eyes twinkling. "Let them see. I'm proud to be seen with you." He kissed you softly, then carried you all the way to the car.

Back at his apartment, the air crackled with anticipation. As soon as you closed the door, he kissed you hard, his passion igniting yours. He was impatient all night, his desire for you palpable. He helped you with your dress, his fingers trailing down your zipper, teasing your bare skin beneath.

"You're driving me crazy," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "I can't wait to have you."

You, in turn, helped him with his shirt, your hands lingering on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. "You're making me crazy too," you whispered back, your eyes locked with his.

You quickly unbuckled his belt, your fingers brushing against his hard cock, eliciting a groan from him. You pulled down his pants and boxers, revealing his throbbing erection. You kissed him again, passionately, your tongue dancing with his. You teased his tip with your fingers, circling him gently, eliciting another groan. "You're so sensitive," you murmured, "I love it."

He then lifted you up, his arms strong and sure, and carried you to the bed. He laid you down gently, his eyes never leaving yours. He leaned down and kissed you deeply, then trailed kisses down your neck, your breasts, teasing your nipples.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "I want to taste you everywhere." He entered you slowly, from the side, savoring every inch of you.

"God, you're tight," he groaned. "So fucking tight."

He cupped your breasts in his large hands, teasing them, squeezing them gently, driving you wild. "Yes," you moaned, arching your back, meeting his thrusts. "Fuck, yes."

He then shifted, his movements becoming more urgent, more demanding.

"You feel so good," he groaned, his voice thick with lust. "So fucking perfect pussy."

He pulled out slightly, then pinned you down to the bed, his eyes burning into yours.

"Lift your hips for me," he commanded, his voice rough and possessive.

You arched your back, offering yourself to him. He grabbed your ass cheeks, his grip firm, and entered you again, this time harder, deeper, filling you completely. "Oh, fuck," you gasped, as he pushed past your entrance, filling you to the hilt.

Your pussy squeezed him tightly, milking his cock with your juices.

"You're so wet," he groaned. He rubbed your clit with his right hand, his fingers expertly teasing you, bringing you closer to the edge. You moaned, screaming his name, your body convulsing with pleasure.

"Pedro! Oh, Pedro!" He came inside you, his release a hot, shuddering rush that filled you completely. "Mine," he whispered, his voice thick with passion. "You're mine."

He kissed you gently and helped you get cleaned up, his touch tender and caring. You fell asleep in each other's arms, feeling safe and content.

The next morning, he woke you up with soft kisses. "Good morning, sleepyhead," he murmured, his voice warm. "If you could make us some pancakes… I'd be so much grateful. I love your pancakes."

You agreed, of course. You enjoyed cooking for him, the simple act of preparing his favorite breakfast filling you with a sense of warmth and affection. You made a batch of fluffy pancakes with fresh berries, and you enjoyed a leisurely breakfast together, laughing and talking.

"I have to go to work," you said reluctantly, as you finished the last bite.

"I'll drive you," he offered. He paused, then added, "This week is going to be crazy. I'm filming for SNL."

"I know," you said, a tinge of sadness in your voice. "I wish we could have spent more time together. This weekend was… amazing."

He took your hand, his eyes filled with sincerity. "We'll have more moments like this," he promised. "I want this… I want this to last." He kissed you, a lingering kiss that made your heart melt.

"I really like you, Pedro," you confessed, your voice barely a whisper. "And I think… I think I'm falling in love. For the first time in my life."

He smiled, his eyes softening. "Me too, [Y/ N]," he said, his voice husky. "I've never felt like this before. You're… you're everything I never knew I was looking for. You make me happy. You make me feel… complete."

He drove you to work, kissed you goodbye, and then you parted ways. As you walked into the flower shop, you were filled with a mix of joy and apprehension. You were so happy, so deeply infatuated with Pedro. You truly believed you were falling in love. But a small voice of doubt whispered in the back of your mind. Could this really last? You were from two different worlds. He was a famous actor, constantly in the public eye, his life a whirlwind of glitz and glamour. You were a flower shop girl, your life grounded in the simple beauty of everyday things. Could you bridge the gap between your two worlds? Could you make it work? Only time would tell.

