#but yeah feel free to ask me to do whatever cause i probably will if im free just to keep myself busy asdfasd

[lovelivision]

RUIN THE FRIENDSHIP!?

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: geto suguru/reader

𝐖𝐂: 11.9k

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: friendships are hard, especially when the lines are so blurry you can't tell where the both of you stand. so what do you do when you catch feelings on top of all that ??

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ only, smut, angst (?), swearing, making out, annoying drunk stranger, fingering, dirty talk, marking, titty worship, p in v sex, clit slapping, creampie, geto fucks mean, geto is a TEASE, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, f!reader, she/her pronouns used, no use of y/n, i think that's all !!

Being friends with Geto Suguru isn’t hard… in theory but in practice it’s one of the most difficult things you’ve ever had to do. It’s especially difficult because he does things for you that feel like they’re pushing the boundaries of a normal friendship without actually doing anything weird.

Things like his insistence on bringing things for you when you’re feeling down, showing you extra care in how he talks to you, hanging out with you and having frequent movie nights, being attentive to your needs. While those things are innocuous in theory, it’s the way he treats you, talks to you and how it makes you feel that has your friendship feeling like it’s on a precarious ledge. Caught between pulling back or pushing over.

Sighing, your foot kicks at his sitting form, “Don’t you have something better to do tonight?”

“Like what?” His eyebrow raises at you, eyeing your lazy form, spread out comfortably on your couch.

You’d feel bad for taking up the whole couch if you weren’t so comfortable, “I don’t know, like a date? Hanging with friends? Going out on the town or whatever youths do.”

“Firstly, I’m older than you–”

Interjecting to add, “–Not by much!”

He only rolls his eyes, ignoring your interruption all together, “To your other points, I’m not interested in dating right now, and I am hanging out with a friend.”

Sighing louder than last time, foot pushing him enough to sway him, “Aren’t you bored of me?”

“No?” his brows pinching in confusion, “Should I be?” Hand grabbing your foot to stop it from kicking at him.

You pout, trying to pull yourself free of his grip, “I don’t know.”

“Don’t say stupid things,” he huffs, amused by your struggle. “I could ask you the same thing you know.”

“I like hanging out with you,” you grumble at him.

“Yeah, well, I feel the same,” finally letting go of your foot.

You’re feeling restless, he’s your friend, you know he’s your friend, and yet you can’t help hoping that your friendship is just a little bit more special. You groan and kick at him with both your feet.

“Woah, hey!” Both his hands grab at your ankles, pinning them down into the couch, “What’s wrong with you tonight?”

“I’m annoyed.”

“I’ve taken notice,” he’s trapping you with a pointed look, waiting for more of an explanation from you.

If you had an explanation, you’d give it to him but as of right now, you aren’t even sure if you’re aware of what you’re feeling enough to verbalise it to him. You deflate, looking back at him sheepishly, “I know you want to know what’s wrong, but I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? Or you don’t want me to know?”

Pushing yourself up, you cock your head at him, “The result is the same despite my answer, no?”

“No.” His tone resolute, “I could help,” he returns.

You deliver a very plain, “You can’t.” He’s the cause of your confusion, talking to him could make it all so much worse and you don’t really want to deal with the fallout of all that.

“Woah, awful dismissive of me, I might be able to fix what’s wrong easily.”

Turning so you’re facing the screen, you try to focus on the plot, “You can fix what’s wrong right now by being quiet and watching the movie.”

“I was watching the movie, you distracted me,” he pokes lightly at your shoulder.

Shushing at him quickly, “Shut, I’m trying to listen.”

He doesn’t say anymore, just goes back to watching the movie in silence, probably following the plot better than you are because you’re sat closer to him like this and can’t help but sneak glances at him.

It’s not fair, he looks pretty like this, face illuminated by the soft glow of the television, seemingly entranced by the movie playing. While gazing over his features, you find yourself constantly looking back at his lips, heart stuttering in your chest. You wonder how kissing him would feel like, would it help, wait.

Prying your eyes off him, you desperately hope to be shown some kind of mercy, you shouldn’t want to kiss him, you shouldn’t be thinking about kissing him. You need to get a hold of yourself.

Unfortunately, you are not shown any mercy and all you can manage to think about is him, how soft his lips might be, how he would kiss you, would he be tentative… or would he kiss you like he’s done it a million times before.

Not even realising you’re staring at him again until he sighs and locks his eyes onto yours, “Are you aware you’re staring at me?”

Trying to play it cool by answering, “I was not staring.”

“Are you alright?” He’s growing a little concerned by your unusual behaviour tonight.

“I’m fine! Good even, just… a little lost in thought is all.” You feel guilty.

“And just what exactly are you thinking about?”

Your skin flares at his question, feeling embarrassed by your thoughts, “Nothing! General thoughts… you know…”

“Right…” He’s clearly sceptical, not believing your flimsy answers for even a second, “Have I done something to upset you?”

He’s too much for you right now, you try answering confidently but fail miserably, “No?”

Moving so his body is facing you, he gets into your space, worried by your answer, “Why don’t you sound sure?”

“Why are you asking me so many questions tonight?” You avoid his gaze, flustered by him suddenly so close to you. Still thinking about his lips on yours, in the back of your head thinking about his hands on your body.

“You’re being weird, I’m just concerned,” his hand reaches for your face, “Do you have a fever or something?” His knuckles rest on your cheek, gauging your temperature.

“Seriously, I’m fine,” you’re fumbling more than you want to, eyes rounded and shocked looking into his.

It feels like you grow warmer the longer his hand stays on your face, it’s becoming difficult to think. If you had a good reason, you would kick him out right now but you’re already concerning him and you’re trying so hard to be normal. This night is taking a very unfortunate turn.

His face twists, concern written all over it, “You feel a little warm, are you sure you’re okay?” Hand slipping from your cheek, moving to rest against the back of the couch.

Trying to keep your answers short, you give a simple, “I’m sure.”

Geto doesn’t know where to go from here, his silence is evidence of that. You don’t blame him though because you’re not really sure where to go from here either, the thoughts of his lips on yours linger in your mind and you feel as if you could die.

“I just…” He looks to you when you start talking, ready to hear whatever it is you have to say, “I was just thinking – and don’t make this weird – but I was thinking about… how you would kiss me…” your words trail off slightly, growing quieter and quieter with each word.

His eyes widen slightly in response before he switches back to his neutral expression, “I–”

“–I don’t wanna know, don’t talk actually,” you cut him off abruptly, too embarrassed to dissect this any further and certainly not willing to have a conversation with him about it, already regretting having admitted to thinking it.

He questions you, clearly caught between being entertained and somewhat concerned, “I’m not allowed to comment?”

“No.”

“Even though you’ve been thinking about how I would­–”

Hurriedly moving your hand to cover his mouth, hissing out, “Shush!”

You’re closer like this, the proximity flustering you, the silence awkward, Geto glares at you from under your hand. He has something to say and is showing clear disdain for your repeated interruptions.

His larger hand reaches up and wraps around your wrist, trying to gently pry your hand away but you hold steady. Growing frustrated with this little tug of war game you have going on, he uses more force to pull your hand down, grabbing your other hand as well. Restraining them both in your lap, keeping you still.

Exasperated when he asks, “Don’t you think you’re overeating slightly?”

“No.” You tug back on his grip but get nowhere.

“Why are you annoyed at me over this? They’re your thoughts,” he reminds.

You’re irritated with how right he is, it’s not his fault you’re thinking like this, but it doesn’t change the fact that sitting right next to him makes it difficult for you to think of anything other than how soft his lips might be, or if he’ll hold you still while he kisses you, or if­–

He barks out a quick laugh, “You wanna kiss me that bad?”

Realising you were staring at his lips again you feel like you might spontaneously combust, struggling against his hold and huffing out, “Shut up, just forget I even said anything.”

He sounds restrained and incredibly serious when he murmurs back, “Might not be able to if you keep looking at me like that.”

“Don’t make this even more embarrassing for me, Suguru! It’s your fault,” you accuse indignantly.

Lips quirking evilly, “Oh? So, you want me to fix it then?”

“You should! Take a little responsibility,” you grumble out at him, all pouty and annoyed.

Leaning in closer to press you, “Do you want me to kiss you? Do you think it would help?”

“I don’t know… I mean…” you look to his lips again, gaze getting a little lost as you do.

If Suguru were being honest with you, he’d tell you how much you’re killing him when you look at him like that but he’s stubborn and a tease, so instead he says, “Eyes up here.”

Dragging your eyes back to his and staring daggers, completely pissed at him but mostly yourself for being so obvious again, “Do you think it would help?”

“You’d stop wondering,” he shrugs easily, like this is all so incredibly normal and not uncharted territory for the both of you.

“I don’t want this to make our friendship weird,” feeling pathetic as you look at him, you’re not even sure if what you have together is as simple as a friendship, it feels like so much more. At least, you’re kind of hoping it is, kissing him could do irreparable damage and you don’t just mean in terms of how you act around one another but specifically how you feel about him.

“I won’t let it,” he assures.

“I’m not worried about you…”

He’s taken aback by your small admission, it’s not clear enough for him to make any real conclusions from it or confront you on anything just now but he knows it makes his heart beat faster and flusters him slightly. In all his years of casual dating and serious relationships, you’re the only person to have ever made him feel like such a fool.

“It’s up to you then,” he smiles softly.

You aren’t sure if it’s worth the risk but if this is the only chance you’ll get then you don’t know if you want to risk letting it go by either, “I think… yes.”

Playing dumb, he asks, “‘Yes’ what?”

Your tone lowers again, confident answer short lived when he teases you, “Yes… I want you to kiss me…”

“You’re sure?” He asks but his hands are already moving up your body, one resting against the side of your neck, touch gentle and light.

“I mean… I’m not sure if this is a good idea but I’m sure I want you to kiss me.”

He huffs lightly in disbelief, breath tickling against your lips, “What’s wrong with you tonight?”

“You…” Frown dusting your features as you utter it, eyes already focused back on his lips.

He doesn’t say anymore after that, faltering in his movements a bit but ultimately moving in completely and pressing his lips to yours delicately. It’s featherlight, kiss shallow and simple, like he’s holding back. It’s still enough to have your head full, full of thoughts of him, of how soft his lips are, how gentle his kisses are.

Geto pulls back all too soon for your liking, putting some distance between the two of you, head cocking to the side as he looks you over, “Curiosity satisfied.”

“Is that really how you would want to kiss me?”

“What?”

At his question you’re suddenly all too aware how bold yours was, “I just… It’s nothing, sorry.” Fumbling over yourself, not wanting to hurt his feelings, “It was nice! It was a nice kiss.”

“No, no,” he squints at you, “Go on… say what you want.”

It’s quiet for a moment, your hesitance clear, “…Did you… kiss me how you wanted to?”

“I think if I kissed you how I wanted,” pausing to lean in closer, “You might pass out or something.”

“Oh, come on, you’re not my first kiss or anything,” you roll your eyes at him and his ego, “I was just curious, if that’s really how you’d kiss me then that’s all there is to it, it was a nice kiss,” you shrug at him.

“Why am I starting to feel like I’m being assessed?”

“If you feel that way then that’s on you.” Trying so hard to play it cool, like you can’t tell he was holding back, like you don’t want him to kiss you more, “Do you wanna go back in the movie? To where we were before?”

As you get up to move off the couch and find the remote, Suguru is pulling you back down to him, one hand gently holding the front of your throat. You don’t get a second to think about all the movements he just made, his lips on yours, rushed, like he’s suddenly, incredibly desperate to kiss you.

Barely able to keep up with him, head dizzy from the whiplash, this isn’t at all how he kissed you before. You’re basically panting against him when he does pull back, allowing you the small moment to catch your breath.

His thumb pulls down on your chin lightly, “Open your mouth more,” his eyes are lidded as he looks at you, tone deeper than before.

Obeying him wordlessly and then he’s kissing you again, tongue in your mouth. It’s all messy and rushed and has you losing your mind. Your arms wrap around his neck, and he pulls your body closer to his, hand moving to the back of your head.

When he sucks your tongue into his mouth and licks at you, you can’t stop the moan that leaves you. Swallowed down by Geto in an appreciative manner, his kiss lingers for a while longer, making you dizzy and thoughtless. He pulls back from you, connected by a string of saliva that snaps when he licks at his lower lip.

The look on your face is dumbstruck, eyes big and wet as you gaze up at him in a dazed manner. It makes him feel feral, not able to help the way he leans back in and presses more short, sloppy kisses to your swollen lips.

There’s a pause before you can regain your faculties enough to say anything to him and even then, the only thing you can manage is, “I… uhm…”

“Was that better?” He’s trying to be light-hearted about it, but his lips are swollen as well, and his eyes are lidded, and he looks… “You didn’t pass out did you?” His head lowers so his eyes catch yours.

Your brain feels fuzzy and all you can think about it how you’ve never been kissed like that before, that you want to keep being kissed like that, “What? No… I just… wow.”

“Live up to your expectations?”

“I didn’t really have any, I was only curious…” Smiling big at him, you add, “But yeah, maybe even exceeded them.”

“You aiming to boost my ego, or did I really kiss you stupid?” He can’t help the way he leans in again, just shy of your lips.

Mouth on yours before you get to answer or refute what he’s accused, you don’t stop him though, allowing him to kiss you fully, deeply. One of his hands on the side of your face, holding you, the other grips at your hip, almost tugging you in closer.

Before you lose focus again, you part to gasp out, “I don’t know if–” interrupted by his lips on yours, hand tangling into his hair to pull him back, he groans at the force of the tug, “Suguru, I don’t think it’s a good idea to keep–”

“–Just another kiss, one more…” breathless in how he asks, mouth hot on yours, tongue already in your mouth.

It’s almost too much, he’s so insistent, he’s kissing you like he might never get to again, like he’s trying to get the most out of this. He might actually have you passing out, it’s not even as if you really want him to stop but that’s part of the problem, isn’t it?

Pulling back, he sucks on your lower lip before nipping at it, the whimper he pulls from you is embarrassing and weak and you’re facing an internal conflict of so many emotions right now but mostly you’re struck by how badly you want to sleep with him.

You hadn’t realised his hand had snuck under your shirt, warm and large against your side, sending a shiver down your spine. The breathlessness you’re hit with has your skin feeling hot as you try to stumble out your words, “I, uh, think we should stop… here.”

“Why? Am I not a good kisser? Are you not enjoying yourself?” A smile creeps onto his face, “You sounded like you were enjoying yourself.”

“Don’t.” Your head tucks down and onto his chest, forehead leaning against him, “Please don’t embarrass me.”

He wraps his arms around your body, embracing you, “Can’t help it.”

You stay like this for probably longer than you should, enjoying the moment too much for someone who’s about to go back to being just his friend.

Geto breaks the silence first, speaking into the top of your head, “Is your curiosity satisfied or are you going to start kicking me again?”

“I can’t promise I’ll never kick you again but yeah… I’m satisfied.”

He laughs against you, “Alright, well, if you’re ever curious again… you know where to find me.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

It’s been about a week since you crossed a line you probably shouldn’t have in your friendship with Geto, and like the incredibly brave individual you are… you have been ignoring him.

Not on purpose though, you intend on replying to all his messages… but then you get nervous and freak yourself out and stop short of sending anything back. From his messages, you can tell he’s getting increasingly more worried… or maybe frustrated… you’re not sure, there is only so much you can infer over text.

Maybe you should reply, looking at his last message that reads, ‘seriously? answer me. today.’ Oh yeah… he’s annoyed, you have no idea how to reply to him, maybe something simple? Or maybe a long paragraph overexplaining yourself… or maybe–

Your phone screen changes to Shoko’s caller ID, saved by the metaphorical bell, “Hey! What’s up?”

She sounds a bit short when she answers you, “Are you coming tonight?”

“Tonight…” You trail off, completely blanking on what the hell she’s talking about.

Her reply coming incredibly deadpan and disappointed, “You forgot.”

“No noo, I would never forget about…” The rest of your sentence dropping off, silence falling over the line.

She fills in the gaps for you, “The stupid party that’s being thrown by our stupid friends to celebrate the stupid event that is a boring, normal, Friday night.”

She already sounds over it and you’re pretty sure she would’ve only just got there, “Okay, well… I now feel significantly better about the fact that I actually had forgotten what tonight was.”

“Yeah well I wish I had forgotten too because this is boring without you.”

“Didn’t you only just get there?”

“I feel like that’s beside the point,” you can feel her eyeroll through the phone, “So, when are you getting here?”

Sighing as you ask, “Do I really have to come?”

Not missing a single beat when she shoots back, “I’m here which means yes, you do.”

You go quiet for a moment, “…Will Suguru be there?”

“You’re more likely to know than me,” she sounds confused, “Listen, I don’t know what happened but surely you don’t think you can avoid him forever.”

“Not forever… just tonight,” you really don’t feel like running into him in person, not when you can barely get your head on straight long enough to message him back.

“I haven’t seen him, and he didn’t sound all that interested when this was first planned so I doubt he will show up.”

“You’re not just lying to get me there, are you?”

“Of course not,” it’s always been hard to tell when she’s joking but you’re pretty sure Suguru isn’t there, if you had been replying to him, you probably would’ve ended up hanging out together tonight just to avoid that pointless party.

Deciding to take the risk, you acquiesce, “Alright, I’ll be there soon, just give me a bit to put on something that isn’t pyjamas.”

Getting out of the apartment will be good for you, that and you’ll have the chance to catch up with Shoko, it’s been a while since you last hung out.

“Just come in your pyjamas.”

“Okay, now you’re being unreasonable,” you chuckle.

She groans through the phone, “Gojo and I just made eye contact, that’s like asking to be trapped in a conversation for at least an hour.”

You smile at her and her exaggeration, “That’s really funny, tell him I said hi.”

“Don’t hang up on me–”

The line goes dead as you hang up on her.

Nearly an hour has passed by the time you get to the party, but when you make eye contact with Shoko across the room – still stuck in conversation with Gojo – it looks like a century has passed for her.

Walking up to them both, you grab Gojo by the sides of his arms and shake him, making a loud noise to scare him as you do. He just about dies then and there, head whipping around to see it’s just you and gripping a hand over his chest.

He’s a little breathless when he scolds you, “You scared the fuck outta me, what the hell?”

“I thought it would be funny,” you smile bright at him, out the corner of your eye seeing Shoko fighting a smile and hiding it behind her drink.

“It wasn’t,” he half pouts.

“It kinda was,” Shoko interjects.

He just continues to pout over how badly you got him.

“Hi Satoru,” you chirp at him, trying to be as sweet as possible for scaring the living daylights out of him.

“Yes, hello,” he fights a smile when greeting you back, and then his face twists as if suddenly remembering something, “Hey! What happened with you and Suguru?”

Taken aback by his abruptness, “What?”

Staring intently at you, seemingly desperate to know your business, “I know something happened, you gotta tell me what.”

Honestly, you would’ve thought Geto would’ve told him by now, seeing as how they’re sort of attached at the hip, “He hasn’t told you?”

“He’s insistent that nothing is wrong.”

“Then nothing’s wrong.”

“I know something is wrong and I also know you’re dodging him because he made me text you to see if you’d reply and you replied within the same minute,” he squints at you accusatorily.

Arms crossing over your chest as you size him up, “You sent me a photo of the cat that hangs out in your neighbourhood as bait? That’s messed up Satoru.”

“I was investigating,” he defends.

“No, you were being nosy, just like you are now.” Something occurs to you very suddenly, “Wait, if you’re here… and I’m here… where is Suguru?”

“Here, obviously,” he shrugs.

Turning, you glare at Shoko who raises her hands in defence, “Don’t look at me like that, I didn’t lie, I really haven’t seen him. I’ve been trapped in conversation with this idiot the whole time.”

“Trapped? That’s so mean Shoko,” Gojo plays up his hurt, sulking and giving her the saddest eyes he can muster. It unsurprisingly has no effect on her.

He’s here somewhere, you need to leave before he sees you. You’re so annoyed at yourself for not connecting that Gojo being here obviously meant Geto was going to be here too, especially since he wasn’t with you.

Spinning, you go for the front door you came through not that long ago, getting it open a crack before a hand above your head closes it. Turning around, you come face to face with Suguru, a very annoyed Suguru. Polite smile painted on his face but his eyebrow twitches slightly.

His weight supported by his hand on the door, leaning down to you, “And where are you going?”

“I was just gonna… head home… get an early night?” Looking away from him as you lie poorly, not able to look at him without thinking about how he kissed you.