Thank you for your reading ❣️

[pearlescentparade]

Hi!! here for a request for Noob X killer! reader (forsaken) fluff headcanons

yung kai - blue lyrics.

OMG NOOB..... let's hope i can get them right

🔰noob x killer! reader fluff headcanons 💝💞

noob walks right up to you when the round starts, blissfully unaware of your status as a killer. they believe you're just another friendly face that they can stick with in this scary new environment

you consider making a bloodbath of them, until they offer to share their snacks with you. automatically, you assume it's a peace offering or a plead for mercy. though you can't eat, you enjoy the sacrificial offerings regardless

they like to set up picnics with you during the round. they'll put out all of their food, sit down, and just chat about whatever comes to mind. you usually only listen and rarely chime in, but noob appreciates the company anyway. it helps them regain a sense of normalcy, and feel like they're living their old life before they were taken here. and while you've never known a life outside of this world (or at least, the spectre makes sure you don't remember it), you think you would've liked it to be something like this too

adding on, noob likes to play a game with you where they describe things in the 'real world' that they think you would have liked. even if you've never seen or heard of these concepts, you trust their judgement

it's always nighttime in the realm. so on your picnic dates, noob likes to stargaze with you. they don't know any constellations, so they make up their own

"that small star is me, and that big one next to it is you!"

"..how will we be able to tell them apart from the other stars?"

"they're really close together. like us!"

they trail you through every round, clinging onto your back like a lost puppy. when you encounter another survivor, you instruct noob to hide and close their eyes so they don't see you completely mutilating their friends. they are always the sole survivor

they are very jumpy. any sudden spooky noises in the ambience will make them latch onto you and cower. they've jumped into your arms before, and the embarrassment helped them forget all about their fear

the spectre blocks you from reciprocating any actions of love. even so, that doesn't deter noob from displaying his affection. they will hug, kiss, and compliment you like it's nobody's deal! they assure you that even if you physically can't do anything back, your presence is more than enough

often, you'll sneak up on survivors while they're doing a generator. all of them run in fear, except noob, of course. they sit there, still attempting to solve the puzzle on the generator. you'll hover over them, instructing them where to put what wire and what not. the accomplished smile that explodes on their face when they finish it invokes a feeling in you that even the spectre struggles to suppress

if anyone tries to give noob a hard time for lacking knowledge on how to do things, you target them heavily. and when you catch them, you ensure their death is gory and painful

sometimes, you bring their head to noob as a trophy and symbol of your love (since it's the closest thing you can do to show it). you even make sure to clean it and cauterize the wound where you severed their head from their neck so there's no blood at all, just for them!

"look, little fledgling. i've damned your enemy. now they won't bother you."

"AGH- that's- oh my goodness- uh.. i appreciate it, really-! i.. i just... i think i'm gonna throw up-"

"...apologies. i thought you would've liked to see it. it felt more romantic in my head."

"it's- it's okay, i'm- ough...- i'm fine with what you usually do.. it's the thought that counts..!"

they like to attempt to scare you by reappearing after eating their ghostburger. it never works, but you think it's cute. you'll even pretend your roles are switched, and you'll run from them as they act like the big bad killer chasing you

since noob had opened up to you about their drinking addiction, you've put a limit on how much bloxy cola they drink per round. if they've already reached it and try to go for another, you'll snatch it away and crush it in your hands. they protest about the waste of food, but can you really call the highly sugary processed drink 'food'?

because of your increased speed as a killer, noob likes to ride on your shoulders and pretend they're in a cart ride. you'll even go up and down slopes in the map and move in zigzag patterns to simulate the winding track, like how noob describes them

the other survivors use noob as bait, sending them out to find you first before you get to anyone else so that they can minimize the casualties. it's not in a mean-spirited way, it's a practical strategy because noob is able to distract you for the entire round and prevent you from killing anyone as long as long as the others stay out of your sight. noob doesn't mind, they'll happily assist their friends in anyway they can, considering they don't have any team-support abilities

(parade postscript: i tried to incorporate some of the song lyrics into the hcs, especially with the stargazing one! though i didnt know if i did it well LOL the song's meaning and lyrics kind of made me feel sad bc it felt very angsty with the themes of yearning and unrequited love, but i tried to focus on the sweet parts of it for the hcs :'])

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

I just love you | The Salesman x Wife!Reader |

Summary: The Salesman loves his wife and sometimes it shows in...unsetting ways.