He points out, “You just got here though.”

“Yeah, it’s just… not my scene…” In your defence, not a complete lie.

“Really? Because it feels like you’re avoiding me.” He leans down to catch your eyes with his, sick of you avoiding eye contact.

You’re only able to look at him incrementally, eyes flicking from his, to the wall behind him, “No there’s no reason for me to be avoiding you, I don’t know why you would think that.”

“Oh good! That means you can stay then,” face scrunching with his – now – less than polite smile. Clearly growing frustrated with how you’re refusing to communicate with him properly.

You have no excuses to give, nothing good or even remotely believable anyways, “I uhh–”

Cutting you off to give an ultimatum, “–Either we’re leaving and talking like adults or you’re staying right here and suffering through this whole night with me right by your side.”

His choice in wording disgruntles you, locking eyes to say, “It doesn’t cause me suffering to be beside you, Suguru,” you want to make at least that much clear.

He gives you a tight-lipped smile, “Good. Then you won’t mind me not leaving your side.”

Weighing your options, you don’t know what would be better right now. On the one hand you’d get to leave but then you’d have to tell him about how much you’re affected by the line you crossed, about how you’re developing feelings for him that you shouldn’t have indulged in. On the other, you stay but he lingers around you all night and you’re left haunted by all the things you want to say but can’t quite bring yourself to.

“Let’s go back to everyone then,” you smile back at him.

His face drops, “You don’t wanna talk about it that bad?”

“Suguru, you’re looking for answers I don’t even know if I can give you.”

He relents and takes a step back from you, “Fine. But just so you know, you can’t get rid of me that easily.” Waiting for you to want to talk first seems to be his main goal but you can see just how impatient he’s getting.

You ignore his comment and walk past him back to Gojo and Shoko in the other room, they’re both exactly where you left them. It’s awkward, for you anyways, you don’t know about them or everyone else here, but you feel awkward.

It carries on for the whole night, it’s been a couple hours now and Suguru is still just following you around wordlessly. Only speaking to others when spoken too, engaging in some conversation, only to cut it short when you move on.

This really isn’t fun for you, normally not even bothering to come to house parties like this and only doing this as a favour to Shoko but she’s gone home now, and you’re left here with just Geto. You’d leave too, but you have a feeling Geto is going to follow you home, or at the very least make you talk to him before you try leaving and you’re just… so not in the mood.

Sighing softly to yourself as you walk into the kitchen, somehow managing to shake your tail, for now. Taking the small reprieve as a chance to breathe and think, which is cut short when some stranger starts a conversation with you.

“Hi! You’re really hot, do you want a drink? I can make you a drink. I’ve never seen you here before and trust me – I’d remember you.” He’s slurring his words slightly, “So, drink? You wan– I can get you a–”

He’s really forward, and drunk, it’s making you uncomfortable, especially since you’re far to sober and far too annoyed to have to deal with drunk men. “–I’m good, thank you, I’m not drinking.”

“Oh, come on! Jus one drink, it’ll loosen you up,” he moves in to elbow your shoulder lightly, “You’re too hot to be­– to be such a downer, maybe a smile would help.”

Completely unamused and slowly shuffling back away from him, “I think I’d prefer you just leave me alone; I’m not interested.”

“Don– don’t be like that,” he sulks at you.

Your back collides with someone’s front and looking up you can see it’s your missing stalker of the night. As annoyed at Geto as you are, you are endlessly thankful for his timing, physically feeling yourself relax now that he’s here.

Geto glares down at the pushy guy, “She’s not interested.”

“Oh man, I didn’t know she had– had a boyfriend, you know you should keep an eye on her,” the drunk idiot leers at you, “She’s kind of a tease, leading me on,” he shrugs.

Your face grimaces at his words and the way he eyes you, feeling incredibly uncomfortable. Suguru moves in front of you, shielding you from him, his lip twitches at this guy’s words, “Excuse me?”

“No, well… I jus mean she didn’t tell me­–”

“–She said she wasn’t interested, that was enough,” Geto’s tone is growing more irritated by the moment.

“Suguru, let’s just go, it’s fine,” you tug on the hem of his jacket, not really wanting to have to deal with the fallout of whatever may happen if this idiot keeps unwittingly provoking Geto. He tries his best, but he has a breaking point, and he tends to hit it pretty quick when you’re involved.

He glances back at you, “It’s not fine.”

“Okay, it’s not but I kinda can’t stand this guy and this party sucks and I’m annoyed, and I don’t wanna be here anymore,” you feel a little pathetic for whinging but you’re so drained and this guy was your breaking point.

All his attention drops from that guy to you, his hands coming up to either side of your face, taking in how tired you look. Thumbs stroking high on your cheekbones, “Alright, let’s leave.”

Relief in your bones at the fact you’re about to be gone from here, “Thank you.”

From behind Geto you can see the drunk take the opportunity to slip away, apparently smart enough to use this distraction to his advantage. If Geto notices, he doesn’t say anything, clearly done with him, all attention on you now.

He hums at you, asking, “How’d you get here?”

Your eyes flick back to his, “I didn’t drive, if that’s what you’re asking,” you took an uber, you thought you’d either catch a ride with Shoko, or you’d take another uber home.

“You’re riding with me then.” His large hand takes yours, “Come on,” he’s tugging you through the house behind him.

The car ride has been quiet, you can feel your head drooping and your eyes closing, very nearly falling asleep. That is until, you notice Geto isn’t taking you to your house, instead heading towards his.

Turning to face him, you ask, “Why are we going back to yours?”

Without turning to look at you, he replies, “Because you’ve been avoiding me, so I am now forcing you to spend time with me.”

He’s decidedly not funny. Sighing as you try to chide him, “Suguru–”

Finally glancing your way only to speak over you, “–Don’t ‘Suguru’ me, my place is closer and you’re tired, if you weren’t being so weird around me ever since I k–”

“–Shhh, be quiet.” Your cheeks suddenly feel warm at the memory of how insistent his kisses were.

“All I’m saying is, if you weren’t being so weird around me, you’d come back to mine tonight anyways.”

It’s frustrating to you that he’s right, you normally would just go back to his and crash in his bed and then you’d make him breakfast the next morning to make up for the fact that you’d taken up his whole bed.

The only thing you can think to say is a flat, “…Fine.” Crossing your arms and looking out the car window the rest of the short drive.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Back at his apartment, he lends you some clothes to sleep in. It’s all incredibly intimate, showering in his bathroom, using the spare toothbrush you keep here, wearing his clothes, has your friendship always been this intimate or are you just looking at it in a new light.

Leaving his bathroom, you find him in his room, getting his bed ready for you to sleep in, you stand awkwardly at the foot of it, “I’ll just sleep on your couch.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you always sleep in the bed with me.”

“Yeah but…” Your brows settle into a deep frown, “Do you not feel weird?”

He drops the blanket back onto the bed, exasperation with you clear, “I said to you – I wouldn’t let it affect our friendship, and that’s what I’m doing.” Turning to look at you before adding, “You’re the one making it weird.”

“I know that…” You also know that you were the one who said you weren’t worried about him.

His arms are crossed as he looks you over, “I’m gonna shower now, you don’t have to sleep in the bed, but I think you should, you know firsthand how awful that couch is.”

“Go have your shower,” you shoo him out of the room, standing in the middle of it, alone, considering what you should do.

The couch really is atrocious, it’s part of the reason why you started sleeping in his bed when you visited. He always says he’ll get a nicer couch or a blow-up mattress for you, but he never does, and you always end up in his bed anyways.

Deciding you’re too drained to think any harder about all of this, you crawl into his bed and make yourself comfortable. Everything is so frustrating to you right now, have you always felt this confused about your friendship or were the lines blurred for so long that you’re having trouble understanding where you both stand.

The irony of the situation is annoying and almost laughable because if it were about anyone else you’d be hitting up Geto and asking for his advice on it all.

When he comes back into the room, he shuffles around a bit before turning off the lights and getting into bed beside you. You’re lying on your side with your back to him, pretending to already be asleep.

His voice cuts through the quiet of the room, “I miss you.”

Your reaction to it is almost visceral, how are you meant to reply to that. It doesn’t help you feel better at all, only leaving you longing for something you don’t know if you’re allowed to claim.

Your friendship has always been on a precarious ledge but it’s only now that you let yourself acknowledge the disgusting depth of your feelings for him.

You mumble into the pillow, “I’m right here.”

“Then why do you feel so far away?”

Readjusting, you rotate so you’re facing him, not completely prepared for him to already be facing you. Propped up on his elbow, closer than your poor heart was ready for. You lower your head, so you don’t have to look at his face, “I wasn’t purposefully ignoring you, I really did want to reply.”

He pushes, “So why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t know what to say…”

“What can I do to help?” He lowers himself down to your level, head on his bicep.

You still avoid his gaze, “Nothing, you can’t do anything.”

“You’re being–”

“–You are the problem, Suguru, there is nothing you can do to help but get out of my head,” you meet his eyes, frown prominent on your face, “You and your stupid kiss, you made it all a thousand times worse for me.”

“Making out with me was so life changing that you can’t get it out of your head, and you’re annoyed at me for that? You’re the one who wanted to know what it was like.” He’s trying to keep his tone light-hearted but he’s struggling, seemingly growing more irritated by it all.

You grumble at him, discontent, “You don’t need to point out the obvious, stupid.”

A noise of disagreement comes from him, “Well, I feel like I kinda do, since you’re overreacting.”

“I am not overreacting.”

“You are though.”

“No because it’s not just…” you stop short, “…Whatever, I’m going to sleep so be quiet.” He smiles at you like you’re completely endearing, which only frustrates you further.

“The only reason you would be this annoyed is because you want to kiss me again, or more…” his hand reaches for your chin and tilts your head up towards him, “You tell me, are you still curious?”

“Shut up,” you huff out, going to move away only for his hand to slide to your cheek, holding you still.

“You haven’t asked me, you know.”

“What?”

“What if I want to kiss you again? What if I want to do more?” His forehead rests against yours, “You’ve been so caught up in your own head, acting like an idiot over this, that you’ve not even asked yourself about what I want.”

“I am not an idiot.”

“No, but you’ve certainly been acting like one.” His hand slides from your face, down the side of your body, landing on your hip. “At first I thought it was cute, the curiosity, the unawareness,” his hand tugs you in closer to him, body against yours. “But now… now I’m growing impatient.”

Your head feels fuzzy, pressed up against him and that seems to be the only thing your brain is processing right now, “I’m confused.”

“It’s really quite simple,” he leans in, lips ghosting against yours.

You want so badly to kiss him, breath catching in your chest at the way his lips tickle against yours. Your attention solely on the way he might kiss you.

“You like me, and while it’s endearing to watch you fumble your way through the realisation, it’s killing me to know you’re all caught up on how I kissed you and not even being able to get in contact with you.”

“What? What?” Your brain takes a second to catch up, “I do not– you can’t know– just– what?”

“I can know, you know how? Because you’re painfully obvious about it. So honest, telling me about how you’re thinking of me, not able to look at me without looking at my lips,” a light laugh leaves him at your expression, “And it’s sweet, really. But I’m getting annoyed by the fact that you’re so obsessed with your own feelings that you’ve failed to consider mine.”

He’s giving you so much whiplash right now, “You–”

“–You think I kissed you like that just ‘cause?” He frowns at you, “I kissed you like that because I wanted to, I feel I was a little obvious about it all actually.”

“I’ve been so worried about ruining our friendship,” you feel so pathetic when you say it.

“I know,” he presses a kiss to your forehead, “But I’ve hoped for nothing more.” He sighs, “I wanted you to come to me on your own, to talk to me about it but instead you hid from me.”

“What was I supposed to think? Through my eyes, I was stupid and asked you to kiss me just because I was thinking about it, only to not stop thinking about it, and then realise I like you, my friend.” You pull back from him slightly, “How was I meant to talk to you about it?”

“You think I’d kiss just any friend because they simply wondered about what it would be like?” his brow lifts at you, “Don’t you think our friendship has always been a little too intimate to just be a friendship?”

“Nothing was ever said… how was I supposed to know?”

“Okay, well, let me be perfectly clear,” he tugs you in close again, eyes meeting yours, like he’s going to say something incredibly important, only to plant his lips on yours in a full kiss.

Hand holding you to him tight, like he needs you to stay pressed up against him. His mouth on yours hot and consuming, kiss messy, tongue licking at yours. An involuntary moan gets caught in your chest and your hand moves to his hair, tangling in it.

Parting to pant out, “I like you–” kissing you again, “I like kissing you–” lips desperate against yours, “I want to do so much more–” he never parts from you long at all, barley willing to but needing to get his words out.

This is a feeling that you’re never going to be able to forget, the first time he kissed you overwhelming enough and now it’s like he’s completely following his instinct. No critical thinking happening in his head or yours. All your thoughts wash away from you, slipping through your fingers before it even occurs to you to form a thought.

Less scared now, throwing caution to the wind, not worrying about how you should stop, how you can’t ruin the fragility of your friendship. It doesn’t matter anymore, not when he already knows how you feel, not when he seems to feel the same, not when it feels this good.

He mumbles against you, “That clear enough?”

“No,” you huff back, “I think… I’m still a little confused.”

“Well, in that case,” he smirks before kissing you again.

Hand moving to your thigh, sliding it across your skin before grabbing at your knee and crooking your leg to rest on his hip. Leaning into you slightly, using his weight to push back on you, rolling the pair of you until he’s on top. Forearm holding himself over you, other hand still on your knee, holding you flush to him.

You gasp up at him when his erection ruts into your core, lips parting messily, spit connecting the two of you. A shudder runs down his spine when he looks down at you, at how you’re looking up at him. All big, wet eyes and kiss swollen lips, it’s like he feels all his insides softening for you in that moment, in the most sickeningly affectionate way.

His eyes suddenly look lost, and you don’t know why, going to say something only for his lips to land on yours again. Short, firm kisses planted on your lips over and over again, barely able to return them before he’s pulling back, just to do it again.

It’s sweet but it’s frustrating you, your hands are eventually grabbing at either side of his face and forcing his mouth onto yours, lips meshing together, kissing him fully. Tongue in his mouth, your arms wrapping around his neck, fingers playing with his hair. He moans at how you’rekissing him, at how both your legs are now wrapped around his waist.

Practically clinging to him, lips locked to his, your need making your body hot and head fuzzy. You’re trying so hard to not come across desperate for him, but you really can’t help the way your hips seek out his, grinding up into him.

His voice shakes with a moan, breaking the kiss, “–Ohh fuck – hah –” a breathless kind of laugh leaving him, "A little eager, aren’t you?"

"Should we stop then?” You ask with a smile, hands untangling and pushing at his shoulders.

He rushes out, “No no, I didn’t say that,” he pulls your arms, so they’re wrapped around his neck again, “Come back,” a light laugh leaves him, pressing kisses all over your face, lingering on your lips.

“So… you don’t want to stop?”

“Absolutely not, be as needy as you want,” he looks down between where his hips are resting against yours, his cock twitching in his pants, “Hell… be needier.”

“I don’t know… maybe this is all happening too fast,” you say it light heartedly, teasing him, “I mean… we are just friends.”

“Just friends?” He takes personal issue with that, even if he can tell you’re goading him, “Just friends but you’re grinding your pussy all over me?” His hand slips into the front of your borrowed sleep shorts, two fingers rubbing between your folds over your panties.

Gasp leaving you, chest stuttering, “S-Suguru, I–”

“Letting your friend touch you like this, hmm?” He pulls your panties to the side, “Fuck– this wet for your friend?”

Your back arches against the bed when his fingers slip over your clit, struggling to get your words out, “I– mmph– I get it, m’sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” He smiles sweetly at you but two of his fingers are slipping inside you, quirking up and rubbing at just the right spot.

God, your eyes roll into the back of your head, cunt pulsing around his fingers so needily. Hands grabbing at him, tangling in his long hair, gasping for air you don’t really need but feeling like you can’t breathe from how he’s touching you.

“What are you sorry for, pretty?” He wants you back on track, he wants to hear you stumble out your apology to him.

“I-I’m sorry – hnnn – f-for…” your mouth drops open in a moan when his thumb rubs at your clit, “You’re not jus– you’re not just my friend – oh! You’re more– you mean more– Ah! Ah!” You can’t think, not when he adds another finger to your pussy, stretching you so open.

He leans in, fingers not stopping, “You mean it?”

It’s a question made to tease you but with your gooey brain, you look up at him so earnestly and answer, “Mhm, yeah.” Nodding your head firmly at him, even when your eyes look so fucked out.

Soft squelching noises fill the room with how his fingers fuck into you, your cunt clamping tight down around them. Walls so hot and wet that it’s driving him crazy, imagining how it would feel to have you wrapped so snug around his neglected cock.

He wants so badly to rip off your pants, so he can see just how well you’re taking his fingers but you’re pulsing so rhythmically around him, and your eyes roll with how good you feel, making the nicest expressions for him that he can’t even tear his eyes away from your face if he wanted to.

“Oh, you’re really cute right now,” he leans in and presses a kiss to your cheek, his heart stammering at how your wet eyes sparkle at him, at how your bottom lip wobbles.

Pouting up at him, “You don’t– ah! think– think I’m cute all the time?”

“I think you’re downright adorable all the time,” he laughs airily, “But especially right now,” he’s gazing so intently at your face, “Because, I’m pretty sure…” his thumb speeds up on your clit, “…You’re about to cum all over my fingers.”

Oh, how his words effect you so deeply, his tone, the cockiness and if he weren’t touching you so right you wouldn’t find it as arousing as you do but you feel like you could cry from just how overwhelming it all is.

Shaking your head at him as if to say ‘no, you’re not about to cum.’  

“No?” He pouts at you mockingly, “You sure?”

Denying it really doesn’t get you anywhere, especially since he can feel how you tighten around his fingers, how your gooey cunt pulses for him. Your back arching meanly, legs wanting so badly to kick against the air. Hand tugging at his hair as you gasp, broken moans leaving you.

“I mustn’t be doing this right then,” he hums at you in thought, slowing his movements slightly, “Should I stop then? Change up what I’m doing?”

The thought of him stopping now, or changing what he’s doing kills you, almost literally. Your eyes widen and you shake your head vehemently at him, “Don’t stop– hnn– don’t– please,” begging him with your eyes.

“Only ‘cause you begged so nicely,” his tone so sweet on you.

He doesn’t change anything, keeps fucking you with his fingers in the way that’s driving you crazy. His mouth waters at how your pussy gushes for him, dick leaking into his pants, losing his fucking mind at how he’s able to finally touch you like this, how you’re letting him touch you like this, even begging for it.

Muscles pulling taut, hearing and sight going fuzzy, “I– ohh– Sugu I can’t– I’m gonna–”

“You can,” dragging it out in a singsong, “Doing so well for me, pretty.”

Biting on your lip to hold back all the moans tumbling from them, hands pulling at him as you struggle to breathe through it. Chest stuttering as your cunt clamps down around his fingers, pulling him closer to you and planting your lips on his, desperately kissing him as you cum all over his fingers. Tongue licking into his mouth, his own moans spilling into the kiss.

Panting against your open mouth to say, “Just came all over your friends’ fingers,” his smile taunting and bright.

Your head lolls to the side, “So you really do just like teasing me, huh?”

“Pretty sure I said I couldn’t help it,” his fingers slip from your core, sucking them into his mouth, licking them clean in a display so obscene that your skin feels warm.

If he were a lesser man, he’d cum from licking himself clean, groaning around his fingers, mostly for himself but also somewhat to embarrass you. Loving how you squirm, and your face pulls up in embarrassment. All dazed and stupid looking from your orgasm, it makes his heart skip and his dick jerk.

You shock him when you tug your shirt up and over your head, moving to pull at his but he’s too distracted by your tits to make any move other than to lean down and press wet kisses all over your chest.

“Suguru– hah– your shirt,” your fingers still pull at the fabric.

“You can’t–” he sucks and licks at your nipple, relishing in the reactions and sounds he’s pulling from you, “–You can’t show me your tits and expect me to not touch them.”

When he looks up at you, his eyes are lazy and dazed, his tongue drooling all over your boobs. Moving to plant more firm and wet kisses all over your unbelievably soft skin, sucking to leave behind his mark. Wanting to leave behind marks that he will see when he wakes up tomorrow, marks that he will leave marks over so that they never go away, so he will always have evidence of how he touched you. Of how you let him touch you.