Warnings: Possessive!Salesman - Obsessive!Salesman - Toxic!Relationship - Manipulation - Short

Its subtle, you wont notice it unless you were looking for it, or unless you were like him.

The Salesman its never one to lose his composture, even less in front of you. The firm grip he has on your hand while you two take walks its only his way of being sure that you are still by his side and that he did not lost you on the crowd. Its only that.

Right?

Its not him being paranoid over you wanting to run from him. No that would make him weak and be a signal that he is doing something wrong.

What about these tense smiles he gives to strangers when they (oh casually dont see the ring on your finger) come to you ? That predatory gaze that screams at them to back off. Its him being protective of you. Any husband would look bad at other men flirting with his wife. Its not something that should worry you.

What you dont know if that some of these same men end with him. On a different aparment that you dont know he has. Playing games for their lifes as a punish for even thinking they had a chance with you.

And when he worries that you are going out ? With your friend wearing that dress ? He does tell you how bautiful you look of course. Anything you wear looks perfect on you.

Then once you leave with a final kiss and promising that you will send him messages that you are fine and that maybe once you are back both of you can indulge in some pleasure.

He is on the app tracker seeing exaclty where you are. If he had any work to do while you were out its out from his mind. He can picture you having fun, and really he has no problem at all with it.

But he cant help but bite is UÑQS at the idea of someone getting close to you. At the idea that something bad could happen. Does he sends someone to follow you and make sure you are fine ? No. He does not want a single soul to know about you, and he wants to be your only protector.

When you send him different texts telling him you are doing fine and even some pics of you and your friends he can breath in peace. Just a bit.

Its only when you are back at his home that he his worries wash off. He is over you kissing you but also looking for any type of bruise or sign that someone touched you. He would also smell you, telling you he missed you but he his making sure no male fragance its on you.

Helps you take a shower and then cuddles you till you fall asleep in his arms whispering non important things.

Another thing he does that you dont know about its record your voice. Specially during the moments you tell him you love him or tell him soft things. He would listen to them on his way to the first station and then turn them off so he can change into that cold persona that needs to be to recruit players.

Plays it again on his way home since he needs to feel more human. Like he is getting out of one disguise and leaving himself for you to attack. On a playful and full of good intentions thing of course.

The moment he has you in a hug he is letting out the day he had and just enjoying this moment so perfectly made with you.

[goquokka00]

SKZ vs Shark Week (Bangchan ver.)

How would each member of Stray Kids handle you while you're on your period?

BANGCHAN | MINHO | CHANGBIN | HYUNJIN JISUNG | FELIX | SEUNGMIN | JEONGIN

WARNING: This is a female reader going through their period. If the topic of a period/anything that has to do with a period makes you uncomfortable, then don't read it. Just remember that there's nothing wrong with a woman's period. It's a perfectly healthy body function :)

THE MOODS Bangchan never fails to notice how your mood always changes whenever you're a few days out from your period. He's an observant man of 7 children, he WILL notice when something is off with you. Specifically when you get more depressed than you usually are.

You don't eat as much, you bed rot more, you never feel like going out, and you constantly look like you're two seconds away from crying. You also wear the same clothes for a few days at a time, because you don't have it in you to change out of them. And so, Bangchan takes it upon himself to love up on you more.

The more depressed you get, the more cuddly he gets in return. He'll hold you, give you kisses, compliment you over and over, all to make sure that you're okay. If his princess is feeling down, then he'll do everything in his power to lift her spirits back up. And nothing...NOTHING will stop him.

THE BLOOD Simply put, your flow actually isn't that bad. Yeah, you bleed for a few days, but it's nothing horrible. The part that's horrible (more so for Bangchan than you) is that you don't wanna cuddle when you're bleeding. While it's not heavy and it's manageable, you don't want to potentially leak on him. It'd be beyond embarrassing.

But Bangchan? He gets pouty and mopey when you tell him that you aren't gonna sit on his lap while he works. He knows it's because you don't want to accidentally leak, but come on! So what if you get blood on him, he'll happily risk the cleanliness of his pants if it means he can have you on his lap. But he also respects your wishes. He respects it with a grain of salt, but...he respects it.