Groping at all your exposed skin, pulling at you, fingers tugging at your nipple, while he salivates all over the other one. Your legs tug his hips down into yours, rubbing your clothed cunt all over him, wanting him to fuck you so badly. He’s working you up so unfairly, already making you cum and then playing with your tits in a way that has you itching to be full of his dick.

“Suguru,” he ruts his hips back down into you but doesn’t remove his mouth from you, so you pull at his hair harshly, “Please.”

He moans at how you pull at him, eyes lidded, “So demanding.”

“You’re taking too long.”

He tuts at you, nipping lightly at the skin between your tits, “You’re just impatient.”

“Yeah, I am,” untangling your legs from him, you shuffle your shorts and panties down and off your body, “Are you going to help?”

“How can I refuse when you ask like that?” The desire to lick at your pussy, make out with your cunt, is huge but with how you look at him, so needy and impatient, he needs to shove his dick in you. Now.

When you go to tug at his shirt, he lets you, letting you pull it off him completely, goose bumps breaking out across his skin with how you rake your nails delicately over him. The affection he holds for you feels like it grows tenfold at how you look at him, how tenderly you touch him.

“You’re so pretty,” you’re mumbling it out at him before you’re really registering that you’ve thought it, let alone spoke it.

His head drops into the crook of your neck, “So sweet on me, got me forgetting why I waited so long to say anything.”

You grin at him, “Because you’re stupid.”

“Oh, that’s right,” he sneers back at you before shuffling back to pull his pants off. Finding immense joy in how your smug little smile drops from your face when his cock is free, tip flushed a pretty pink and leaking profusely, precum dribbling down the sides of his dick.

Moving to get up before even really thinking about it, wanting to touch him. Only to fall into the pillows when his large hand pushes you back by your sternum. Looking to him just as he leans in, lips brushing yours so softly you’d think you’d imagined it if he didn’t immediately follow it up with a firm kiss.

“I want to touch you,” hands already finding their way back to his shoulders, his long hair tickling against skin.

His head is dipping low to watch how he moves his hands down your body, brushing against your inner thighs, opening your legs for him more, “Well, I want to fuck you.” He’s not capable of taking his eyes off your gooey cunt, so wet for him.

Goading him with your words, “What are you waiting for? A formal invitation?”

“Sharp tongue for someone so sensitive,” he muses, fingers slipping through your folds, gently over your clit to make you jolt, as if to prove his point.

Not giving you a chance to say another snarky comment, his fingers dipping into your hole again, fingers stretching you open obscenely, pulling back covered in cum from your previous orgasm and fresh slick. It’s almost embarrassing how soaked you are, at least it would be if he didn’t seem almost overjoyed at the sight.

His hand covered in your mess moves to his dick, stroking himself, lubing himself so you can take him easier. Wanting to rub your thighs together, to squirm at how he languidly pumps at his cock, how his brows upturn and his mouth gapes slightly.

Palm warm against your inner thigh, holding you still, moving so he can tap his dick against your clit, smiling at how your body jerks.

“Don’t be a tease,” your hand moves for his, but he grabs at you before you reach him, looping his fingers with yours.

His tone is cheerful and bright, “But you look so cute when you’re frustrated.”

“I’ll leave,” you threaten, not even a little convincingly, way too horny to be taken seriously.

“Really?” He raises a brow at you, intrigued, “I don’t think you’d get very far,” mocking pout settling on his features.

Nothing if not stubborn and true to your word, you push him back and roll to get out of the bed defiantly. Barely making it to the edge of the mattress when his hands are on your sides and manhandling you back into your previous position. Spreading your legs wide and rubbing the tip of his cock through your folds, just dipping into your hole before repeating the previous movements.

Biting his lower lip as he watches, his precum smearing all over your messy cunt, “Told you, you wouldn’t get very far.”

Your head rolls at how he dips his dick in more, beginning to stretch you open, his hips stuttering forwards, hand slapping down onto the bed beside you to stop himself from pushing you too far.

“Oh– oh– fuck! How­– h-how are you this tight, oh,” breathless not even beginning to describe how fucked out he already sounds.

“M-more, Sugu, please– I–”

At your insistence, he fucks himself all the way in, holding his hips to yours as he fills you to the hilt. Your pussy spasming and creaming around him, so worked up that he can feel just how aroused you are in the way you twitch, at how your fingers grab at his skin, how your breath is uneven and broken.

He can’t help but marvel at how you let out little squealed moans, how your cunt stretches to take all of him. On cloud nine at how you’re so horny over how heavy he’s sitting inside you that you’re close to tears.

The moan he lets out is debauched, unbelievably turned on when your hips struggle to grind down into him needily, working yourself up to an orgasm so fucking fast that he can’t do anything but watch in awe.

You can’t stop yourself, you know you should, should slow down and maybe calm down but it feels so good. He’s so big inside you, his cock pulsing in a way that has you memorising the thumping rhythm. Not usually so eager, never this eager, enthusiastically rutting down into him over and over again before suddenly cumming all over him.

Choked and gasped moans pulled from you as your hands reach for him, hoping for him to let you tug him down into you but he’s too busy watching how you pulse and cum all over him. Obsessed with how your cute, little cunt struggles with his size as you coat him in all your creamy cum.

“Holy fuck,” he laughs, “That was–”

Head dizzy and eyes lazy as you whinge at him, “–Don’t– don’t say anything.”

“You came as soon as I got inside you and you expect me to make no comment?”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“I think it was adorable,” he hums, voice strained, much more effected by it than he’s willing to let on.

You whine when he leans down into you, cock somehow reaching deeper. Geto’s arms cage you in either side your head, resting on his forearms, his lips against yours in a breathless kiss. Beginning shallow thrusts, his lips insistent on yours, fucking you so carefully for now.

Quickly, the need to have him fucking you stupid grows within you again and your legs loop around him properly, pulling him into you, wrapping yourself around him, mouth panting against his.

“Fuck– hah– you’re so wet,” he’s fucking into you faster, hips becoming desperate, “It’s actually– it’s– hnn– it’s crazy how good you feel,” he moves his head to the crook of your neck, growling beside your ear, “such a soaked little cunt, taking it so– ohh– taking it so good.”

“Ah! Ah! Sugu, it’s– ohh– it’s– more– I need more,” your fingers dig into his back, depraved wet sloshing sounds of him fucking into you so well fill the room.

He nips at your neck, “Demanding little thing aren’t you?”

He’s pulling out of you and the moan you let out is small and pathetic, disgruntled by his abrupt movement. The last thing you see is his smug grin before he’s flipping you over onto your stomach, hands pulling your hips up and pushing on your upper back, manoeuvring your body into an obscene arch.

Taking his sweet time to slip back inside, eyeing up your pussy and how your hole trembles and drools for him. Your hips wriggle back at him and he finds himself incredibly amused at how blatantly needy you are, apparently honest with him in more ways than one.

Just as you were about to turn around and complain at how long he’s taking to re-enter you, he’s shoving his cock back in all at once, jolting your body up the bed and forcing a moan out from your lungs.

“Ohh– Sugu– I…” you trail off as his hips pick up, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Sliding your legs further apart to take more of him inside, arching yourself even more, greedy cunt sucking him deep inside. He’s barely able to withdraw before you’re fucking your hips back into him, desperately driving back, so fucking needy that if you had half your mind you’d be embarrassed but right now all you can think about is how his dick thumps against your walls, how his hands grip onto you tight, probably leaving behind marks to match the ones he left all over your tits.

Mouth gaping open, spit pooling onto the pillow below, drooling over his cock, God, you could cry from just how fucking good it feels. Pussy spasming wildly around him, the more you think about the fact that he’s fucking you, the more worked up you get. Insides flipping at how he seems to touch the most perfect spots inside you, full of butterflies and him.

His mouth by your ear shocks you, his voice chirpy, “What are you – hah – thinking about, pretty?”

“A-about how goo– good it feels, feels– ohh– feels so good, Sugu,” your words are slurred, mind reeling at how he doesn’t even seem to slow his pace.

“Flatterer,” he barks out a laugh, “You’re quite the little charmer,” he mockingly compliments, tongue licking meanly at your salty tears that you hadn’t realised you’d shed.

“Shh– shut up– ah!” gasping when he gives a particularly mean thrust into you.

He can’t help but smile at the fucked out look you’re wearing, eyes rolled back, dazed and not comprehending anything other than his dick rubbing up against your walls so perfectly. Your face turns into the pillow and you bite at it, muscles pulling tight as another orgasm crawls up your spine.

It shocks you, how quickly you cum, Suguru’s harsh thrusts, your ass burning with the smack of his pelvis against you. The sting biting at your flesh making you feel like you’re on fire, cunt tight around him and orgasm overcoming you so fast that you don’t have time to prepare for it.

And maybe if he hadn’t been caught up in how deliciously you squeeze around him, he’d have time to realise you were coming again and he could stop himself but when you shock the both of you with your sudden orgasm he whines into your back and cums deep inside you. Shivers running down his spine at how it feels, dumping so much deep inside you that the force of his continued thrusts has some of it leaking from you back onto him and down onto the bed, making the obscenest mess he’s ever seen.

Immediately he’s pulling himself back up to see how he’s coated your walls white, his dick covered in your shared cum, creamy and lewd and he’s not even going soft because how could he when you’re still wrapped so warmly around him and when you’re so fucking gooey and snug. He might die before he’s done fucking you yet and he can’t even find it in himself to care even a little bit.

You’re not capable of forming words together enough to think of making a sentence, only thing coming from you being your garbled, choked moans and the sounds of your plushy cunt struggling to take him and all his cum. Pussy bulging with the weight of his cock and the mass amounts of seed he’s just pumped you full of.

His own eyes are lidded and low, pussy drunk and loving every second of it, “So turned on you couldn’t even warn me before you came,” he bites out.

His hand rounds your body and his fingers land on your clit, the overstimulation too much, one of your own hands moving down to try and pry it away, managing to squeak out, “T-too much– ah! Too much, Sugu.”

Tone light when his harsh words are mumbled back at you, “If it’s too much, then why – hnn – why are you fucking back onto me like such a slut?”

He’s so mean, so mean to you while he fucks you so… meanly. Head whirling over how he speaks to you, not even able to think long before he slaps your clit harshly and your knees buckle, falling into the mattress under him. His dick slipping from you as you collapse into the mattress.

Geto doesn’t pick you back up straight away, oh no, because you’re leaking all of his cum out of your little hole onto the bed and he can’t take his eyes off of how much cum he managed to get inside you. It’s you who picks your hips up lazily, presenting yourself for him.

He chuckles at your loyalty to his cock, but he also can’t help the way the sight makes him twitch. Shoving his dick into you again, feral in his pursuit to fuck you, to fuck you full of more of his cum.

“S-so devoted– hnnn– doing such­– hah– a good job for me, pretty,” he slurs.

You feel like you might pass out, so lightheaded but meeting each and every one of his thrusts all the same. An arm wrapping around your front pulls your back to his chest, both his hands landing on your tits, fingers pinching and rolling your nipples, making your pussy shudder around him.

You want to fuck your hips back recklessly but not able to with this angle, only able to arch further and give shallow grinds while he fucks his hips into you. He plants kisses and bites along your neck, nipping your skin hard enough that you twitch and whine each time he does it.

One hand leaves your tit and trails down your front, going for your cunt, spreading wide around where he’s stuffing you full continuously. Getting an absolute mess all over his hand and fingers, only to shove those fingers into your mouth, leaving you to lick him clean. Crammed full by his dick and fingers at once, convulsing around him at the thought of it, at the reality of it.

“You like being stuffed full, huh?” He muses to you, an evil kind of joy in his tone. You don’t get to choose your own response, he’s already using the fingers he has in your mouth to nod your head yes, “Ah, thought so.”

Pulling his fingers from your mouth slowly to watch how you suck on them as he does, before he’s wiping all your spit down your chest to your tummy. And then he has another hand on the back of your neck and is pushing you down into the pillows again, this time he keeps his hand there while he fucks into you diabolically.

Somehow faster than before, relentless, reaching his own end and wanting you to cum all over him at least once more. Head dipping back as he groans out, thrusts harsh and calculated, hitting all the spots he’s just learnt about, having memorised just how to make you fucking squirm for him.

Which he succeeds in, if he didn’t have the hand on the back of your neck, you would’ve crawled up the bed to try and get away from his evil thrusts. Poor abused pussy creaming around him for the fourth time, orgasm blinding you, only seeing white spots behind your eyelids.

The sounds he lets out are wrecked and beautiful and have you wishing that you weren’t cumming so violently if only to see the way he’s spilling inside you for the second time tonight.

“That’s it– fuck– take it– taking it so fucking well– holy fuck–” every word he utters is breathless and broken, essentially fucking himself stupid too.

Taking a moment for himself to catch his breath before he’s slipping from you and pulling your ass cheeks apart to watch how his cum dribbles from your overfilled cunt. You try to wiggle away but he holds you steady, eyes trained on your dipping hole, overcome with the desire to fuck his tongue inside you but instead settling for shoving two fingers inside, plugging your hole to keep his cum in.

You whine at him, and he can only chuckle and find you incredibly cute in your post orgasm bliss. Barely able to keep your eyes open, let alone speak right now.

He does eventually pull his fingers from you, wiping the mess on your thighs before turning you onto your back. It feels like you’re looking up at an angel as he looks down at you, or maybe the devil, all flush and sweet smiles, too sweet for a man that just fucked you within an inch of your life.

“Y-you can’t smile at me like that, not after you almost killed me,” you babble back at him.

He rolls his eyes at you, “There you go overreacting again.”

“You fuck so mean, Sugu,” you accuse… accurately.

A smile grows on his face again, “Feels real good though, doesn’t it?”

You weakly slap at him, he just grabs your hand and tugs your body into his kneeling form, hugging you to him. Pressing kisses all over your face, “Think you can stand long enough to shower?”

Shaking your head at him, “Not without fainting.”

“Alright, bath it is,” he concludes.

He takes such nice care of you afterwards, a complete contrast to how he fucked you. It’s lovely though, the hands that grabbed and pulled at you now delicate as they trace over your skin, washing you clean.  

You rest with your back to his front in the bath, head laying lazily on his chest, “So… for the sake of clarity, we’re not just friends?”

His lips tickle against the tip of your ear, “I can fuck you all over again if you need more proof?”

“I fear you might actually kill me.”

“Then I guess you’ll just have to take my word for it,” he presses a single kiss against your cheek.

In the morning, for the first time ever, he makes you breakfast, to make up for all the marks he’s littered your body with. He also officially asks you on a date, which you pretend to think really hard about even though you’d already decided you were going to say yes.

In the end, being friends with Geto Suguru wasn’t hard… it’s just not what you both wanted.

𝐀/𝐍: this was a while in the making and the vibes of it changed so many times throughout 😭 it was supposed to be situationship but i fear i'm not well versed enough in what exactly one is to write about it properly.... anyways ! i hope you enjoyed regardless and thank you for reading !!! <3

[⚠︎] — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works © all works are the intellectual property of lovelivision

[queenimmadolla]

𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

(eddie munson x pregnant!reader)

Summary: You and Eddie discuss your current pregnancy craving...or, in which you want something not all that common of a craving and ridiculously difficult to get a hold of, and Eddie teases you over it even though you both know he's going to get it for you.

warnings: references to baby making activities.

a/n: those damn tiktoks keep getting to me. lil drabble. more dad!eddie here. masterlist.

Pregnancy was not something Eddie Munson believed he would ever understand. Wasn’t something he thought he’d have to do.

  Until—at the very responsible age of twenty─he took to finishing inside of you and one of his swimmers took. Played hide-and-seek for a good five months before either of you knew she was there.

  You hadn’t started showing until about two or three weeks after finding out, and now at almost seven months, you had the cutest baby bump Eddie couldn’t keep his hands off, a ravenous hunger for the most peculiar things and absolutely no tolerance for the weirdest fucking things; the sound of kernels popping made you want to throw up, and so did the scent of baked goods and the ‘air on Tuesdays’ (Eddie was still trying to work that one out).

  Whatever you wanted, Eddie got you. Albeit, with tons of questions asked. Like, right now.

  It was late in the evening, chilly throughout the trailer but warm in the room thanks to the trusty space heater Eddie had had for years. The both of you had traded your day clothes for pajamas, so you were in one of his t-shirts and nothing else while he was only clad in a pair of sweats because his body temperature always ran a little on the hot side, and you were curled right up to him. Your head had been previously nuzzling into the crook of his neck, placing kisses over the tendons there and nosing along his jaw but now it was craned back, batting those pretty eyelashes up at him with pleading eyes and a pout.

  “Pleeeaaaaase, Eddie?”

  “Branzino.” Eddie repeated your request with amused disbelief.

  “It’s low in mercury, so I can eat it.”

  “Branzino.”

  “It’s what she wants!” You chirped, moving a hand to rest over your growing bump. Baby Munson, your little Penny, had recently learned she had legs and could stretch them out in there. Despite the two of you settling down, she seemed to be filled with energy; you could feel her moving around, targeting certain areas with her kicks. She’d been pretty still for a good hour or two so you thought she might have woken up from a nap. 

  “Yeah?” Eddie asked, quirking his brows with lidded eyes, so engrossed with how caring you were for his baby already. 

  Witnessing you go from awkwardly acknowledging her existence with a pat or uncertain conversation to almost always having a hand over your bump, as if to protect her from a threat while talking to her as though she was already cradled in your arms, had Eddie always so tender with emotion. 

  He was so proud and in love.

  You hummed in confirmation and when Eddie’s hand moved your (his) shirt up, you immediately grasped his wrist to place his palm over the area your baby’s foot was currently pressing up against. Eddie grinned as he felt the movement just under the warmth of your skin, firm and held surprisingly long before it retreated and he rubbed over the area as you relaxed further into him.

  “She was stretching.” He correctly deduced. 

  “Mhm, she’s been kicking the heck out of my ribcage, so I think her head is right here.” You placed your free hand over your bump, just under your left breast, “She only got active after we showered, so she just woke up.”

  Eddie felt a little guilty about that, it had probably been him railing you against the shower wall that stirred her from her slumber.

  “Sorry, sweet pea.” He mumbled, continuing to rub your belly if not somewhat more apologetic, “I’m just so excited that I can’t get your mom pregnant right now, ‘cause we already have you, and she’s just so horn—“

  Eddie laughed as you delivered a swift whack to his chest with the back of your hand, fighting a smile as he teased you through an attempt to talk to your baby.

  “Excuse me, you were the one trying to feel me up on the couch!”

  “No, I did feel you up. And if I recall correctly, which I do, it was my fingers you were cum—“

  “Distracting!” You pointed an accusatory finger in his face, booping the tip of his nose with it, “You’re trying to distract me. Branzino.”

  “Ugh,” Eddie sagged into the pillows, but the smirk on his face told you you’d be getting exactly what you wanted, like always. He just liked to give you a hard time. Banter with you was like foreplay to him. “Alright, alright. Since you must have your fish dish─”

  “I must,” You placed the back of your hand against your forehead as you fell dramatically back into the pillows.

  “And since she’s craving it─”

  “She wants branzino so badly and I’d get it for her myself but I’m utterly exhausted─no, not because we had sex,” You had immediately clocked the grinch like twist in his smirk at your mentioning of exhaustion, “I’ll have you know I probably made a good chunk of her brain today. That takes energy. Dedication. And she probably sucked the bone marrow out of me to do it, or something.”

  Eddie threw his head back and howled with laughter. You giggled along with him but tried to reason, “Okay, I’m not being completely dramatic, though! She really does steal some of my own body to make hers! I could lose my teeth, Eddie. I read it in a book.”

  The bed shook with how hard Eddie was laughing and you delighted in being the reason behind it. Once he calmed down, his head lulled to the side, cheeks red from all that amusement and warm brown hues focused on you.

  “You read it in a book, huh?”

  “Yup.”

  “Ask your doctor about it?”

  “Nope.”

  “Why not?”

  “…’Cause I’m scared she’ll say it’s true.”

  You sent Eddie into another laughing fit. When he was done with that one, he launched himself out of bed and you snuggled into the spot he’d occupied—so warm and cozy—to watch him grab a shirt and hoodie from the closet, and his jacket from where he’d thrown it on the dresser. A beanie was shoved on his head and as he wrapped the scarf you’d gotten him around his neck, he eyed you with mirth twinkling in his pretty eyes.

  “Branzino in the middle of winter.”

  “It’s what she wants!”

  “It’s what she wants.” He conceded with a fond smile, “I’ll be back after like an hour and a half of driving around to find a Greek place open so you can replenish your bone marrow with it somehow and grow the rest of her brain.”