THE PAIN Through your period, you do end up getting a few cramps, but it's nothing horrible. They aren't as bad as some horror stories you've heard of, but they're bad enough to where you're never really comfortable. Sitting or standing or laying down in one position for too long gets to be seriously uncomfortable, and you have to change. The horrible thing is the tender breasts. They just feel so heavy and sore, it's horrible.

That's where Bangchan comes in. He knows that you go through this, and so he pretty much makes it his soul mission to take care of you however you need. You need pain killers? Done. You want him to rub your stomach? Say no more. You need the heated blanket for your chest. He's on it.

There are even times where he'll go out and get you some treats for being such a trooper for dealing with this week of uncomfortableness. And of course, each treat comes with a shower of kisses and "I love you's."

THE PRODUCT Not once has Bangchan ever complained about running to the store to get you pads or tampons or whatever you might need. Why would he? You going through your period means two things; you're healthy, and you're not pregnant. And right now, both are good things.

Also, he has a sister. So of course he's used to the products that came with periods. He doesn't cringe when he sees the used wrappers and wrapped waste for the week. He's used to it.

For you, he's buying the best of the best. The first time you asked him to get you some pads, he had asked an employee about which product was the best, and got you that. Along with a new heated pad, a big heated blanket you could both cuddle under, your favorite snacks and drinks, and chocolate. He isn't skimping for you. He knows that your period is your least favorite time of the month, so he'll do whatever he possibly can to spoil you so you don't suffer as much.

Anything for you.

Hey! Firstly, thank you so much for reading this post, and I really hope you enjoyed! If you did, please like, reblog, or comment so I can see how I'm doing with writing and getting feedback! I hope you have a lovely day! Sleep well, stay in good health, and eat something if you haven't! ❤️❤️❤️

Taglist: @miss-daisy04 @kayleefriedchicken @wolfs-archive @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @wolfs-howling @rose-w-00-d

[messrsrarchives]

mini yap but i think the big thing about the censorship discussions is that to a lot of people, they seem really hypothetical and conceptual. like some distant far aware threat but really you can't open a comment section about snape/regulus/barty/DE characters on tiktok without seeing at least three comments calling the creator a facist or a nazi sympathiser. no grey space, no understanding, no critical thought just "snape post? you're a massive racist facist"

and of course, there's personal preference! you can say you don't want to engage with these characters,,, but censorship isn't some far away monster - it's already here.

it isn't just incest or teacher/student or any of the other things people complain about, it's all these smaller examples of you not being able to separate fiction from reality and immediately assuming that those engaging with this content are idiots who also can't do this separation.

we also have this same movement against period-typical attitudes. where a marauders fic writer will include misogyny in their fic set in the 70s, and their ask box/comments will be flooded with people saying they hate women and that the text was so misogynistic. "this line was so misogynisti-" it was meant to be. that's why the period-typical attitudes tag is there.

i beggeth you to understand how important these talks are??? like yes, we're writing about wizards but if you ignore that and break it down to the crux of the issue: you are saying that we are awful people for writing and engaging with these things, whilst books like the handmaid's tale and 1984 are pulled off of shelves. you are saying that these things shouldn't be in literature. something that has always been and will always be political, and you don't think the political things should be in it? in a time where these are on the rise and our education of them is being restricted?

we Need to be able to write about these things. politically and historically, we NEED to be able to write about these things, we need to be able to write about discrimination. about hierarchies, about awful morals and hideous acts. that's irrefutable - we need that evidence and that exploration and that critical analysis of society.

and you need to be able to separate fiction from reality. because censorship isn't some metaphorical threat, it's here and you can get on your moral high horse and say it's just the "really bad things" you want gone, but (1) no one is every going to agree because there's no universal morality or legality and (2) it's not just that. and it never will be.

you are in a queer space, i beggeth you to understand censorship will find its way back to your ships, no matter how "morally right" you feel for starting these talks.

[azsazz]

Over Ice (Part 10)

Hockey!Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Anon Req: She’s walking around Campus and BOOM right smack dab into Broody McBrooder!! She THEN finds out he’s the tutor for one of her hardest courses (personally Psych would be a good one) and they become super duper close with him and the team!!!