  You hummed in appreciation, beaming at him as he neared you to lean over and get a thorough kiss goodbye. 

  “Thank you,” You mumbled shyly against his mouth.

  “You don’t have to thank me . . . but you’re welcome.” He teased.

  Driving around in the cold didn't seem all that terrible with you blowing him kisses from the bed, and his baby growing inside you. 

  That damn fish was so worth it.

[revasserium]

death before decaf

opla!zoro; 10,414 words; coffee shop/college!au, vague enemies to lovers, fencer!zoro, sports medicine!major reader, slightly ooc zoro (he's a bit more talkative), fluff and flirting, bff!robin, zoro makes the first move, zoro calling reader "princess", mutual pining, both reader and zoro are dumbasses, making out in locker rooms

summary: sanji and nami bet on how long it'll take you and zoro to finally crack over your caffeine-related discourse; or -- that one coffee!shop zoro au that literally no one asked for.

a/n: i keep on saying "this is the longest fic i've written to date" but this really is the longest fic i've written to date. and no, this will not be the only time zoro calls reader "princess" in one of my fics. trust.

one.

“How long did you say?”

“Two weeks, max.”

“Nah… you think?”

“Probably closer to a week. Week and a half.”

Sanji stubs out his cigarette on the bottom of his shoe before tossing the smoking nub into the bin, casting Nami a disbelieving look.

“They’ve been going on like this for like three months… and you think they’re gonna crack in the next week and a half? Nah, fam — I call bullshit.”

Nami shrugs, smirking, “Your funeral.”

Sanji scoffs as Nami pushes through the swinging double doors into the main body of the cafe, hitching a smile onto her face as she greets the customers already lined up in front of the counter.

“Yeah, whatever,” he mutters to himself, dusting his hands off on his apron before pushing in after her, putting on his best customer-service smile.

“Mornin’ folks! Welcome to the Straw Hats Cafe, where the coffee’s hot but the people are hotter — what can I get started for you, sweetheart?” he grins as he shoots you a wink and you flash him your best Colgate smile.

“Can I get a decaf latte with —”

“Oat milk, two pumps of caramel, and whipped cream on top? Oh — and a sprinkle of cinnamon cause you can’t have a fall latte without cinnamon, right?” Sanji finishes for you.

You nod, your cheeks flushed a bright, wind-kissed pink from the cold outside.

Behind you, a green-haired boy in a tight-fitting tee and no jacket scoffs under his breath, shaking his head.

“Yep! You know me so well,” you say, giggling and making a point to speak just a bit louder.

“Course I do, darlin’. It’s what I get paid for,” Sanji jots down your order and pushes it to the side where Nami’s already halfway done with making your drink.

“Ah, if it isn’t my favorite mosshead jock — lemme guess, double espresso, no sugar, no nothin’, right?” Sanji punches in the order just as Zoro makes his way up to the counter, his eyes narrowed.

“Yeah.”

Sanji grins, hiking an eyebrow, “Talkative as always, I see. Alright — that’d be —”

Zoro wordlessly slides a full punch card onto the counter and Sanji pauses.

“Ah — pardon me, I do believe that’s your free drink! You sure you wanna use it on an espresso? Maybe… you wanna try one of our seasonal specials? The maple spice latte’s one of our best —”

Zoro scoffs again, “I’m good. I like my coffee real, thanks.”

Down passed the pastries, you roll your eyes, making an exaggerated face as Nami hands you your drink with a grin.

“Y’know, if you guys just made out I feel like it would fix a lot of this unresolved tension,” she says, even as you nearly choke on your drink.

You’re still coughing when Zoro joins you by the finished drinks counter.

“I’d rather lose an eye than make out with someone who drinks decaf.”

Nami sighs, shooting you a meaningful look as she slides the double espresso toward Zoro.

You wipe your lips with a napkin before leveling him with a glare.

“Well I’d rather gouge my own eyes out than make out with someone who never grew out of his middle school emo-phase.”

“At least I don’t try to use sugar to fill the gaping hole in your life where a real personality should be.”

“At least I don’t make that gaping hole my entire personality.”

“Princess.”

“Edgelord.”

You turn resolutely away from Zoro and smile back at Nami and Sanji, both stealing glances at the pair of you even as they continue to handle the Monday morning rush.

“Thank you guys — I’m gonna be late for class.

Zoro tsks, taking a sip of his espresso.

“I’m gonna be late for practice.”

You huff, pivoting away from him towards the door, purposefully letting it swing shut behind you; Zoro swears as it almost makes him spill his coffee.

Back in the coffee shop, Sanji finishes another order just as Nami washes off her hands to take over at the cashier.

“One and a half weeks?” Sanji asks as he rolls up his sleeves and grabs a few metal cups for steamed milk.

“Yep,” Nami replies, shooting another look out the glass door where they can both still see your’s and Zoro’s silhouettes as you head towards the university campus, “Just about.”

“Alright then, you’re on.”

Nami’s smirk only grows, “Like I said — your funeral.”

two.

You’re fuming all the way to your first morning class — Bio-Organic Chemistry — that you don’t notice your friend Robin until she’s standing right next to you.

“Are you mad at your fencer-boy again?”

You roll your eyes, huffing out a breath, “He’s not my fencer-boy, and no. I’m not mad.”

Robin grins, “Your tone says different.”

You cast her a reproachful look, “I just… bumped into him at the coffee shop again.”

“Ah,” Robin says, her voice saturated with understanding.

You groan, “He just… pisses me off so much! Like, why’s he care how much sugar I put in my drinks or if I drink decaf? He’s just a muscle-head loser who thinks drinking espresso shots makes him somehow more manly or something. Ugh.”

Robin’s grin is amused when you turn to chance her a glance.

“Then… why do you care how he takes his coffee?” Her question is light, but you’ve known her for long enough to know when she’s teasing.

“I didn’t! At least… not until he made fun of my drink first. I mean, who does that anymore? We’re in college! Like, grow up!”

“Mm,” Robin hums, schooling her expression into one of careful consideration and marked compassion, “and of course, you’re just engaging in his… childish antics because he started it first, right?”

You sigh, cupping your very sugary latte between your palms as you both duck into the main lecture building, teaming with students shedding scarves and jackets, shaking off the late autumn chill.

“I know, I know it’s stupid but… he just… pisses me off so much!”

Robin chuckles, her smile distinctly sphinx-like as you press your lips into a pout.

“Well, we can talk about it after morning lecture, hm?”

You sigh and nod, waving her off as she heads down the hallway towards her Ancient Worlds class and you head upstairs for the sciences.

You spend the whole lecture in a mood and by the time you’re excused, your temples have started to throb.

But true to her word, you find Robin waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs, a thick leather-bound book clutched to her chest. You give her a questioning look.

“Just some light reading,” she says. You roll your eyes.

“Just say you’re a gigantic nerd and go.”

At this Robin laughs, falling into step next to you as you both start to make your way towards the dining commons.

“Have I ever denied that I was?”

You let out a noncommittal grunt.

Luckily, the commons isn‘t as crowded as it usually is and you both quickly find a seat.

“So,” Robin says as she slides into the seat next to you, propping up her chin on the heel of her hand. There’s a low, lilting tone to her voice that tells you there’s no getting out of it this time.

You sigh again, pursing your lips, staring down at your açaí bowl.

“So what?”

“Tell me about him.”

You scoff, “Not really much to tell — he’s… one of the fencers on the national team. So obviously, he’s got his own head shoved so far up his ass he can probably watch his own lunch dige—“

“So he’s quite good at fencing then.” Robin keeps her voice neutral, taking a contemplative bite of a banana.

“I guess — I mean we’re the top feeder school for the Olympic team, aren’t we?” You jab your spoon into the yogurt, nearly splattering Robin’s new book. She gently tucks it into her bag and motions for you to continue.

“I dunno, there’s not much to tell after that… he’s an arrogant jock who judges people by how they take their coffee,” and at this, you shove a large spoonful of yogurt and açaí into your mouth, glaring at nothing in particular.

“Doesn’t your practical applications class look after the fencing team?”

Again, you grunt, sinking a bit further into your seat at the thought.

“Yeah, I’ve been dreading that all morning, and the class isn’t till Wednesday.”

Robin’s smile is almost too academic as she carefully finishes her banana and gets started on an egg salad sandwich.

“It can’t be that bad, can it?”

You sniff, swallowing another huge mouthful of yogurt.

“It can,” you say, grimacing, “You should see the number of times I’ve had to hold back from dislocating his shoulder on purpose.”

Robin laughs her tinkling, all-knowing laugh, “Every day, I wake up glad to be on your whitelist.”

Your lips twitch into a reluctant grin.

“I’d be nicer too if I were as tall and pretty as you are. But since I’m not one of god’s strongest soldiers, I’ve gotta find other ways of defending myself, y’know?”

“I’m not sure what you do can be called ‘self-defense’ in a court of law but…” she smiles, “You shouldn’t sell yourself short either.”

You cast her a deadpan look, “But I am short. It’s like where 90% of my rage and spite come from.”

Robin grins, “You know that’s not what I meant.”

You make a rather childish face, but a comfortable warmth spreads from the center of your chest out towards all your extremities at Robin’s words. She cocks her head and continues.

“Plus… I’ve a creeping suspicion that your fencer-boy would agree that you’re prettier than you think.”

You freeze mid-swallow on your last spoonful of yogurt, eyes wide.

“Wait — what?”

Robin sighs, looking at you as if studying a particularly interesting monolith carved with all her favorite dead languages. You sit back, crossing your arms, feeling raw beneath her inquisitive gaze.

“You can’t still think that this little… feud you two have is purely based on a difference in coffee preference, can you?”

You realize you’re chewing on your bottom lip and force yourself to stop.

“I — I don’t know how it can be anything else though…” but even to your own ears, you sound distinctly unconvinced. Robin cocks her head.

“Think about it — when we were all little kids and running around on playground, which girls would get their pigtails pulled the most?”

Your frown deepens, “But we’re not kids anymore and this isn’t a play —“

“Yes, I know. Just humor me for a moment.”

You squirm in your seat, your heart thudding erratically in your rib cage, making you feel strangely breathless.

“It was… always the girls that the boys had a crush on,” you answer, your voice growing smaller with each word as the realization seeps into your skin like sunlight. And suddenly, it's too hot. The thought that Zoro might be doing this because he likes you isn’t something that’s crossed your mind. Or rather, it isn’t a thought you’d allowed to cross your mind.

“You know, boys aren’t technically considered ‘men’ until they’re in their mid-thirties,” Robin says, conversational and satisfied to have driven the point home to you. She leans back even as you reach up to press your face into the palms of your hands.

“But…” you try to grasp for some thread of logic that might be able to refute Robin’s claim but come up empty. She’s always been too smart for her own good. And yours.

When you finally lift your head again, it’s to find Robin still watching you, an oddly indulgent smile on her lips.

“C’mon,” she says, gathering her things, “don’t want you to be late for your next lecture.”

She has the audacity to wink as you hurriedly grab your stuff as well.

“Shut up,” you say, bumping her lightly with your elbow as you walk passed her, cheeks darkening with every step. Your next lecture, you both know, is the Nutrition of Sports — which is one of the few actual classes that you and Zoro actually share.

“Have fun in class!” Robin calls as you split ways outside the dining commons. You consider flipping her off but decide against it and opt to stick out your tongue at her instead.

Robin shakes her head, laughing quietly to herself. Really, she thinks, this is just starting to get interesting.

three.

You walk into Nutrition of Sports fully prepared to see Zoro slouched in his usual seat at the back of the class — except, he’s not there. You blink; he’s always been there, always early despite what others might assume of his punctuality. And yet.

“Lookin’ for me, Princess?”

You jump as you hear Zoro’s voice behind you, dangerously close to your ear. Jerking around, you find him smirking, arms crossed as he stares at you.

“N-no.”

“Tch.” He saunters into the room, his arm barely grazing yours as he drops into his seat, leaning back with a sort of damnable, feline grace, doing nothing to hide a huge, lethargic yawn. When he makes a show of stretching his arms over his head, you pause as you notice the way he winces, favoring his left side over his right.

You narrow your eyes.

“You’d be a shit poker player,” he says, grinning as he turns his eyes back towards you, catching you staring before you flush a deep purple and stomp towards your own seat, just one row ahead of him.

You noisily start setting up your supplies — an endless parade of jelly pens and perfectly coordinated sticky notes in aesthetically pleasing colors — pretending like you hadn’t heard him.

Thankfully, the professor hurries in soon after as the rest of the students file in.

Halfway through the lecture, you’re stifling the third yawn of the hour as you feel a small, crumpled something hit the back of your neck. You jerk around to find Zoro ducking behind his arms even as you spot the small wad of paper that he’d obviously just tossed at you.

You bend down to pick it up, only to find a note scribbled in slanted, uneven handwriting —

Sugar crash? Ha. Serves you right.

You nearly whip around but the professor clicks another slide and drones on. You huff, flipping the paper over to scribble on the back —

What happened to your arm?

You surreptitiously toss the note back to him and grin to yourself as you hear him sputtering behind you. The professor glances towards you. You flash him a winning smile as you continue to jot down notes; behind you, you hear the distinct sounds of Zoro scrambling to appear as if he’s paying attention.

The rest of the lecture goes by uninterrupted, though by the end, you swear that your hackles are raised from the way Zoro’s been staring at the back of your neck the entire time.

“What?” you ask, whipping around to face him.

Zoro, for his part, has the decency to look sheepish as he clears his throat and sighs, leaning back.

“There’s nothing wrong with my arm,” he says as he looks away, a slight darkness dusting the high of his cheeks. It’s not the first time you notice the bone-chiseled features of his face — like some gorgeous, careless god, rendered by the loving hands of a besotted Renaissance artist and preserved for the world to see — the way a constellation of freckles scatter across the bridge of his nose, the way his jaw is sharp enough to sting the imagination.

“Right. Fine. Sorry I asked.” You shove your notes and pens back into your bag, rolling your eyes as you shoulder your tote, “And… you’d be a shit poker player too.”

And with that, you turn and leave the room without a single backward glance.

You’re gone so quick that you don’t see the way Zoro stares after you, his own eyes narrowed into slits. You don’t see the way he frowns as one of his teammates nudges him with an elbow, reminding him that afternoon practice starts in 15 minutes.

four.

Tuesday night finds you slumped over a stack of books on the 3rd floor of the library, your entire body feeling odd and boneless. Hundreds of tiny flashcards are scattered across the top of the desk, each filled with a system you have to memorize before your test on Friday for your O-Chem course, when suddenly, a white paper cup appears in your field of vision, plopping onto the tiny slip of table still available between all your study materials.

“Hm?” you jerk up, blinking blearily up at a vaguely familiar green-haired figure even as he crosses his arms and sighs.

“There. Some real coffee. Looked like you need it,” Zoro says, glancing away the moment your eyes come into focus.

You stare at him for a solid ten seconds before looking back down at the cheap, watered-down cup of unsweetened coffee on the table before you.

Ew, you want to say, but somehow, “Thanks,” is what comes out of your mouth.

You reach for the cup, wincing slightly as you jerk your fingers back from the scalding exterior of the thin paper cup.

Zoro immediately leans down, snatching the cup from the table to blow on the surface. You watch him with wide, wondering eyes. It takes him a second to catch himself before he blushes a deep shade of maroon and clears his throat, quickly setting the cup back down on your desk, tucking both his hands into his pockets, looking anywhere but directly at you.

“It’s — careful — I mean — it’s from the vending machine downstairs so it’s not as fancy as the stuff we get from the coffee shop —”

Maybe it’s because you’re truly too tired, or maybe because Robin’s been right since day one but — you reach for the cup, carefully cradling it between your palms as you take a tentative sip and grimace at the watery, bitter aftertaste.

“Gross,” you say, though without any malice, glancing up at him. Zoro scoffs, dragging out an empty seat across from you, turning it around to straddle the chair, propping both his arms on the back as he looks at you. Your eyes once more catch on the way he’s gentler with his right side.

“What’s wrong with your arm?” you ask again, taking another tentative sip of the truly awful coffee.

Zoro grimaces, “None of your business.”

You sigh, the will to snark back rather feeble as you consider the mountain of vocab you have to memorize before your Friday test.

“Right, sure — keep your secrets,” you drone as you set the paper cup down and nudge it further away from you, “be mysterious for the next —” you check your watch, “eighteen hours before Practical Applications when you’ll have to explain to Coach Mihawk why you've been lying about an obvious injury three weeks before your next —”

“Fuck — okay.”

You pause, looking up from collecting your flash cards.

Zoro digs his fingers into his right shoulder.

“I — I think I pulled it at the tournament last week.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, “Your tournament was on Thursday.”

Zoro shifts uncomfortably, “And?”

“And it’s now Tuesday.”

Zoro doesn’t answer this time, but you have to actively fight down the urge to throw the no-longer-scalding-but-still-very-hot-coffee at his face. You tell yourself that the only thing stopping you is professionalism and sportsmanship instead of an unwillingness to damage his Michaelangelo-sculpted features.

“It’s been five days!”

Zoro’s expression flatlines, “Contrary to popular belief, I do know how to count.”

You bite back a frustrated scream as you push away from your chair and round the table to stand behind him, not giving him enough time to be bewildered before you press a palm to his right shoulder, already focused on finding the tender spots.

“Tell me where it hurts.”

You run an expert palm over the width of his shoulders, focusing on his right, fingers digging into various muscle groups until he winces.

“Ow.”

You grin as you find a tender patch to the right of his spine, almost beneath his shoulder blade.

“You strained your Rhomboid.”

“Gesundheit.”

You roll your eyes and reach over his back for the cup of coffee. You feel his breath hitch as your front presses full against his back.

“Hold still,” you say, pressing the side of the warm cup to the sore muscle.

Zoro makes a choked moaning noise that he tries to bite off, but not soon enough. It sizzles down your spine to curl at the base of your belly, spreading heat through your body in a way you have no urge to examine at this current point in time.

You hold it there for a minute, and then two, till the coffee’s gone lukewarm.

“Here,” you say, tugging the cup away to offer it to him.

He stares at the cup before glancing up at you.

“Caffeine helps with muscle soreness and pain — it’s probably why you’re so addicted to espresso all the time,” you offer by way of an explanation, even as he opens his mouth to ask. He closes his mouth and takes the coffee, downing half of it in a single gulp.

Then, he sets it down on the table before digging a crumpled packet of sugar out of his pants pocket.

“It’s… probably not as sweet as you usually like it but…” he presses it into the palm of your hand, looking anywhere but at your face, “should help the bitterness.”

And then he’s gone, slouching off towards the elevator bank, leaving you gaping after him with the packet of sugar in your hand, your rapidly cooling coffee, and a mountain of revisions you’ve got no hope of finishing tonight.

five.

Wednesday finds you practically sprinting as you reach your Practical Applications course, clutching at your chest as you burst through the gym doors, gasping for breath. Professor Kureha quirks an inquiring eyebrow at you while Mihawk, the fencing instructor, slates you a sharp, rueful glare.

“— as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” his bright hawk-yellow eyes flash back over the fencing team, “regionals are quickly approaching and we need you in top form. So — warm-ups stretches, everyone. Pair up and get to it. Zoro, up here with me.”

You duck your head and hurry towards your normal spot along the bleachers, slowing as you notice what looks like a cup of coffee from the Straw Hats Cafe occupying the place where you normally sit. You pick up the cup — it’s still hot to the touch.

On the coffee slip is a single word — Princess.

And though it’s in Sanji’s familiar coffee shop scrawl, only one person has ever called you that.

Heat crests up your chest, prickling at your cheeks. You don’t have to taste it to know that it’s your order — your favorite order. Briefly, you wonder if Sanji made Zoro recite the entire thing before agreeing to put it down, or if he’d spared Zoro the pain of having to say the word ‘decaf’ unironically.

And then you wonder if Nami teased him at all, waiting for his own drink on top of yours.

“Chop chop,” Professor Kureha says, grinning too wide as she wanders over, peering at you over her John Lennon shades, “you heard old Hawk-eyes — time to pair up.”

You hurriedly drop your bag and take a quick sip of our drink, letting out a soft groan of appreciation as the caramel-cinnamon goodness seeps into your blood vessels. Some nameless freshman hopeful from the fencing team is your partner for stretches and you patiently walk him through all the major motions, pushing on his back and laughing kindly when he can’t quite reach his toes.

You feel the faint tingle on the back of your neck that tells you someone’s staring, and you privately think that you don’t need three guesses to figure out who it is. But you don’t give Zoro the satisfaction of looking over till you help the blushing freshman finish all his stretches, giving him an encouraging pat on the shoulder, reaching up on tip-toe to ruffle his hair even though he’s got a solid four inches over you.

When finally, you glance over towards where Mihawk is putting Zoro through his paces, it’s to find him flickering through the motions — flashes of silver, lithe, fluid — and you find your breath held captive in your chest by the sight.

You’ve always known Zoro to be a graceful fencer, but grace has nothing on the way he flows from one move to the next, each muscle drawn like a bow-string, each intake of breath timed and perfect. His arms and legs move in tandem and there’s a bewitching rhythm to the way his body breaks and bends. It is beauty and strength, dance and magic — power and promise and the sword-tip’s whish of premonition.

When he finishes, you suck in a breath you hadn’t been aware you were holding.

You watch as Mihawk murmurs something to Zoro, who winces, looking chastened before Mihawk waves him away and Zoro sets down his epee, making his way over to you.

You open your mouth, about to make some snarky remark but Zoro reaches over his back with one hand and tugs his shirt off in a single, unbroken motion. You gulp, your voice failing you as your eyes settle on the strong ripple of his muscles as he tosses his shirt aside.

Zoro smirks, “Keep starin’ and I’m gonna have to start charging.”

You rip your eyes away, fire licking up the length of your torso as you reach into your bag for a roll of sports tape.

Zoro slumps down in the seat in front of you as you take stock of his sweat-slicked torso, your eyes still catching on the patch of swollen muscle beneath his shoulder blade. You reach forward and run a thumb along it, careful of the way he hisses.

“A hot-patch is only going to do so much,” you say, frowning as you drop the sports tape to focus on massaging the tender bit of skin.

Zoro groans, his eyes falling half shut as you slowly work at the various knots in his shoulders. Your fingers are slow and deliberate, applying just the right amount of pressure. And more than once, Zoro has to bite back what he’s sure would’ve been an indecent moan before it rolls out of his mouth at the way your soft palms press into the planes of his back, the tenseness of his shoulders.

“Keep moaning like that, I’m gonna have to start charging,” you say, much too close to his ear.

Zoro jerks, even as you pull back, laughing. The sound makes his skin prickle up with goosebumps and he doesn’t want to think about the myriad reasons why.

“I bought you coffee, twice,” he grumbles, cheeks pink, his mind still buzzing from the warmth of your palms.

You hum, your fingers flickering over his skin, pulling away for a second before he feels something wonderful and cool pressing against his sore, aching muscles.

“You’re right… you did buy me coffee twice. Even though the first time was horrible vending machine coffee and I used most of it as a heating pad for your injury.”

Zoro grunts, letting you manhandle him as you gently twist his right arm into an array of different stretches to test his range of mobility.

“Still counts.”

You put down his right arm to test his left. Zoro chooses not to think about the way his body tingles where your hands touch him, and especially not where you’re standing too close, your chest occasionally brushing against his shoulder. He chooses actively not to think about the way he can smell the soft, coconut milk fragrance of your lotion as you lean over him, rambling about doing the proper warm-up and cool-down exercises.

He grins as you reach over mid-sentence to finish your drink and you pause, watching him with narrowed eyes.

“What?”

He shrugs, “Nothin’… just that… seems like you liked your drink.”

Your eyes slingshot from his face to the nearly empty cup in your hands.

“I always like my —”

They widen when you realize that Zoro had in fact ordered a double shot of espresso in your usual drink instead of your normal decaf. And, that you’d been too distracted by him to notice.

“I — it — wh —”

Zoro languidly rises from his seat, grinning, “Thanks for the treatment, Princess. I owe you one — lemme buy you a coffee sometime, yeah?”

You stare after him as he makes his way across the room, back to the rest of the team for proper bouts. You force down another blush as you shove the now-empty coffee cup into the nearest trash can, your heart skidding to the rhythmic squeak of feet shuffling against the floors, the bell-like ting of epee blades, the murmur of the watching crowd.

six.

Thursday morning finds you ill-rested and grumpy as you join Robin in the quad, heading for the Straw Hats Cafe during free period.

“Trouble sleeping?” Robin asks, looking you over with mild concern.

You grunt, adjusting your bag, “Had coffee too late in the day.”

At this, Robin frowns, “But you only drink decaf.”

You grunt again, not looking at her, “Yeah, well.”

Robin blinks for a second before a knowing smile splits her lips, “Ah… so. Fencer-boy’s made his move.”

You round on her, fists clenched, “He has not! He just — he just bought me coffee!���

Robin remains infuriatingly unfazed as she stares at you, “Yes. And to most, that would constitute as ‘making a move’. And here I thought you were a fan of romance novels.”

You turn away from her, huffing even as your cheeks fill with color, “I — I am.”

“So?” she asks.

“So?” you echo, cursing yourself for sounding like a petulant child.

“So…” she continues, patient as always, “he bought you coffee.”

You crinkle your nose, your stomach a roiling mess as the pair of you make your way across the quad and duck into the cafe to Sanji’s bright, welcoming voice, your eyes scanning the queue even though you know that Zoro’s got morning practice. This does not go unnoticed by Robin, though she mercifully elects to not question you about it.

“Yes, he bought me coffee. But instead of decaf, he made it a double-shot.” You try very hard to make this sound like a personal affront, but Robin only dips her head.

“Ah,” she says again, and you feel the urge to run out of the building even as the pair of you shuffle towards the front of the line.

“Hi there, oh! I’ve got a special message for you,” Nami says as you get to the registers, her voice silken with glee as she reaches behind the counter to tug out what looks like a receipt. You glance down at the paper, confused, but she only winks as she moves to ask what Robin would like.

You inch to the side, distracted by this strange turn, your eyes dropping to the slip of paper, upon which is scribbled — Good luck on test tomorrow. Evening bout. Gym.

You stare at the cryptic message for a full minute before Robin ushers you toward the counter where Sanji is pumping out drinks, making girls blush as he winks at them each in turn.

“Ah, if it isn’t my favorite Decaf Princess — though… seems like your tastes are a-changin’ these days,” Sanji says, grinning wide as you get to the counter, pushing a steaming cup towards you. You frown at the drink — cinnamon sprinkled atop a perfectly placed dollop of whipped cream, underneath which you’re sure is your favorite drink order. You look back up at Sanji.

“A certain mosshead jock put in an advanced order for you — said to give you an extra shot of espresso for the test you’ve got tomorrow.”

You sputter as Robin laughs beside you, thanking Sanji for her own Long Black.

“You know, you could just be normal and call it an Americano,” you say as the pair of you make your way out of the cafe. Robin grins, sipping at her drink.

“I could… but where’s the fun in that?” she slates you a glance, “More importantly, are you going?”

“To what?” you ask, not meaning to sound so defensive, but you can’t help it, and even as Robin sighs, you know that it’s useless.

“To the bout,” she says, unruffled.

You hunch into your upturned collar and your thick, layered scarf, cradling your drink, the sweet scent of syrup and cinnamon wafting up to tickle your nose. You blush at the thought of Zoro’s voice, full of morning gravel, shy as he lists out all the extremities you like in your coffee order.

“Maybe. I mean… why not, right?”

Robin nods, humming as she takes another long drink, “Mhm — why not indeed.”

You nudge her; she nudges you back. You both laugh as a church bell rings out from across the quad, sending a flock of birds scattering through the misty, morning air.

seven.

Friday evening finds you pushing through the wide gym doors, pressing your hands over the skirt you’d painstakingly picked out, chewing on your bottom lip.

You silently curse at Robin for pulling out last minute, begging off to some Ancient Languages focus group.

“I bet it’s not even real…” you mutter to yourself as you slip into the front row of the bleachers, looking for an empty seat. You somehow manage to look up just as Zoro is about to go on, his mask under one arm, his blade in the other.

You raise your hand in a half wave before catching yourself and shoving it back down, scowling as Zoro’s lips pull into a lopsided grin. You drop into a seat just as Zoro tugs his helmet on and stretches his arms. You tense as you see the slight wince he twitches away as he tests the weight of his blade.

But you needn’t have worried — the bout is quick and decisive, Zoro scoring one point after another, his blade flashing through the air, bright as fish scales. And before you know it, the buzzer sounds, marking his victory. You leap to your feet, cheering with the rest of the crowd as Zoro tugs off his mask and pumps his fists.

You catch his eye and for a moment, the wild rumble of the screaming crowd fades to a dull, thumping baseline. He jerks his head towards the lockers and you nod, swallowing hard as you duck through the still-cheering crowd towards the back of the gym.

When you get there, it’s to find him methodically polishing his blade, his mask set to the side, his thick jacket pulled down to pool around his waist, the rest of his protective wear scattered in heaps on the ground around him. You have half a mind to scold him for being so careless with what you know is expensive gear but you can’t keep yourself from staring at the wide planes of back, curving up to his shoulders, the thick cords of muscle that flex up either side of his neck.

He looks up as you shuffle in, your skirt suddenly feeling a bit too short, too risque for the near-winter weather outside.

You clear your throat and cast your eyes about the empty lockers. You don’t miss the way his gaze skates up your bare legs, pausing at the place where your skirt brushes the top of your thighs.

“Uhm — how’s your shoulder?” your voice sounds too high, echoing strangely along the white-tiled walls.

Zoro licks his lips and puts down his blade, rolling his right shoulder.

“Better but… still not great. Mihawk’s making me to do PT.”

You nod, letting out a soft laugh, “I’m glad. You’d never do it otherwise.”

He scoffs, “You know what that means though, right?” There’s a raw, rolling tension beneath his words, a sort of thickened expectation as he stares at you with dark, meaningful eyes.

You purse your lips, your stomach tightening.

“I —”

Zoro gets to his feet, and you barely register the soft clatter of his blade as it rolls to the side on the bench. He closes the space between you in three quick steps and you find yourself marveling at his speed — wondering vaguely if this is how all his opponents feel when he slips forward, the tip of his blade digging into their shoulder or stomach or the bend of their hip.

“Means we’re stuck with each other. At least till you fix me for regionals in two weeks.”

Your back meets the icy chill of the locker doors and the words are out of your mouth before you can stop them —

“Bold of you to assume that you’re fixable in two weeks.”

Zoro quirks an eyebrow, even as you resist the urge to clap your hands to your mouth, cursing inwardly at whatever the hell made you say that out loud. Your heart thuds an insistent drumbeat inside your chest as Zoro leans casually against the lockers next to you. Like this, you can feel the heat of his skin, the rhythm of his long breaths as he looks you over with sharp, curious eyes.

You think you can taste the sweet, tepid weight of his breath. It smells faintly of coffee and mint and synthetically flavored protein bars.

“Then…” he drawls, propping an arm against the locker door right next to your face, his eyes flickering from your lips up to your eyes and back down again. Your gaze is unabashedly caught on the shape of his mouth, but when you finally force yourself to look up at his eyes, it’s to find them warm and amused.

“How long do you think it’ll take?”

You gulp, “To fix your shoulder?”

Zoro shrugs, “That and… whatever else you think needs to be fixed.”

You purse your lips, an entire kaleidoscope of butterflies erupting in your stomach at his words.

“Who knows? Might take three weeks… might take — forever —” your words cut off as he leans in to graze his lips against yours. And you’re momentarily caught between delight and bewilderment that you’re right — they do taste of coffee and mint and salt — but that they also taste of a dull, throbbing hunger as he leans in to kiss you proper. And then, the blooming realization that you’re just as desperate as he is, pushing in, fingers scrabbling against the skin of his chest as his skim along the sides of your ribs, the dip of your waist.

He kisses you so deep and so long that you’re actually gasping when he finally pulls away to suck a stinging hickey into the smooth of your collarbone, his fingers digging grooves into your thighs as he hoists you up to press you against the cold, hard metal of the lockers.

You let out a clipped moan at the same time he does, and his right arm twitches, though he makes no move to let you go.

Distantly, your mind registers the fact that he’s still technically injured, but the part of you that’s hungry and clawing at the base of your stomach with a fierce, immutable need refuses to listen to reason. It takes more effort than it logically should’ve done to extricate yourself from his grasp, to push him away despite his disgruntled sigh as he stumbles back and stares at you with dark, dangerous eyes.

“What —”

“Fuck —” you hiss, even as you let your head fall back against the lockers, the dull thunk pulling a wolfish grin to his lips.

“Yeah, well —”

“Wait — no —”

Zoro cocks his head, “No?”

You reach forward to tug him back, to kiss him as deeply and desperately as you dare, but you pull away before he can properly sink into the kiss and you pin him with a look.

“We — your shoulder —”

“Fuck my shoulder —”

You shake your head, almost delusional with the heat and want and the insanity of it all, “No! We can’t! We — we’ve gotta take care of it first!”

Zoro rolls his eyes, “It’ll get better if we just leave it alone —”

You shake your head again, laughing as he presses back in, slower this time, grazing his knuckles along the skin of your jaw, tilting you back towards him.

“It won’t,” you say, softly, letting him run a thumb along your lips, “but… if you let me take care of it. It will heal faster…” you trail off, letting the implications simmer beneath the surface of all your unsaid words, and it only takes a second for Zoro to consider before he lowers you to the floor and starts haphazardly gathering up his things.

You drag a hand across your lips, watching him.

“So…” you feel yourself blush as you muster up the words but Zoro scoffs, already impatient as he shoves his stuff into one of the larger lockers and slams the door.

“Mine. It’s closer.”

eight.

His, is — in fact — much closer than you’d thought. Only two blocks from the campus, and in one of the most expensive dorm buildings. You wonder how much he must be paying for it before you realize that he's on a sports scholarship, but you can’t even bring yourself to be bitter as he lets you into his spacious dorm, the giant living room scattered with game consoles and opened cereal boxes, leading to a short hallway that opens into his bedroom.

It’s cleaner than you’d imagined, with a set of light green linens drawn neatly over a full-sized bed, and two sets of pillows.

“Sorry for the mess,” he says, sweeping some energy bar wrappers into the trash from his desk as he tosses down his duffle bag.

You shake your head, looking around, your eyes catching on the thick volumes of fencing books, the endless stacks of sports magazines, the huge set of free weights on a rack in the corner by the closet.

“Uh… do you want a drink?” he asks, suddenly awkward as he scratches at the back of his head.

You turn towards him with a grin, “No. But I do want you to take off your shirt.”

Zoro blinks before he smiles and moves towards the bed, tugging off his shirt and tossing it to the side. You fight the urge to roll your eyes as he leans back on the bed, his perfectly tanned stomach flexing beneath the slanted desk-light as he watches you through lazily hooded eyes.

“On your stomach,” you say, your voice light and surgical as you open your own bag and tug out a tub of medicated massage cream.

Zoro stares for a second before the smile slips off his face to be replaced by a dull, knowing scowl. Still, he doesn’t argue as he flips onto his stomach and sighs, pillowing his cheek on his arms as he pouts at the wall.

“Like I told you — we need to take care of your shoulder first. Regionals are in two weeks. We can’t have you performing like you did tonight.”

Zoro attempts a glare over his shoulder as you carefully maneuver over his back and straddle his hips, warming your palms with the massage cream before setting to work.

“I still won.”

His voice is tight and petulant. You nod, sighing as you work your thumbs into the dip beneath his shoulder blade where you know he’s still sore. He hisses, jerking away from you. You pin him in place with your free arm and continue to roll your thumb across the bundle of muscle.

Two minutes in, you press a bit harder and he lets out a pitched whine that makes you pause in your ministrations.

“F-fuck —�� he buries his face in his pillow, thumping a fist against his bed as you laugh and continue the massage, though taking care to be a bit more careful around his injury.

Nearly twenty minutes later, you climb off the bed and wipe your hands. Zoro groans, shifting to watch you with half-lidded eyes and color-stained cheeks.

“I know,” you say, holding up your hands, “that really hurt but you feel much better now, right?”

Zoro grins, sleepy as he blinks slowly up at you, “Yeah. Whatever.”

And then, a long moment later —

“Hey,” he says, his voice soft, flipping onto his side and shifting on the bed as if to make room for you, “stay.”

You freeze, almost unwilling to believe your own ears as you finish putting away your supplies. You glance at him with tight lips and hopeful eyes.

There’s a tiny grin threatening the corners of his lips as he sighs, making a show of yawning and stretching.

“It’s late… and I don’t really feel like walking you back.”

You fold your arms, “I could just call campus security to escort me.”

Zoro stills for a second but a moment later, he casts his eyes up at the ceiling, “Yeah… you could…”

You make no move to leave.

“But you still owe me coffee in the morning,” he says.

You frown, “Wait, what? How’s that?”

He glances at you, “I’ve bought you coffee twice.”

“Yeah, but I just gave you a free 30-minute medical massage treatment for your shoulder.”

“You would’ve had to do it anyway on Wednesday in Practical Applications.”

You narrow your eyes, “Professor Kureha might not have assigned me to you.”

At this, Zoro scoffs, “Yeah right. You’re the best, and so am I.”

“S-she might not have!” you say, though there’s no real conviction in your voice. You both know that he’s right.

“Yeah. Whatever.” He turns away from you, making as if to go to sleep.

You glare at his back, dropping your bag with a loud thump.

“If anything, you owe me coffee now. That massage was worth at least two coffees, if not more.” You plop down on the edge of his bed, scowling at the opposite wall.

Zoro is quiet for a beat too long and you chance a glance at him, only to find him peering you with a strangely indulgent look in his eyes. You blush, tearing your eyes away.

“How’s breakfast?” he asks, his voice once again going soft. Your skin prickles with heat.

“What about breakfast?”

“Coffee and breakfast. That enough to pay for the massage?”

You can’t help the smile that threatens to break across your lips as you glance back at him and catch his eyes.

“I…. guess.”

Zoro chuckles, the sound so low in his throat that it makes you shiver. Quick as anything, he reaches over to pull you down towards him, easily looping an arm around your middle and flipping you both so that you’re pinned beneath him. You barely have time to gasp before you find his lips on yours once more, slow and sweet and shockingly steady.

You kiss him back, letting him push you gently into the crumpled linens of his bed. His fingers are light as he slowly works your skirt down your legs, reaching behind your torso to loosen your bra and tug your shirt from you in a single, smooth motion.

You shiver beneath him and he pulls back to stare. You search his eyes, feeling suddenly uncertain.

“God, you’re gorgeous…”

Heat crests into your cheeks as you try to look away. But he tugs you back with his thumb and steals another kiss.

“It’s late…” he says, pulling away to press your foreheads.

You nod, chewing on your bottom lip. “Yeah, I know…”

“Let’s sleep in tomorrow.”

You laugh, shifting as he curls his body around you, tugging you easily against his chest and pulling the covers over you both. A moment later, the lights click off and you’re both thrown into darkness. You let yourself relax into his arms, wondering just how you’re going to explain this to Robin tomorrow.

“Don’t think too hard about it,” Zoro’s voice murmurs into the nape of your neck.

You grin, nodding as you press further back into him and he grazes a soft kiss along your skin.

“That kinda thinking needs breakfast and coffee first,” you say, to which Zoro chuckles, nodding as he lets you hook your ankles between his, your bodies settling against each other, warm and perfect, the curves and bends meeting like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle finally, finally finding each other at last.

You don’t have long enough to ponder on the light, musk-salt-sweet of his skin or the way you can feel his heartbeat as it threads along your spine or the way that somehow, the shape of him doesn’t feel foreign against the shape of you, before you’re already falling asleep. And to him, he doesn’t have time to ponder the lovely silk of your hair, just as soft as he’d always imagined, or the way your waist feels perfect beneath his hands, or how he’s somehow he’s always known the rhythm of your breaths before he too is falling into the warm embrace of a dark, sweet, restful sleep as well.

nine.

Saturday morning finds you both tangled in each other, the winter sun bright and cold as it slates through the slits of Zoro’s bedroom window. He wakes up first, shifting to stretch until he feels the weight of you beside him. And then suddenly, he's somehow achingly awake and aware of his body against yours, of your paced breaths and his own rapidly increasing heartbeat. For one bewildering moment, he can’t quite remember what brought him here, and then the scenes from the night before — the bout, the lockers, the kiss — the way you’d tasted, how utterly irresistible you’d been, blushing in the dim light of his room, your skillful fingers digging into his tender, swollen flesh — his own rash promise of breakfast and coffee — it all comes rushing back. Zoro lets out a long breath and leans in to brush his lips along your forehead.