Warnings: Drinking

Word Count: 3517

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9)

Notes: Happy Valentine’s Day my loves 💙

_________________________________________

“Well…” Rhys trails off from over your shoulder. You don’t think your muscles could coil any tighter, didn’t think your cheeks could flare any hotter as you stared down at the returned quiz in your hands. Then Rhys appeared behind you after speaking with your professor. Not even the heat of his body nor the breath of his soft breathing can distract you from the paper. “It’s not an F.”

“It certainly isn’t an A,” you respond, glaring so hard at the red circle with the D+ scrawled in the middle. You’re focusing as much attention on making the paper burst into flames as you are trying to keep the prickling behind your eyes from turning into something more.

“I think aiming for an A was a bit ambitious to begin with,” Rhys says gently. It wouldn’t be hard for him to sense your utter disappointment, with your head hung low and the defeated slump to your shoulders. He has an urge to eat the space between you, wrap his arm around your shoulders and let you lean into him, to comfort you. He wants to see you smile, even glare at him, because anything is better than seeing you this downtrodden.

“Easy for you to say,” you mutter, shoving the paper into the fold of your binder before slamming it shut. The soft thud it makes does nothing to expel your annoyance, and you almost bare your teeth at the damn thing as you stuff it in your bag. “You’re like a dictionary for all things psychology.”

Rhys follows you from the hall. At least this was your last class before the weekend. You can shove any and all things psychology from your mind and focus on what’s much more important tonight, Gwyn’s birthday.

He holds the door to the lecture hall open and you dodge students entering for the class following yours. You catch the looks people shoot Rhys’ way. Apparently, he’s well-known. You see girls ogle him, guys nod in his direction as he passes like he’s some sort of celebrity or something. It’s almost laughable, how someone on a sports team could be so valued across a campus. And he’s not even on the football team, which you find even more impressive, since your school lives and breathes Bats football. Hockey is a close second, with women’s soccer a shocking close third for student events.

You suppose that any sporting event where people can get shit faced and scream nonsense in a large crowd would be appealing to most.

“Come on,” Rhys says. “You really didn’t do that bad.”

You shoot him a look.

“Rhys. Were we looking at the same quiz back there? Because all I saw was a big, fat D.”

He carefully folds his bottom lip between his teeth and amusement swimming to life in those heart-stopping violet eyes of his. He refrains from cracking a joke about how there could be another big, fat, D in your future, if you ask nicely. It takes superhuman effort to keep the comment to himself.

Still, you notice, and smack him playfully on the arm. “Gross.”

He holds up his hands in fake surrender. “I didn’t even say anything!”

“You didn’t need to,” you reprimand. You turn your head away from him, acting like you’re searching for something across campus. If he catches the way your cheeks flush from whatever he may have been thinking, he politely refrains from pointing it out.

“I studied so hard, Rhys,” you complain, grasping the straps of your backpack tighter. “I’m actually doomed.”

“You’re not doomed,” Rhys refutes. His arm brushes against yours as you walk and every time you remind yourself that someone could see you, you shift an inch over. “We’re going to have to work harder, that’s all.” Rhys doesn’t seem to notice the way you’re trying to create space. It’s like there’s a magnetic field drawing him into you, and within a few feet, you’re walking on the edge of the sidewalk.

And the thing is, you are trying really hard. You don’t know how much more effort you have, and there’s only a month and a half until finals. By your calculations, you’ll have to get Bs on every assignment, quiz, and test until the end of the year if you want to pass.

That sounds impossible.

“How about Saturday night? You can come over to mine after the game and we can study together.”

You can’t, even though you kind of want to see what the hockey house is like when there aren’t a thousand people stuffed into the interior. You want to see what Rhys’ room looks like. If word makes its way back to Mor, you’ll be totally and completely fucked. She’s your best friend and you’d like to keep your relationship with her. You’d be a terrible friend if you didn’t.

At your apprehension, Rhys continues. “Mor won’t find out, and if she does, all you have to do is tell her the truth. That I’m your tutor.” Fake boyfriend goes unsaid, and that’s the part you’re worried about.