You let out a light groan as you shift in his arms, and when you turn, it’s to find him watching you.

“Oh… hey.”

Your voice is quiet, almost shy as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, and he finds himself more endeared than he has words to say.

He clears his throat.

“Morning. Uh… sleep well?”

You laugh, the warmth of your expelled breath ghosting across his clavicle in a way that makes him shiver.

“Mhm… pretty well… and you?”

Zoro clears his throat, “Yeah. Guess it wasn’t… bad.”

He resists the urge to roll away, if only because your cheek is still pillowed on his arm, and he can’t bring himself to pull away from you just yet. So instead, he drops his nose into your hair and takes in the milky scent of your coconut lotion. Tiny, pin-pricks of desire shoot through him, teasing goosebumps into the skin of his back and arms, but he forces himself to lie still as you snuggle against his chest with a contented sigh.

“So… breakfast and coffee?”

Zoro grunts, “Hn. I did promise.”

You smile, letting yourself sink into the thick and syrup of his sleep-deepened voice, his moss-green hair even more tousled than it normally is as he adjusts his head on his pillow.

“Hey,” you say, breathless as you look up at him beneath the sweep of your lashes, your eyes so big and dark and wide Zoro wonders if they might swallow him whole.

“Hey,” he answers, just as breathless, uncertainty creeping up the center of his chest as he stares down at you, lying in the glistening, mercurial light, the bend of your shoulder kissed by the morning sun, the shape of you limned in silver and gold.

You lean up to kiss him before he has the chance to second-guess himself, and though he was the more bold, self-assured one last night, you press in against him this morning, the languid sweep of your tongue along his lips making him groan, helpless, against you. He tastes the satisfied grin at the corner of your mouth as he opens his own, his mind frizzing into gorgeous, white static as you spend what feels like hours exploring the sweet depths of each other's mouths — all tongue and teeth and kiss-swollen lips.

When finally you pull apart, he is more breathless than he’d planned for, his body too warm for his liking, an urgent, pulsing something burning at the base of his stomach as he fights the urge to shove you back and sink his teeth into your skin, to hear you hiss, to make you gasp, to leave the indent of his fingers along the soft flesh of your hips and thighs, to mark you as his in every way he knows how.

But instead, he places a lingering kiss on your cheek and sits up, slowly stretching his arms.

“Careful…” you warn, pushing yourself up as well, watching him, “how’s it feel?”

Zoro tests his right side, drawing his arm up and then to the side, and then pulling it across his torso.

“Whoa… so much better.”

You smile, satisfied.

Zoro chuckles, “Guess I really do owe you breakfast. C’mon.”

He slips out of bed, tugging open a drawer to toss you a thick sweater and a pair of sweatpants. For himself, he only tugs on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, even as you frown, squinting at him from where you’re nearly swimming in his clothes.

“You’ll freeze.”

Zoro smirks as he looks you over, reaching over to pull the hood over your mussed tangle of hair, “Nah, I’m fine.”

You pout, jerking open the drawer to pull out a sweater and tossing it at him.

“You have to keep your right side warm so your muscles don’t just seize up again.”

Zoro stares at the sweater in his hand, looking reluctant before you press your lips into an exaggerated pout.

“C’mon… I worked so hard on getting it better last night… please?”

Zoro groans, rolling his eyes as he tugs on the sweater.

“Yeah, yeah — fine. Let’s go.”

He doesn’t wait for you, nor does he extend his hand. But the pair of you walk elbow to elbow, hip against hip down the bright dorm room hallway, into the chilly Saturday morning air.

“Geez, if you’re gonna yell at me to keep warm —” Zoro reaches over to tug on the drawstrings of your sweater, frowning as he notices how much skin he can still see beneath the opening of the hoodie.

You blush, tugging at it as the pair of you make your way across the empty campus quad.

Halfway across the frost-kissed lawn, he wordlessly reaches out to catch your hand in his, tucking your entwined fingers into the depths of his pocket. You bite back a stupid, dopey grin as you duck your head, quickening your pace to keep up, your footsteps crunching in the dew-bitten grass, the freshly raked gravel.

ten.

There’s already a decent line at the Straw Hats Cafe, but when the pair of you walk in hand in hand, both Sanji and Nami pause for a second longer than usual. Sanji’s eyebrows jerk up his forehead while Nami’s lips curl into a much too satisfied grin as she turns back to the humming espresso machines.

You savor in the smell of freshly ground coffee, absently tracing your thumb over the back of Zoro’s hand.

When you both reach the front, Sanji looks between you expectantly.

“Well, well, well — I’d like to say I’m surprised but —” he shrugs, grinning cheekily, “Well then I’d be lying, wouldn’t I?”

Zoro clicks his tongue but you shoot him a sheepish smile, pursing your lips.

“So… the usual then?” Sanji asks, his fingers poised over the register.

“Yep,” Zoro says, curt as ever, though there’s a distinct blush on his cheeks that not even he can write off as anything else.

You nod as well, “Oh, but… I think I’ll try a non-decaf latte this time. Just one shot of espresso though, please and thank you.”

Sanji blinks at you for a second before letting out a startled laugh and nodding, punching in your order.

“Coming right up, sweet cheeks. Right then, that’d be 8.75 for the latte and 5.50 for the double espresso.”

Zoro reaches into his wallet and pulls out a 20, slipping it across the counter. Down the bar, Nami is humming, looking cheerier than you’ve ever seen her this early in the morning as she goes about making your drinks.

Sanji sighs as he shakes his head, handing Zoro his change.

Zoro narrows his eyes but Sanji cuts him off.

“Take it from me, fam. You don’t wanna know.”

You and Zoro share a puzzled look as you both shuffle down to the pick-up counter, where Nami is sliding your finished drinks toward you with a bright, knowing glint to her eyes. Zoro clears his throat and reaches over for a packet of sugar, nonchalantly tipping it into his drink before picking it up to take a sip.

You try not to gape as you grab your own drink, flashing Nami a quick smile before turning to follow Zoro.

He picks a table as far away from the counter as possible, tucked into a corner, nearly invisible to the rest of the shop. When you sit down, he frowns at your chair for a second before reaching out to tug you across the floor till your chair is next to his. He goes back to his drink without a single word.

It’s all you can do to blush and stare at your steaming cup.

“I thought we were getting coffee and breakfast,” you say after a brief moment of silence.

Zoro grunts, “We are. Coffee first.”

You nod, somewhat mollified as you take another sip of your drink. The warmth trickles down your chest to rest somewhere in the center of your stomach, spreading heat throughout your body in waves.

“We could just get a chocolate croissant,” you say, giving Zoro a sidelong look.

Zoro frowns, tapping his finger against the side of his cup, “Dessert isn’t breakfast.”

You scoff, “Says who?”

Zoro’s expression flatlines, “Says me. And I’m payin’ for it.”

You purse your lips, wondering if you should argue more before deciding against it. A few seconds later, Zoro sighs, casting his eyes about the cafe interior.

“We can have a croissant after real breakfast.”

You giggle into your drink, swallowing down the glee fluttering in your stomach, threatening to spill out of your still kiss-chapped lips.

“Kay, whatever you say.”

Zoro rolls his eyes and folds his arms, but his elbow presses against yours and he doesn’t make to move away.

Across the cafe, Nami leans to watch the pair of you, Sanji at her side, looking both stunned and somewhat pained.

“C’mon man, it’s not even been a week!”

Nami grins, rinsing out a few cups and placing them mouth down to dry before pivoting on her heels and holding out an expectant palm. Sanji sighs as Nami’s eyes glitter with mirth and a hard-won glee.

“Right. I think you owe me fifty bucks.”

Sanji narrows his eyes, glancing back at where you and Zoro are tucked into the corner of the cafe.

“Double or nothing on when they’ll have their first fight. I say… not till next week.”

Nami’s eyebrows twitch up. She looks back at where the pair of you are now bickering over where to have breakfast. A smirk teases at her lips.

She puts down her hand, “Alright then… but like I said — it’s your funeral, Sanji.”

Over in the corner, there’s the dull scrape of chair legs as you push yourself away from the table to fold your arms.

“— Belgian waffles are absolutely an acceptable meal for breakfast!”

Zoro rolls his eyes, though there’s still an amused spark behind his eyes.

“Breakfast without eggs ain’t real breakfast. And doesn’t count if it’s smothered in syrup either.”

You make an indignant noise, frowning even as Zoro tugs you back to press a napkin to your upper lip, where there’s a faint line of whipped cream residue.

Sanji backpedals immediately, “Uh — right so, I feel like we need to define what really constitutes a ‘fight’, yeah?”

Nami tuts, shaking her head, “Nope! A bet’s a bet. Now pay up.”

feedback always welcome :) reqs are closed.

[standamianwayne]

yandere!batfam/damian’s twin!reader

stepmom selina anyone?? anyone interested in some stepmom selina?? (me, i am)

i feel like selina would be such a girl mom but also i have this image of damian’s twin being like his opposite. sooo i think the dynamic between her and selina would be fun cause it’s like black sheep & white sheep.

selina would try and teach her the art of stealth and reader would teach her the art of idk friendship?? no but fr i feel like reader and selina would be such a fun duo. bruce’s girls tbh like they team up and they’re unstoppable. also can you imagine the boy advice selina would give? “yeah just steal one of his prized possessions and he’ll come after you. works every time 😏” like okay thanks queen! in terms of like yandere behavior, i feel like she’s one to plant the little seeds of doubt in reader’s mind about others. like “aw sweetie it’s okay, you’re way too good for them! you never do anything wrong 🥹.” meanwhile the person in question is filing for bankruptcy cause their valuables are gone.

barbara is so ‘cool older sister’ coded it’s actually insane. she’s incredibly smart and good with tech, plus she’s really pretty and cool as hell??? reader is like “hiii hello hiii ” and she INSTANTLY becomes her newest role model.

her like ‘yandereness’ would probably be similar to tim’s but instead of trying to keep reader home, she more so just watches her. like if reader wants to go to a party and it’s on a bad corner of town, barbs will give her directions to go to avoid the most trouble. probably the least likely to kill someone tbh i just can’t see her doing it.

reader and cassandra they were both raised by assassins so they probably bond over that and then how life is after leaving. it’s canon that cass can speak (which we’ve seen her do) but she uses body language instead of words. with this, i like to think that she can teach reader how to read people easier. you know, as a little bonding activity! also damian is canonically good with music (the violin specifically i believe), so reader is likely the same. so now just imagine reader playing an instrument while cass dances 🙏.

cass’s type of yandere is mostly just watching from the shadows. like reader brings a boyfriend home and cass is in the corner standing like mothman. if anyone does reader wrong TRUST cass will be kicking the hell out of them 🙏🙏.

stephanie, like duke, is the closest to the normal sibling experience one can get 😭 but tbh i see her as being more as a best friend that’s a ‘sister figure.’ plus i like stephcass so screw you that’s canon now. having improvised fashion shows at 4am, gossiping about everything and everyone (which she then tells cass but shhhh), having self care days like that’s her bff! with steph i feel like she’s not the type to actually attack anyone directly, but instead just telling cass and/or tim about whatever (or whoever) it is reader is having problems with. now if they’re patrolling together and reader gets attacked? yeah she’ll beat the other person up! (or at least get a couple hits in if reader already took care of it)

now that the fam is written for, please please please send any requests y’all wanna see! romantic (outside the batfam ONLY!!! no sweet home alabama here) or platonic, feel free to send an ask or leave a comment!

heyyyy… heyyyy…. how yall doing….? 😔😔 sorry for disappearing buuuut thanks so much for sticking around! sorry if this part doesn’t quite live up to the other two but somehow the girls are harder to write for?? i hope i got them but honestly any criticism would be appreciated. also i kinda skimped over the yandere part for helena so sorry abt that😭. might go back in and change it but who knows.

also i’ve been fixated on conner kent for some reason???? that’s my pookie guys yall dont get it.

anyways love love LOVE yall so much bye byeeee ❤️

[avalonelf]

Okay I never post but seeing all the misinterpretations of Ragatha and Gangle in the new The Amazing Digital Circus ep made me feel the need to at least put my opinion out there, for whatever it’s worth. Everyone asks for morally grey characters but when given them, they are heavily misjudged and mischaracterised.

So this scene:

Also! Please take into consideration that Ragatha is literally drugged up here. She’s in an altered mental state and would never normally say these things. She probably doesn’t even realise the things she’s saying.

So, notice how Ragatha says ‘Happy mask’ and not ‘Comedy Mask’?.

She is referring to the new mask that Gangle has never had on around them before (which I may also argue altered her mental state too but that’s another can of worms), and also the fact that it’s a MASK. She didn’t say “you’re annoying when you’re happy.” And people interpreting it that way are the same ones saying that Ragatha is too much of a people pleaser and needs to be more honest, which yeah she does! She’s more saying “Not to offend, but right now, you are being quite overbearing and demanding” and considering Ragatha is all loopy and out of it, I’m sure it was just how she was feeling in that moment.

Ragatha is not this secretly evil or nasty person who hates everyone, and Gangle saying to Pomni:

Was not saying that Ragatha is ‘hiding and true feelings and actually doesn’t like me’, it’s more once again Gangle worrying that’s what Ragatha may actually think due to how much of a people pleaser she is and how with this mindset, makes her dishonest. Which yeah! Being a people pleaser is not always a good thing, it can cause this exact situation! This doesn’t mean Ragatha is ‘hiding her true evil feelings’, more so she just not honest when she should be. You can be a critic to someone without being mean, and hopefully Ragatha can learn that.

Once again, what Ragatha said to Gangle is not a nice thing to say to anyone at all, but she is not thinking straight at all and Gangle is literally her boss essentially, or at least supervisor (in this ‘adventure’ setting). Anyone who has worked in retail/fast food or any minimum wage job understands that no matter how much you get along (or don’t) with your supervisor, there’s going to be points where they get on your nerves. Gangle herself is not happy in this episode, she has another mask on and is working a job she doesn’t even want to do! Here is a plain example of this:

Gangle doesn’t even want to do this job, she wants to be a comic artist but she’s been made to believe that it’s just an impossible dream.

I also feel this episode is heavily a direct metaphor on how the capitalist society and how a minimum wage job can just destroy a persons soul and motivation. Coming from someone who has worked this sort of job, your own personal relationships can be negatively affected and even ruined due to work pressure. Whether it’s managers getting in your business or whatnot, work can make people grouchy and harsh in fear of losing their jobs or being criticised or people just being eager to please and get a raise or just words of affirmation from higher ups. Like Jax for example, we don’t know what Gangle did to make him so afraid and make him a shell of his usual self, but once again is showing how jobs such as this can change and affect people deeply.

And also! All you people saying Jax is finally getting a taste of his own medicine and what he deserved, we don’t know what that employee training video was and why Jax reacted the way he did. So be careful with that!

Gangle was not happy this episode, and the ending solidified that for me. She wasn’t taking her mask off and finally feeling free and happy, to me it felt like she was in a manic sort of state and was being so careless that she unintentionally fell into oncoming traffic. As soon as she got out of work and took that work based mask off. I don’t think it was a reflection of her finally taking off her mask and being free, it had very unsettling undertones. Not to mention Cain straight up grading her ‘performance’ including what she did AFTER she clocked out which was quite literally being hit by a truck. Do you see what I’m getting at here? It’s the exact similar situation I have seen where my own supervisors were particularly demanding or grouchy on a day where I wasn’t feeling it, and then they themself regret it or end up getting in some sort of trouble with a higher up when they were just trying to essentially do their job! Also Ragatha was straight up drugged, without consent, due to the materials she was forced to work with!

But yes, I think people are empathising too heavily towards Gangle in thinking how they often have masks up and how much it would hurt if their friends acted this way or if they HAVE in fact acted this way towards you, but I don’t think this is the case here.

I ramble a lot but I hope this got some of my thoughts and interpretations across??

I loved this episode and it’s left me asking so many questions that I’m so curious about and I’m so excited for what future episodes bring!

[d6volution]

I don't know if this has been done yet but...can I request Yandere!Jax f_cking the reader into submission?! With like.. possession and obsessive behaviors? I don't normally ask for stuff like this so feel free to ignore, if it doesn't tickle your fancy UwU

I'm debating on making this into a little yandere!jax series hmm...

anyways enjoy!

tags: afab!reader x jax , choking, light oral, rough sex, possessive jax, cream pie.

Jax's eye twitched.

He was getting fed up with you, ever since you arrived here you've been acting like you run the damn place. That was his job.

Being stuck on his boat with you and the others wasn't making this ANY better. And it wasn't a very big boat, just a small speed boat big enough to fit everyone. Just barely.

For context, Caine sent you all off on another adventure, find the treasure before these nasty pirates do and blah blah blah whatever.

"Just hand over the map wouldja?" Jax extended his hand, still overly accustomed to getting his way.

"Yeah, and who put you in charge anyways little bunny??" You rolled up the map and poked the side of his head with it a few times before he rolled his eyes and gripped your arm, yanking you towards him.

"Watch it, doll face. Oh, and don't go running ta' Caine when your hand goes missin." He smirked and you jerked away from him.

"Wh.. Whatever just let me find our way to this stupid treasure so we can get out of here!"

Jax raised his hands in his defense, "Jeez when did women become so hostile, so much for docile and loving.."

"Jax I swear to god I'll shove your ass off this boat and make you swim back!"

"Oh yeah? Do it, .. I dare you." He stood up , making the boat rock a little and you followed suit. Gritting your teeth at his boldness.

Unfortunately your height made you look less intimidating, only reaching just beneath his shoulders.

"I'm going to wipe that stupid grin off of your face!" You basically tackled him and ... well, in the end you both fell over board.

Flash forward a few moments later and you both were soaked, sitting with your arms crossed like children as pomni and ragatha took over the map and guiding the boat.

"I hope you know your washing my clothes when we get back, toots."

You scoffed, "In your dreams."

The adventure wrapped up nicely, but you and Jax both opted out of the dinner to instead go dry yourselves off.

There was one problem though.. Jax passed his room and continued to follow you to yours.

"Just what do you think your doing?"

"You thought I was jokin' these clothes need quite the washing. You can't expect me to do it myself can ya?" He smirked, watching your face ball up as he belittled you right to your face.

"Buzz off, Jax I'm not doing your damn laundry."

You tried to rush into your room and slam the door but his foot caught it before you could, he pushed the door open without any regards to your safety causing the door to fly wide and open and you to fall onto your ass.

"Jax, you assh—"  You looked up , still frazzled from falling, and came almost  face to face with his crotch. He was still wet. Thus, his clothes were clinging to the large imprint in between his legs.

"See something ya like motor mouth?" He grinned and squats in front of you, causing you to hurry and scurry backward.

Your face was on fire.

"N.. No, just— would you help me up and get some dry clothes on!?"

"You're one to talk. it looks like your body doesn't like it when you lie to me." He rested his cheek on his palm, head tilting as he stared at your chest. Unfortunately, your clothes were sticking to your skin , and your nipples stiffened against the fabric, making it all too obvious that you were having more than innocent thoughts about him right now.

"Th.. That doesn't mean anything! I'm obviously cold!"

"Uh huh, keep telling yourself that.. what's the deal anyways, scared I'll show you the time of your life?"

You laughed obnoxiously loud, "Yeah, I'd like to see you try!" Oh, that probably sounded like an open invitation, didn't it— "Ah..!" Suddenly, you were falling backward, but you caught yourself by your elbows.

He was yanking your pants off, which wasn't easy considering that they were still very wet, your eyes darted from your pants to his crotch again, which was growing in size. You swallowed.

"W.. Wait, wait you prick!" You tried to sound more intimidating but it sounded like a helpless plea.

He sighed, "What now? You aren't chickening out, are ya?" He hoped not , he couldn't lose this chance now. This was just too good.. seeing you like this all scared and nervous it was doing something to him.

"O.. Of course not, I can do it myself.." He hummed in amusement, watching you with that shit eating grin.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck, what had you gotten yourself into? Even back in the human world, you only had sex like.. twice! And that was almost a year ago. But there was no way in hell you were telling him that.

You finally got the damn pants, .. and underwear off, still keeping your knees locked together.

"Good girl, so you can play nice." He grinned , your expression and sputtering made it clear that you were caught off guard by his praise. Too bad he doesn't plan on being nice himself from here on out.

He yanked you by your hips and immediately maneuvered your legs apart, he dove face first in between your legs and started lapping at your cunt without warning. His tongue was rough, long and warm.

The tip of his tongue nudged at your entrance. He was drunk on your taste already. Hell, if he'd give this up to anyone else.

You scrambled, but he was easily overpowering you, "J.. Jax, you.. bastard s.. staa..." You whined and tried to push his head away.

Clearly irritated he sat up and grabbed both your hands within his much larger ones, "Quit movin' or ill just fuck you without any prep, alright sweetheart?"

You stiffened up, fuck you can't let him win again. You puffed out your chest, which earned another grin from him. "S.. So what? I can take it, you think .. you think I'm scared or something?" You tried to challenge him, wondering if he'd call your bluff.

"Oh? Fine by me." He started to remove his overalls. Your heart was racing , breathe caught in your throat as his thick shaft flopped free from its confines, he was already lining it up with your cunt. "J.. Just do it! You scare—"

He gripped the fat of your thighs before he rammed into you, knocking the wind out of you. "Hn.. Hha—"

"What happened to all that talk, huh? .. fuck you're tight." He hunched over you and started to thrust into your warm cunt , slow and steady but you felt so full. It was definitely the lack of prep but you couldn't help but moan and whine in his ear as the painful drag of his cock made you feel absolutely dizzy.

"Hmm? Is this all ya needed, doll face? Some cock to calm ya down?" He chuckled and sharply thrusted against that spongy spot inside of you, causing you to yelp and wriggle beneath him.

"S.. Shut.. up.. hha.. fuck.." You sounded pathetic beneath, "c.. can't you do better than this?" Oh, you were digging your own grave here.

"Heh." He propped up your legs, your ankles nearly touching your ears. "Don't say I didn't warn ya, babe." His hips began to piston into your cunt which made a lewd wet and slapping sound, you were beyond aroused, juices coating his cock effortlessly. "Fuck, there we go.." He moaned into your ear.

You could hardly speak, gripping at his back as he relentlessly attacked your cervix with the tip of his cock. "pl.. please...!" You didn't know what you were begging for.

"Please what, huh? Screwin' with me all day, pushing me into the.. fuck— damn water. you deserve this." He panted, and sat up , putting a little bit of space between you before grabbing your throat. Placing just the right amount of pressure to get you tightening up around him even more.

He honestly did this just for kicks, just to see that scared expression again.

"Gettin' off to be choked too, what a slut. Nngh.. it's fine though, ya know why doll?"

He leaned back down, his hips never ceasing to move. Your foreheads touched, "Because you're all mine now. C.. Can't let this tight cunt slip away from me.. mnh.."

He knows you wouldn't even be able to leave if you tried. You're stuck here with him forever.

You whimpered and pleaded pathetically, tears forming in your eyes. It was too much, it felt too good. Your entire body was buzzing with pleasure. "J–Jax.. gonna..!" You gasped, and he finally removed his hand.

"That's right cum on my cock babe, fuck." He grunted and used his free hand to rub circles onto your clit, pushing you over the edge immediately.

You yelled his name in pleasure, legs shaking and cunt siezing around him. It made you too tight, causing him to blow his load inside of you, "Shit.."

He slowly pulled out and a few more ropes of cum spilled onto your stomach.

Jax looked at you, all fucked out and barely able to keep your eyes open. He couldn't let anyone else see you like this.

Ever.

Unbeknownst to you, Jax just latched himself onto you. It'd be hard to rid of him after this.

It was like a coil snapped inside of him.

He stared at your for a long while, you were half asleep so you didn't exactly notice.

"Hey, toots." He gently slapped your cheek.

"C'mon.. we both need a shower. We can take care of the clothes later, yeah?"

"Huh, shower.. together..? n-no that's—"

"Ya really pulling that card right now? For all you know I could've just knocked you up, now c'mon."

The bunny pulled you onto your wobbly legs and into the bathroom to clean up.

[lovebugism]

I heard you’d like some requests, don’t mind if I do 👹 I could’ve sent 62 but I restrained myself:

*grumbling* "Some people are waaay too touchy."

if it inspires you, please!

emmy (upsidedownwithsteve) 🧡

@upsidedownwithsteve, my love! it was an honor to write for you! i hope you like it :D — eddie munson's a big, jealous grump at the bar (established relationship, fluff, 1.1k)

Eddie’s having a piss-poor night. His beer’s lukewarm, the music’s too loud, you’re too far away, and Steve Harrington hasn’t shut up in ten minutes. 

He could hardly stand the dumbass everyone used to call The King, but even less when he’s got a golden arm thrown over your shoulder. And, yeah, it’s all friendly or whatever, but that hardly quells the wildfire burning in his chest. “What right does he have to touch you like this? Fucking none,” grumbles the wild-haired boy’s inner conscience. 

But then again, no one does. Not even him.

“Think I should go buy her a drink?” Steve asks you over the blaring pop music. His honey eyes are pointed across the bar at a girl way out of his league. His slick mouth is far too close to your ear.

You roll your eyes. “I think you should be a gentleman and feel things out with her first—”

“Oh, I’m gonna feel things out with her, alright,” Steve scoffs, bringing the lip of the beer bottle to his mouth.

“—Before jumping into a one-night stand you only halfway recover from.”

The two of you turn to glare at each other, then. Gazes unwavering. Noses mere inches apart. Eddie makes a faint grumbly noise of protest about it, but the boyish sound of disgust goes unheard under the music.

But when I see you hanging about with anyone—

It’s not unusual to see me cry; I wanna die!

Someone’s been plugging the same goddamn Tom Jones song into the jukebox for six minutes now. Eddie feels like he might as well be in hell at this rate. It’d hurt less, he figures.

You and Steve seem to communicate telepathically until he inevitably caves first. He huffs until his puffed-out chest deflates, along with his stupid ego. He doesn’t know how you always seem to be right about everything. He fucking hates it, actually.

“Right. Whatever. I’m gonna go find Robin. She’s probably lost,” Steve deadpans with a sigh as he slides out from the booth. “Want anything?”

“Can you get me—”

“A spicy margarita?” he finishes for you — like he can read your fucking mind, Eddie grouses bitterly to himself. He hates that someone else knows you as well as he does.

You squint. “How’d you know?”

‘Cause it’s your favorite thing to drink after shots, Eddie answers in his head.

“Because we just had tequila shots. And you always want a spicy margarita after tequila shots,” Steve deadpans, then chuckles when your face scrunches. He pokes the very apple of your cheek and turns to the pouty boy across from you. “What about you, Eds? Want another beer while I’m up?”

Eddie shakes his head with a flat face, then takes a sip of his warm and hardly-sipped beer.

“Next round’s on you two, alright? I’m not your fucking boyfriend— you’re not getting free beers off me all night,” Steve chides lightheartedly before disappearing into the crowd. 

You only smile to yourself as he goes. You know he’ll buy the whole damn bar out if you ask him to. ‘Cause that’s what best friends are for and all. Especially when they’re rich.

A groan bubbles in Eddie’s throat when the upbeat song starts all over again. It’s not unusual to be loved by anyone! the man croons. He drops his head to his elbow and bellows an annoyed moan. His chestnut curls spread wild over his shoulders.

You hide your grin behind your fist. “What’s wrong, Eds?”

“Nothin’,” he monotones, face still hidden.

“You haven’t said a word in twenty minutes.”

“Well, Steve hasn’t shut up in about thirty, so…” he retorts and lifts his heavy head, faking a smile as he tilts his flushed cheek to his shoulder. “Getting you two idiots into a room is fuckin’ crazy, you know that, right? Neither of you knows when to stop talking.”

Your nose scrunches. “Well, that’s what usually happens when you have friends, Eddie. You have conversations.”

“You sayin’ I don’t have friends, sweetheart?” he questions with narrowed, chocolate eyes.

“No,” you answer, grinning all pretty. “I’m sayin’ you’re jealous for no reason.”

His face falls flat at having been found out so quickly. Though he figures he wasn’t exactly being discreet about the whole thing. He grumbles and shifts awkwardly in his seat, feeling too seen beneath your unwavering stare.

“Some people are just way too touchy,” he grouses with a boyish sneer on his features, trying desperately to hide his pout behind the amber bottle in his fist. He takes another sip of the lukewarm liquid and averts his gaze.

Your beam widens until it brightens the dim bar. “You’re the one sitting all the way over there, you loon,” you tell him with a soft giggle that squints the edges of your eyes.

Eddie perks at the invitation. His doe eyes flit from the sticky table to your twinkling eyes. He’s been waiting on the offer all night, too much of a coward to ask you himself, and it shows on his suddenly hopeful features.

You nod your head to the empty spot beside you. “Get over here before Steve comes back and starts yapping again.”

Eddie rises with a newfound life, rounding the table and sliding into the squeaky booth beside you. He clutches his beer with his left hand and throws his right around your shoulder. His arm rests over the back of the booth where Steve’s once was, holding you like he’s been dying to all night.

“Better?” you grin.

He nods wordlessly, wild curls tickling your jaw. He takes another sip to hide his quiet smile when you press your lips to the flushed apple of his cheek.

Steve returns then, with your spicy margarita in one hand and Robin’s wrist in the other. She stumbles in behind him and sways in place ahead of the table — freckled cheeks rosy, ocean eyes glassy.

“Have fun?” you wonder with a teasing lilt.

“I saw something shiny on the way back from the bathroom,” the brunette girl confesses in tiny slurs. “Then I get lost…”

You nod sympathetically. “We figured.”

Steve nudges her ahead of him until Robin gets the hint. She slinks gracelessly into the booth. The boy squints as he slides you your drink. “You’re in my seat,” he observes, as if it weren’t blatantly obvious.

Eddie shrugs. “…Yeah?”

“You could’ve just asked to switch,” he scoffs and slips in beside Robin.

“I was fine,” the wild-haired boy insists, then nods his head over to you. “She’s the one that wanted me to move.”

And even though that’s not exactly what happened, you nod anyway. “Yeah. I got too tired of sitting next to you, Stevie,” you tease the boy ahead of you. “Your cologne’s too strong— you smell like a fucking high school boys’ locker room.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you had a ton of experience in those back in the day, didn’t you?” Steve scoffs.

Your eyes narrow. “Dick.”

“Jesus,” Eddie grumbles like a storm cloud. “Stop flirting.”

[johnbrand]

What Friends Are For

"Something wrong, bro?"

“Well of course I noticed. My soles are pretty sore, man, so the longer you go without giving them any attention the stiffer they get."

“Oh, is this about your birthday again? Look, I’m sorry about not texting or coming over, I was too busy. It’s not like you were all alone.”

“You were all alone? Dang, must suck to be you. That would have never happened to me. The bros and I party hard into the night. Don’t you have like a family or something that you could’ve celebrated with?”

“Yikes, I didn’t realize you’re not in contact anymore. Yeah I kind of missed your coming out, but it couldn’t have been that bad. I wish I could’ve been there to back you up but I had an emergency, so I had to put my needs before yours. This total babe I had been flirting with for weeks finally got drunk enough to text me back. By the time morning came around, I had already dumped a load on her titties and two more right up into her–unprotected! Best part was she didn’t remember a thing, so in a few weeks she’ll be in for quite the surprise.”

“Right right, we were talking about you. So your father didn’t take it well. A few bruises too? Yeah, I got some as well, from the gym though. Been experimenting with some new weights but things got a little messy. Don’t worry though, one of my bros was spotting and able to save me from any real damage. Can’t be putting the ladies out of all this masculine perfection, am I right?” 

“Speaking of the gym, they are increasing the membership price in order to finance some new additions. Nothing much, but I'm short a few hundred bucks. Thought you could help me out, you know being that I’m your best friend and all.”

"Dude, what do you mean you 'don't know'? It’s not like I’m asking for that much! Do you even know what this friendship means for you? Or how hard it is for me to be tolerant with such a whiny faggot?”

“Yes, I know I said I would stop trying to use that word. But I did not say it was my first priority, as apparently this friendship isn’t for you. Stop being so selfish, man.”

“See, wasn’t that much easier? You can just Venmo me. In fact, you should make it a recurring payment, that way I don’t have to ask again and then we can skip this whole debacle in the future.”

“Trust me, you won’t be needing that money in the future anyway. What would you have spent it on otherwise? Probably something to stick up your butt, right?"

“Why would you need to buy new bedding? This stuff works perfectly fine. Soft, expensive, and plushy; I always love laying on it. And if anything, my funky gas has only made it more valuable. You know, other fags online buy my sweaty gear, they even beg for it. You should consider yourself lucky that I fart on your bed for free. That’s what friends are for, right?”

“Yeah yeah, no more fag-talk, whatever. Now that your pity party is over, let’s get to work, huh? I’m gonna be out partying with some bros later; you wouldn’t like it, closest bros only. So how about you put those hands of yours to good use, cause these Size 14s are feeling tight! You know, I could get lucky tonight. Pfft, who am I kidding–of course I will!”

[leahswife]

parent trap

author's note: while i do enjoy watching football, do not ask me any rules, i'm a newbie and I'll write whatever even if it's a little delulu thanks :) also this is more of an introduction for what i want to do next and i struggled so much with it, not knowing where to start so im sorry. it's also my first fic so pls don't be mean 😭

summary: in which two little girls unexpectedly come into yours and leah's life and decide to turn it all around with some mischief in the way (and maybe with a little help from kyra)

it was a nice sunny day out. mornings were a bit chilly but for london weather, it was surprisingly tolerable. you had come to work today, knowing you were gonna have some visits to do around the farm to some kids, as your surpervisor had given you a heads up the days before. your farm slash retreat slash sanctuary was situated in a calm area, far from the city noises and it was very big on raising awareness to people, often having visits from schools and groups of scouts, etc.

today you were having a nearby school visit. you and your co-workers were going to be separated into groups so you could show the kids all the animals and activities they could do.

luckily, when the group of 5-8 year olds came by, you were assigned with a small group that was relatively quiet but very interested in what you had to show them and very eager to answer some of your 'trivia' questions about the animals. two little girls, who were very obviously twins, clung a little bit more towards you throughout the visit and while one was more shy to ask you questions, the other one was enthusiastic about giving answers. 

by lunchtime, you and your co-workers gathered all of the kids in the canteen for a much needed break.

in the afternoon, you gathered your group on a table outside, so you could explain what the next part was. "okay, so who wants to feed our little goats?" you said, with a smile and enthusiasm for their obvious answers. "i want to feed tigers!" one of the twins, alba, exclaimed. you opened your mouth in fake shock and put your hands on your hips "did you see any tigers around here, miss alba?" she excitedly nodded. "well I'm sorry to burst your little bubble but we've got no tigers here. what you probably saw was 

oscar, our very grumpy orange cat." she pouted but quickly recovered her giddiness when you all walked towards the goats.

about half an hour later, the groups were dispersing a bit and some kids from your group ran to other kids to help them with other activities they were doing. you were trying not to laugh when you saw some of your colleagues trying to control some of the most energetic children when you felt a little tug on your shirt.

you looked down to see one of the twins, aurora, "y/n, is it true the arsenal team plays around here?" she asked quietly, with a shy smile on her face. you crouched down to her height and alba joined in on your little group. you were about to answer when alba quickly whispered "can we go see them??". you chuckled "let me check with my boss and your teachers, yeah? but you gotta keep it a secret from your friends, okay? or else everyone will want to go and right now, that's not possible." they both pretended to zip their mouths and nodded.

after you got the approval from their teachers and your supervisor to take them away for a little while, with a warning to not cause too much trouble, you signaled to the two girls to come after you. you walked out of the farm and they both stood on your sides holding your hands. it was about a 5 minute walk from your little farm to the arsenal training grounds, you knew the girls quite well as they were regular visitors and have done some charity work for the farm so visiting each others' work place to hang out in your free time wasn't uncommon.

"who are you guys excited to meet?" you smiled down at them. "all of them!" they both answered and you were a little surprised at aurora's raise of voice but happy she was feeling more comfortable around you. you had worked with many kids over the years but there were always ones that, for some reason, tugged at your soft heart and these two little girls had done it today. 

as you reached arsenal's training centre, you smiled and greeted the staff as you moved with the girls towards the field you knew the girls were at. 

the first person to caught your eye was obviously your big crush, leah williamson, who was sipping on some water as you approached her. "hey, williamson!" you kicked her butt with your foot since your hands were still holding the twins. that startled her and she turned around with a frown on her face, "hey!" she argued, but her frown quickly dissipated when she saw it was you and pushed you playfully. "asshole." "leah!" you quickly gestured to the girls with your head.

"oh, sh–, sorry!" she grimaced as the little girls looked at each other and giggled. you rolled your eyes at leah and introduced them, "leah, this is aurora," you raised the little blonde's hand on your left "and this is alba" who raised her spare hand immediately with a toothy grin. 

leah leaned down with a smile on her face "hi, i'm leah, nice to meet you" they both blushed, intimidated by being right in front of england's captain but their shyness quickly went away when leah asked if they wanted to meet everybody. they quickly nodded with excitement and the blonde led them to meet the rest of team.

you sat on the benches as you watched them all interact, the twins thrilled to meet some of their favourite players. you knew they were in good hands, so you shifted your gaze to leah, who had the biggest smile on her face as she got to play some football with the children.

"staring, are we?" you jumped a bit as kyra sat down next to you with a smirk on her face. you rolled your eyes "uhh, in case you haven't noticed, kyra cooney-cross, i'm keeping an eye out for those under my care." she rolled her eyes at you using her full name, it was a joke between you two when you wanted to annoy each other, but went back to teasing you "oh, i think your eyes are out for someone else y/f/n." "oh, and i think you're supposed to be training, not here biting my ass." she groaned and leaned on your shoulder, "but it's so much fun to annoy you" you smiled at your best friend and tugged on her hair bun. "go meet some people your age" you headed towards the twins and let out a little laugh as she pushed you. "i can't help annoying someone when they're so annoyingly in lo– ah!" you quickly elbowed her as you saw leah running over to you two.

"are you two fighting again?" leah raised her eyebrow with an amused smile on her face. "no, i'm doing you all a favour and putting her in her place." you said, shoving kyra as she stuck her tongue out at you. "i'm off to meet my fans, excuse you." kyra stands up and runs over to the small blondes playing with alessia and katie but not before winking at you behind leah's back.

"they are absolutely lovely." leah chuckled as she turns back to you. "right?? honestly, some of my favourite kids to come by the farm." "maybe it's because they kind of look like me." leah smirked and you couldn't help but scoff, "oh please, you wish you were that cute." she huffed and put her hands on your knees, leaning towards your face to bite the tip of your nose, a habit she learned from kyra in her many tactics to annoy you. you scrunched your nose and pretended to be annoyed by it, hiding how much you wanted leah to bite you basically everywhere and anywhere. in a way, you wish she knew how she made your heart almost combust with the amount of physical touch she was prone to giving you, maybe she would be kind enough to put you out of your misery. however, you couldn't help but crave these little moments, you would take anything leah would give you, even if it meant keeping your feelings to yourself and being content with being just friends.

that moment didn't last long as you both turned your heads behind leah's back when you heard a little scream and you saw kyra, alessia and katie on the ground checking up on aurora. you and leah quickly ran over to see what happened and saw aurora had scraped her knee. leah asked someone to get the first aid kit to disinfect the wound and turned back to aurora to rub her back and console her. "hey little one, how are you feeling?" you asked softly, but she was quick to put on a brave face and say she was fine. "you sure? we can call your parents to come get you if you want." you said, wanting to make sure the twin felt comfortable and safe. 

"we don't have parents." alba said nonchalantly while holding aurora's hand. that caught you and the girls around you off guard. "what do you mean, alba?" you frowned in confusion. "we live in a foster home!" the little girl exclaimed as alessia came over with the first aid kit and gave it to leah, who started to disinfect aurora's knee. "ohhh… in that case, i can call your carers if you want." "that's okay, it doesn't hurt that bad." aurora gave you a smile that only grew bigger when leah gave her a high five and praised how brave she was.

soon enough it was time to go back to the farm with the girls as the school was about to leave. the team said their goodbyes and the twins thanked them all, still mesmerized by getting to play with them for a bit. as you returned with them to the farm, they both hugged you and thanked you too for taking them to meet the team. you were a bit caught off guard but quickly melted and rubbed their little heads. you felt a weird pang in your heart as you watched them leave but just brushed it off as you being emotional and went on with the rest of your day.

quickly after that encounter though, the twins did not take much long to appear again at the farm. they became regular visitors and your bond grew stronger, often taking them to see arsenal and the team quickly became used to them as well. it was also not a surprise to anybody that when the girls were around, you and leah stepped up as the responsible figures for them, always making sure they were fine and always the ones they came to when they needed something. 

one afternoon, after work, you had taken the girls to the training centre and they were playing with kyra as you were talking to leah. "you know you shouldn't cut your hair right after you have a bad game, right?" you giggled as you flicked the strands of her new fringe. "hey! it is not because we had a bad game. i am a fashion trender. i make things a trend." she took off her head band to fluff her fringe with her hands and posed for you. 