Worried about it because you think you’re starting to like being Rhys’ fake girlfriend. The soft touches when Amarantha around feel good, an arm around your shoulder, the warm looks he sends you from the ice, like he’s still thinking about you when he’s deep in a game. And that kiss…you’re starting to get why his reputation is the way it is. His lips are sinful.

“I’m hoping I’ll be curing a hangover with greasy pizza or a juicy burger.” It’s a poor excuse, an even worse attempt at deflection.

Rhys quirks a brow. “From your little wine night?”

You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as you turn down the block to your dorm. It’s now you realize that Rhys is taking the time to walk you home. He mustn’t have much to do for the party tonight, despite the extravaganza being hosted at his house. It must be nice to have teammates pulling their weight.

Gwyn doesn’t get out of her last class until six thirty, which gives you and Mor almost two hours to pull out all of the decorations you’ve been stockpiling in the back of your closet, and pick up the cake from the local bakery. You don’t have to worry about getting the drinks for later, Gwyn was so excited to finally turn twenty-one and wanted to purchase the alcohol now that she’s officially legal. You and Mor pitched in, sending her off this morning with a pancake breakfast and cash for the alcohol. You can’t wait to pop open a bottle after the long day you’ve had.

“I’ll have you know that wine drunk is way better than vodka drunk,” you wrinkle your nose, “And it’s much better than getting drunk off of Cassian’s skunk punch. Seriously, what the hell is even in that?” You shudder at the memory. “Why is it even called skunk punch?”

Rhys grimaces, especially when he remembers that there will be no escaping Cassian’s concoction of basically every alcohol he can find and afford that night. It’s somehow even worse than a bar mat shot. As part of the tradition, everyone on the team must take at least one skunk punch shot, and he’s not looking forward to it.

“Trust me, it’s better not to know the answer to either of those questions.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” you agree.

You and Rhys stop just outside your building. He stares at you like he doesn’t want this moment to end, and neither do you. There’s a betraying thought in your mind that says you should roll up onto the tips of your toes and press your mouth against his, that he wouldn’t push you away. That his hands would wind around you to pull you even closer, that his fingers would thread through your hair like they did that night and guide your head like they might have if no one interrupted your kiss—

“Well, this is me,” you say, and curse yourself for being so awkward. Truthfully, you have no idea what to say, how to act when your heart is pounding in your chest with the way he’s looking at you.

His eyes flit to the building and back. “Are you sure you can’t want to make an appearance at my party tonight?” Rhys asks. “Just in case she shows up, of course.”

Right. In case Amarantha shows face.

He wants you to come even if his ex doesn’t show up. Hell, he’s praying that she doesn’t show up. Rhys just isn’t ready to say goodbye yet. The short amount of time he’s seen you today—walking you from your class to your dorm—hasn’t been enough.

You shake your head and he tries his best to mask the deflation of his shoulders. It’s not just any wine night; it’s your roommate’s birthday. If it wasn’t such an important event, or Gwyn didn’t despise hockey so much, you’d consider trying to convince her into going. “I really can’t tonight. It’s Gwyn’s birthday, remember?”

“Of course,” Rhys offers you a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. It’s polite. Awkward. “I’ll see you Saturday night at the game, right? And we’ll study after.”

“Sure you won’t have another party to attend after the big game, Mr. Hotshot?” you tease, and a true smile threatens to crack his face.

“There is one, but one of my other teammates is hosting,” he teases back. “We’ll have the place to ourselves.”

Your stomach flips at his words. All alone with Rhys? At his house?

To study, you reprimand yourself, though you can think of a million other things you’d like to be studying instead of psychology. Anatomy, for one.

“Yeah,” you swallow the butterflies trying to escape up your windpipe. You step away from him, needing the space before you do or say something you shouldn’t. You turn toward the door, continuing over your shoulder. “See you Saturday.”

“He even had a drawing!” Gwyn exclaims, and the three of you burst into another fit of the combination of the night: laughter and tears. Laughing so hard that you can’t help the droplets that squeeze from the corners of your eyes.

Her cheeks are almost as red as the wine in her glass. Or, was in her glass. How did she down her cup that fast? Your cup is still half-full. You glance at Mor, who’s in the middle of capturing a video of the drunk birthday girl who sloppily sticks her fork into the cake the three of you have been picking at all night. She ends up with frosting on her nose and the sight of your quietest roommate having the time of her life is so endearing that you’ve barely even thought about the party Rhys is at.

“No way,” Mor refutes, shutting her phone off and taking a big gulp of her wine. She’s in a maroon tank top and sleep shorts with her fuzzy platform slippers on her feet. They’re shaped like teddy bears, and one keeps staring at you where she taps her toes to the rhythm of the music pouring from the speaker on the kitchen counter.

Gwyn’s auburn hair pops against the white t-shirt she has on. There’s an emerald logo of the local bookstore on the front and a smear of blue icing beside it. A drop of wine down the center. It’s been a night for the birthday girl, and you’re having the time of your life.

“I swear! I know I’m a writer but I’m in no way that creative,” Gwyn insists, waving her fork around. A dot of icing goes flying toward the couch and lands on Mor’s cheek, causing another round of roaring laughter.

Gwyn had been telling a story about how someone in her creative writing class wrote the most ridiculous line she’s ever heard. Watery bowels. You can’t stop thinking about it, and every time you do, it causes another wave of cackles to sound.

Mor swipes the frosting from her face and licks it off her finger. You’re about to reach for your abandoned fork when your phone buzzes next to your socked foot.

You’re thankful for the alcohol warming your skin, because you’re full-on blushing and grinning so hard your cheeks hurt at the name that appears.

Rhys: Bored yet?

He’s been bothering you all night. This is the fourth time he’s asked you this. He wants you to try and convince your roommates to go over to their house and join in on the festivities, but you told him that you were having too much fun. He then tried to score an invite to your dorm, saying that it can’t be that much fun and to prove it if it was.

You replied with a video of you sending a picture of the mutilated cake, to which Rhys sent whining emojis in response.

You: Not quite.

Rhys: Is there still cake left? I’m famished.

You squint because the words are a little hazy with the amount of wine you’ve drank tonight. You almost jump out of your seat when the phone buzzes in your hand, lighting up with Rhys’ call.

You scramble to hide the screen, making sure that neither of your roommates saw. Thankfully, they’re both occupied with something on Mor’s phone, eyes wide as they try and comprehend what they’re looking at.

You want to answer, you do. You miss Rhys even though you’ve seen him a few hours ago. You wonder what he’s wearing, if those violet eyes are glossed with drink like yours are.

When you stand with the intention of slipping somewhere private to answer Rhys’ call, Mor takes notice.

“Where are you going?”

“Bathroom,” you answer almost too quickly, and stride for the door.

“Hello?” You answer, hitting the light switch with your elbow and flicking the lock shut behind you.

“Hi,” Rhys greets, and your smile breaks your face.

It’s loud at the house he’s at, but the background noise of partying students and loud music dims some as he finds somewhere quieter. Your heart flips in your chest at the thought of him abandoning a party to call you.

“What are you doing?” You whisper, leaning back against the door.

“Calling you,” he answers like an ass. Typical.

“Yeah, I got that. But why? You know Mor is in the room with me, right?”

“Is she in the room with you?” Rhys prompts.

You roll your eyes. “No.”

“Where are you hiding?”

“Bathroom,” you mumble, cheeks flaring. The ugly cream color matches the rest of the rooms in your on-campus apartment, the ceramic flooring perpetually cold beneath your socked feet. The only ounce of color is in the shower curtain you and your roommates picked out on sale when you moved in, a teal number with swirls of gold and mint. It’s the same pattern you swear was on your grandmother’s sofa when you were young. “You?”

“My room,” Rhys says, and you try not to think too much about that. “I’d say I have about ten minutes before Cassian finds me and forces me to do a skunk shot with him, so if you hear the sound of a bear mixed with a screaming eagle, that’s him.”

You snort a laugh. “That’s okay, I only have a few minutes, too.”

“Yeah, how’s that going? You three aren’t lonely yet?”

“No,” you roll your eyes even though he can’t see. “But clearly you are.”

Rhys hums noncommittally. “So what if I am?”

The fluorescent lights are burning your eyes and you blink blearily, wondering if you just heard what you think you did. You curse yourself for forgetting your glass in the spot you abandoned to eagerly answer his phone call, because your throat has suddenly dried up. You wonder how unladylike you’ll sound if you decided to stick your head under the faucet.

“I would tell you that there’s a million girls just downstairs to keep you company,” you say, but you don’t really mean it. In fact, the wine in your stomach sours when the words come up.

“Maybe,” Rhys says, and you can picture him shrugging those broad shoulders of his. The very ones you want to kick your legs over with his head between your thighs. Fuck, you can’t be thinking like this. “But none of them are my lucky charm.”

His lucky charm? You’re his lucky charm? You can’t say that you’re upset with the sentiment, even if it’s not true. He’s drinking, he’s just flirting, which is only going to make the hole you’re already slowly digging yourself even deeper, and you’re not all that sure you’d mind.

Mor’s laughter creeps under the door and you force yourself to change the subject. Focus.

“You know what? Maybe I need one of those good luck thingies,” you sit on the edge of the tub, reveling in the way the chilled porcelain cools your burning skin.

“Good luck thingies?” Rhys muses, and you wonder what he’s doing right now. Is he lying on his bed? Sitting at his desk? Pacing the room?

You startle back into yourself when Rhys calls your name. He sounds worried, and it’s flattering. You imagine the way he might be chewing his lip, that same hot, demanding mouth you want to feel on yours again.

The scalding heat in your cheeks reflects between your legs, your pussy pulsing with want. “You listening to me?”

“Huh?”

Beautiful laughter echoes through the line and steals your breath from your lungs.

“I asked ‘what good luck thingies?’”

Good luck thingies? You frown, racking your mind for the lost conversation. Oh! “You know, like…” you trail off, waving your hand flippantly as you grasp for answers. “Something that can help me ace the next test. Like how you claim I’m your good luck charm. I think James’ is listening to this one rap song from the nineties—”

Rhys grunts unhappily and you almost smile.

“Please don’t bring up Attor while we’re on the phone,” he all but groans. You stifle a giggle at his jealousy.

“Fine,” you roll your eyes. Outside the door, your roommates begin chanting your name from the couch, their voices muffled. They’re asking for the third bottle of wine you stashed in the fridge to cool. “What do you think my good luck thingie should be?”

Rhys hums thoughtfully and the sound rumbles to your core. You’re sure he doesn’t mean it to sound as arousing as it does. You clench your thighs together carefully.

“Don’t know,” he says. “Maybe you should come here and find out.”

Gods, does that sound perfect right now. You want to know exactly what he means by that, and when you open your mouth to respond, you’re cut off by a loud pounding on his side of the phone that makes you flinch. You wobble on your perch but manage to keep steady as you hear Cassian get into his room. Rhys curses about how he thought he locked the door.

“Bitch, why the fuck are you hiding?” Cassian bellows. “We need to take skunk shots, stat! The rest of the team is waiting!”

Rhys breathes your name over the line. “I have to go. Come over if you can, yeah?”

“I can’t promise anything,” you whisper back, and the line goes dead.

You take a second to compose yourself, and exit the bathroom. Your roommates cheer when you pull the wine from the fridge and wave it around like you just won gold at the wine-retrieving event. You make a fake speech as you pour, and slowly, the FOMO trickles away.

“Ugh,” Mor groans, locking her screen and tossing it to the foot of the couch. She takes a sip of her wine and sighs dramatically. “My cousin and Cassian will not stop texting me! They’re so annoying!”

“Texting you about what?” Gwyn asks, gulping down her wine. You think she might need to stop soon, but you don’t want to kill her birthday buzz.

“Their dumb party. They keep telling me we should come over. I already told them that we’re busy!”

You watch Gwyn hum. There’s an idea churning behind those bright eyes of hers, but you have no idea what. It’s no secret that she despises hockey and everything to do with it for some reason, but you don’t know the story. She doesn’t look like she’s ready to spill on that quite yet, but her eyes do light up with mischief.

“I hate hockey and I don’t want to go to their party, but wouldn’t it be fun to prank them?”

Prank them? Coming from the girl who would never break a rule, not even something as silly as jaywalking.

“Prank them how?” You ask, sharing a confused look with Mor, who sits up on the couch and leans closer to your roommate.

“I don’t know,” Gwyn hiccups, and she looks funny with the over-dramatic way she masks on her innocence. “What if we stole that trophy they love so much?”

_________________________________________

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