"riiiight, i almost forgot you were 'the powerful, the brilliant, the leah williamson'" she was quick to give you a mocking smile, clearly displeased with the overused quote. "well yes, i am brilliant and powerful but you can't deny i have an amazing fashion sense!" "i don't think impulsively getting a haircut after a bad game falls into that category, though" you couldn't help but giggle at her frown. soon, she took matters into her own hands and grabbed your waist to start tickling you at your sides, something that made you squeal and try to get away from her, screaming for help. "stop screaming, you baby!" she stopped the tickling but pulled you in close to kiss the top of your head.

meanwhile, kyra, alba and aurora had stopped their game and were watching you and leah interact. "are they girlfriends?" aurora asked kyra. kyra looked down at them and shook her head "as much as it pains me to say, no, they aren't." alba quickly looked at aurora with a mischievous smile in her face.

"you're thinking what i'm thinking?"

"i'm thinking what you're thinking."

a/n: also if you want to send in some requests regarding this fic, you're welcome to do so :)

[thelovelyruin]

𝖘𝖎𝖗𝖊𝖓.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘 : choso x fem reader

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖓 : you weren’t a car girl, but that changed when you met the driver.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓 : smut, porn with plot, vaginal sex, praise, teasing, fingering, edging?

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖙 : 3.2K

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗 : inspired by lyrics from siren by alicia drayton.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘 : hello lovelies, thank you so much for reading! one of my favorite songs; hope you enjoy it; if so, follow me for more. au revoir!

18+ MDNI ADULT CONTENT

Full moon sitting in the darkest night.

“So, sounds fun, right?”

“Huh? Yeah, sure.”

You kinda just agreed to whatever Mai said, busy doing your makeup and humming to the music playing from your speaker. But it wasn’t until a few hours later that you realized what you’d agreed to. You both were sitting outside now, waiting for Yuuji to pick you up, but he was ten minutes late. When he did pull up, he parked fast, seeing Mai’s already irritated expression. Hesitantly, he walked over to where you both stood. 

“Heyyyyy…”

Mai pushed past him, brushing off his attempt at a hug.

“Save it, bitch.”

Yuuji ran before her, opening the door, which she thanked him for in the form of a sneer. He looked at you next, hoping for a more positive reaction as he guided you to the backseat.

“Are you mad at me too?”

“If I were, it would be in good reason. You’re late.”

He closed the door behind you and scrambled to the driver’s seat, promptly turning on the car and attempting to show he was in a rush.

“Look, I’m sorry, I ended up-”

“Just drive, Yuuji!”

Mai wasn’t giving him a break; not like he deserved one. He huffed and put the car in drive, taking off. You guys were going to a car meet; Yuuji was excited to show off the car he’d just finished modding, a WRX or something like that. To be honest, you didn’t know too much about cars, except what Yuuji would tell you, but that would involve you paying attention. Nonetheless, you wanted to be a supportive friend, so here you were.

Feel a breeze, smoking trees, cloudy in the ride.

Yuuji pulled up to a lot full of cars, parking in an empty spot towards the middle of the row. You noticed some cars in an intersection next to the lot, driving in circles as people hung out the windows. You weren’t gonna lie; it looked a little fun, dangerous, but fun. Yuuji got out, opening each of your doors.

“So, I’ll probably stay here if anyone asks questions about my ride, but feel free to check things out!”

“You brought us here so we could frolic around? Yuuji, you’ve gotta be shittin’ me right now.”

“Now, don’t say it like that. It makes me sound like an asshole.”

The both of you looked at him with a deadpan expression, but then he gave those puppy dog eyes, causing Mai to rub down her face.

“Fine, but you owe us big time. Let’s go see what they're doing in the circle over there.”

With that, you and Mai walked off. Yuuji told you to stay safe, but Mai’s reply was a middle finger. The air was smoky and smelled like burnt rubber, but you guys still pushed through the crowd to see the action. Cars were drifting in a circle now, another car coming in the rotation, probably the most dangerous thing you’ve ever seen.

Two of the cars drifting had pulled off to the side, and from what you could tell, the drivers were arguing. A couple of guys tried to break it up, but one flipped the other guy off as they both hopped in the driver's seat.

Narrow roads, so many caution signs.

“Shit, they’re about to race!”

You hadn’t even heard Yuuji walk up behind you guys, Mai looking back at him with a smirk.

“So, why aren’t you with your “ride”? No takers?”

Yuuji huffed, making her laugh triumphantly. The circle began to shift, noticing a gap opening as the two cars revved, one all white and the other blue with a black stripe across the side. You found the white one more tasteful, pointing at it and looking back at Yuuji.

“Oh, that one? An Audi S5. Other one’s a Scat.”

You nodded like you knew what he meant and looked back as some shirtless guy got between the cars, throwing it down. Instantly, both cars take off, the white one gapping the blue one by a long shot.

“I don’t know why he even bothered. The launch on the S5 is insane.”

As the cars finished, people began cheering; even Mai was clapping and nodding. They drove back to the lot where the cars were lined up. The Scat driver handed the S5 driver a wad of cash, returned to his car, and drove off.

“Damn, sore loser. Anyway, I wanna meet the guy who drove the S5. Y’all sit tight, okay?”

Before Mai could even curse him out, Yuuji had run off. You two scoffed and sat on the hood of his car.

“So, you upgraded the intercooler? I did the same to mine, it’s a W-”

“Welcome back, fucker. You brought a friend?”

Yuuji had returned to the car with a guy, and damn he was hot. You were too busy staring at his abs pressed against that black tee he was wearing or the outline of something that surely wasn’t his wallet in his sweats to stop Mai from chewing Yuuji out.

“This is Choso; he’s driving the S5.”

Shotgun sippin’; rollin' with the tide.

Choso looked at you and licked his lips, sending something down to your-

“Nice to meet you, really nice to meet you.”

You were blushing like crazy. Was he flirting with you? You were too enthralled to notice Yuuji and Mai going back and forth in the background.

“Nice to meet you, too.”

“So, you guys stayin' around for shots? I’d hate to see you go so early.”

Oh, he was definitely flirting with you.

“Depends. Want me to stay?

“If that’s fine with you, princess.”

“What we drinkin’?”

“Your choice.”

“Hm, whatever your drinkin’.”

He looked up and down at you, smirking a bit.

“I’ve got something in mind.”

“Is that so?”

“UM HELLO!”

You both turned to look at Mai, who had a surprised look on her face as Yuuji stood there in shock. Choso cleared his throat and gave an awkward smile to Mai.

“That is if you want to stay too, Mai.”

“Well, depends. What do you wanna drink, other than my best friend?”

You choked on your spit as your body jolted at Mai’s question. Yuuji began to laugh uncontrollably, walking up to Choso and slapping him on the back.

“Don’t worry, I got tequila in the trunk.”

“Oh shit, what kind?”

“Terramana, of course.”

“My man. I gotta bottle, too; I’ll go grab it.”

With that, Choso and Yuuji split. Mai gave you that look.

“Didn’t know you liked car guys.”

“I do now.”

You both laughed as she wrapped her arm around you, bringing you in for a hug. Shortly, Choso and Yuuji were back.

“Let’s get lit, fuckers.”

Want you to love me like you do that S5.

You knew Yuuji and Choso had at least three shots, but right now, they both were going on about the mods they did on their cars. You had found yourselves back in the circle of people drifting.

“Looks fun, huh?”

“Yeah, a fun death trap.”

“Nonsense, people do it all the time.”

Choso looked over at Yuuji, both of them with the expression that they were up to something.

Oh my, Ima give you the ride of your life.

You found yourself in Choso’s passenger seat, staring at Mai in Yuuji’s across the circle. You can’t believe you got dragged into this; what the fuck were you-

Choso’s hand found its way to your thigh, rubbing the skin there as he looked at you with a smirk.

“Nervous? Don’t worry, princess. I got you.”

It took everything in you not to jump on him then and there. Those pet names were dangerous; every time he called you princess, it sent signals down below, practically screaming at you to relieve it. You hadn’t even realized his hand had moved to the gear shift, veins in his hand flexing as he revved the engine. Then, you were taking off.

You swear you just died. The whole time, you could hear the rubber screeching smoke lifting off the tires as Choso and Yuuji spun against each other. Halfway through, you saw Mai climb through the window; you did the same, and man, was it fun. Both of them parked and spilled out of the car, laughing and giving each other a high five, panting with adrenaline. You walked over to Mai, who looked like she was 10 seconds away from barfing.

“You good, girl?”

“I think I might’ve pissed myself.”

The boys walked back over, calmed down as the high wore off. Choso wrapped his arm around your waist, and boy, was that physically effective. Yuuji patted Mai’s back, giving him an annoyed look as she sat up straight. He smiled at her with open eyes, signaling something to her. She caught on fast because then she said:

“Yuuji’s gonna drive me home; Choso lives on the same side of town as you, so he’ll be takin’ you home. That okay?”

Oh, they were on some shit. But obviously, the two of you were, too.

“Yeah, that’s fine with me. Choso?”

“Sounds good, princess.”

I swear, I would die for you.

You waved bye to Mai as Yuuji helped her into the car, giving you a wink as Yuuji drove off. Choso guided you back to his car, opening the passenger door. Once you got in, you had a good look around, too nervous to check things out the first time you got in it. Damn, this was nice. He had red leather seats and ambient red lighting around the car. Shit, how much did this car cost? Choso got in the car and put his foot down on the pedal, starting the car as he adjusted the air conditioning.

“You cold?”

“Just a little.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll warm you up.”

Oh, you were warm, alright. It’s like every word he spoke had a sexual undertone because here you were, getting wet over a question about the AC. He reached over and turned on the heated seat for you, smirking as he pressed the button. He placed his hand back on your thigh, rubbing back and forth; all you could focus on was how close he was to touching your pussy. He looked at you with half-lidded eyes, causing you to squirm your legs. It hadn’t gone unnoticed him smiling as he bit his lip.

“Ready?”

Ready for what? At that point, you gave up the idea of celibacy for the night, like you had any intentions to not fuck him in the first place. Now, you knew this wasn’t a good idea. The both of you were tipsy, and it was probably reckless to have him drive. But then again, he had just drifted the car thirty minutes ago, so he’d be fine, right?

“Yeah, let’s go.”

You know I'd risk my life for you.

We fit so perfectly, in need of your affection.

The ride back to your house was pretty fast, considering Choso ran every red light and was going 20 over the speed limit. You had half a mind to hold the handlebars on the car's roof, but you weren't doing anything with Choso's hand rubbing you through your shorts. Your body began to react to it, closing your legs a bit, but it was all in vain when he brought your thigh towards him, opening your legs wider. 

“Don’t go runnin’ from me, princess. Promise, I don’t bite. Unless you want me to.”

You held everything in, taking the depths of your resolve to stop you from shamelessly asking him to fuck you in the car. He was definitely holding it in, too, a tent peeking out of those gray sweats, and fuck, you could tell, he had a big-

“We’re here, sweetheart.”

You sigh in relief as you realize you were in your apartment’s parking lot. He came around to open your door, those hungry eyes gazing at you as you climbed out of the seat. As soon as you were out of the car, Choso had you pinned against it, claiming your mouth as his as he grabbed your waist. Those eyes might have been hungry, but his mouth was greedy. He had moved onto your neck, sucking the skin there. Fuck, you were still outside, and you were sure he’d fuck you right here if you let him. You grabbed his hand and dragged him behind you to your apartment.

“Let’s go.”

I think I want more.

You couldn’t open that damn door fast enough. As soon as you turned around to lock it, Choso was behind you, kissing your neck and grabbing your ass as he ground it against his painfully hard dick. He flipped you towards him, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

“Which room?”

“Furthest back.”

Oh, yeah, I need more of your intensity.

Choso damn near threw you on the bed, taking his shirt off as fast as possible. You didn’t even get a chance to check out his abs; he was already on you, bringing your shirt up and sucking the skin on your chest as he pulled it over your head. You watched as he unbuckled your shorts, swiftly pulling them and your panties down. The only thing left was your bra, which was not of concern right now, considering he had pulled it down so your tits could spill out. He groaned as he brought his mouth down to your nipple, bringing his fingers up to pump in and out of your pussy. Now, he was usually a bit more gentle than this; take it real slow and careful. But you two had been edging each other all night, and he needed to taste you. Now.

Love when you speed; no need to speak. 

The first swipe of his tongue nearly had you crashing, having been teased for twenty minutes in the car. It wasn’t until he slipped his tongue in you that you had to pull your strength together to not cum so fast.

“Cum for me, princess. Stop holding back.”

God, his voice was too much. So much, you came on his face, just like he asked you to. He groaned as he slurped up your juices, face completely covered in your essence, but he honestly did not give a single fuck. He was a man in heaven. He grabbed both your thighs and pinned your body down, eating you out for a second round, craving how your body jerked when he made you cum. This time, you didn’t have the will to hold out. Still recovering from the first orgasm, the second wasn’t far behind. You groaned his name in defeat, knowing you were about to cum again.

“Choso…”

“Mhm, baby. Give it to me.”

In seconds, your body was moving out of your control again, gripping his hair and pinning his face to your pussy. As you came down, you ground your hips against his face, making him chuckle.

“Fuck, I need you, princess.”

I know you want more…

Choso couldn’t get his pants off fast enough. His dick was about to jump out his boxers; if he got any harder, it probably would’ve ripped through them. Positioning himself over top of you, he kissed you and brought his finger up to put your wetness on his shaft.

“Ready for me?”

You gave him a nod, gripping his shoulders as he slid inside you. Once he was all the way in, he brought his lips down to your neck, experimentally pulling his hips back and forth slowly, making sure you had adjusted to his size. Fortunately for him, teasing for hours and two orgasms later, you took him instantly. Damn, he was big. You moaned loudly at the feeling of him stretching you out, arching your back off the bed as he fucked you steadily. His face was inches away from yours, every couple of thrusts coming down to kiss you, throwing his head back to get his hair out of his face, damp with sweat from how good he was fucking you. And you were sure to let him know just how good he was giving it to you, moaning his name out like a damn siren, pulling him into your pussy as he picked up the pace.

…Ima give you more.

Fast, deep, slow, he didn’t care. He was gonna give it to you however you needed wanted it. He didn’t expect you to want to ride him, though, climbing over him and sinking down on his dick; boy wasn’t that a sight to see. He was losing his mind; you fucked him at a fast pace, tits jumping every time you brought your pussy back down to his hips. Fuck, you were perfect. You were doing magic on him, had to be; he swears he’s never had pussy this good. At this point, he needed to see you crumble again, so he took some initiative and grabbed your hips, fucking his dick into you rapidly.

“Choso, oh my god!”

“You like that princess?”

You were too fucked out to answer. Every thrust made you dizzy, putting your hands on his chest to steady yourself. Then there was that goddamn look on his face. His eyes were on you like a wild animal, groaning as you slid up and down his shaft. You wanted to see how much of a reaction you could get out of him, rolling your hips as his eyes rolled back. He was gonna cum soon, but he needed you to cum first.

Want you to love me like you do that S5, oh my.

He’s back on top, bringing your thighs up to his chest, getting as deep as possible. You were a blabbering mess at this point, and all he could do was smile as you tried to grab at the sheets, pussy about to give in at any second. With a quick dive, his lips came up to yours, his thumb reaching up to rub your clit. Every moan you gave went into his mouth, tongue exploring it as you came undone on his dick. And it felt fucking amazing. Your pussy clenched down on him, driving him crazy, your body squirming as you came hard from your third orgasm of the night.

Are you ready for the ride of your life?

He was done for. The feeling of your pussy tightening on him was too much, your moans of his name sounding like music to his ears. He didn’t even care anymore. Shamelessly, he moaned your name and whimpered into your neck as he came. God, it was like a fucking firecracker, his body feeling things it hadn't felt before. He had only fucked you this once, but fuck, he was addicted. He fell to your side, panting for a bit before getting up.

“Where’s your bathroom?”

I swear I would die for you.

He returned with a wet washcloth, cleaning the cum from your pussy and stomach, chuckling when you whimpered from the overstimulation of him cleaning around your clit. When he was done, he came and laid beside you, bringing you into his arms. You felt his head rest on yours, kissing your forehead lightly. Then, you realized that he would have to drive-

“Can I stay the night?”

“Hm, maybe. What do I get in return?”

“If you’re good, another round when we wake up.”

“I guess that’s better than you driving home drunk.”

“You mean “us.” I’m sleeping with you either way.”

You know I'd risk my life for you.

♱ the song used in this story is siren by alicia drayton.🖤 

(edit: i now know about cars😭)

♱ masterlist.

♱ all fics playlist.

𝖆𝖚 𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖔𝖎𝖗, 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖞𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖓.

[muzansfangs]

Guilty pleasure.

Starring: Muzan x reader; Kokushibo, Douma, Akaza and Nakime.

Warnings: nsfw, modern au, loss of virginity, language, sugar daddy dynamics, age gap (Muzan is 35, reader is 21), vaginal sex, reference to cheating, unprotected sex, creampie, dom!muzan, sub!reader, vaginal fingering, light choking.

Plot: Kokushibo comes to pick you up and he helps you with the move. During the car ride, Muzan texts you and blatantly tells you that he intends to have sex with you that very night. You spend the day exploring your new house, interacting with the other two bodyguards, until Muzan finally joins you for dinner. He seems genuinely interested in you and your habits and, when he leads you to his bedroom, you can clearly tell he is definitely invested into exploring every inch of your body.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello, there!

I’ve finally been able to update the second part of this short series. I hope you’re going to enjoy the reading and thank you so much for the support you’re showing me! Make sure to read the first part, before you proceed in reading this one. Things are finally getting started down here ;). Likes, comments and reposts are appreciated!

PART ONE| PART TWO| PART THREE| PART FOUR| PART FIVE | PART SIX

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CORRUPTION.

“How’s Mr. Kibutsuji?” you asked, shooting an interrogative glance at Kokushibo through the rear-view mirror of the car. Time had really flown and, before you could mentally prepare yourself to the radical change in your life, it was already Sunday and you had just locked the front door of your apartment, pestered by uncertainties about your new busy schedule and, most likely, new life-style.

“He is a respectful, classy man, miss L/N” the driver flatly replied, not averting his eyes from the road. It was your third failed attempt to make a small conversation with the stolid man, who was most likely going to be your bodyguard as well. You had had the chance to read all the clauses of the contract and it did not seem unpleasing. Except for your lack of privacy, due to being followed and watched in every step you took by a potential serial killer.

If you had to spend hours in Kokushibo’s company, then you would have liked to know him better, at least.

You sighed and rested your forehead against the cold car window “Yeah, I know. – you said, batting your eyes close for a few seconds – Do you think we could ever be friends? I mean, you’re going to be my shadow for the rest of my life. It’s weird and I… Uhm, well, I’d like to feel comfortable around you” you said, opting for a blatant request.

You were spontaneous, honest, and best known for speaking your thoughts without fear, or remorse. You would have surely not changed your attitude for a contract. Plus, it was not like you were rude. You liked to think yourself free to say and do whatever you pleased. Well, at least, when you were safe from prying eyes.

It took a few seconds for Kokushibo to reply something, but eventually he did and a skeptical “As you wish, ma’am” left his lips.

You rolled your eyes, palming your forehead in defeat. It was a lost cause, was it not? Nevertherless, it was your second time interacting with him. There was still a dim hope of breaking through his detached heart.

“Y/N, call me Y/N” you breathed out, expecting some kind of reaction from the taciturn bodyguard. However, he kept his mouth shut and you realised that, perhaps, Kokushibo was not just a man of few words: he probably found it odd that ‘the boss’s fiancé’ wanted to strike up a conversation with him.

You were about to pest him again with another sapless question, when your phone buzzed. You thought it was one of your friends, or maybe your collegues from the small restaurant you worked in. Some of them were heartbroken, when you announced them you had to resign for personal reasons. You could only imagine their faces, when they would have seen your face on the newspapers as Muzan’s wife.

You had still not filled up anyone with the fresh news, chiefly because you were not sure about the outcome of this arranged relationship.

However, when you read the text, you wheezed and clasped your hand over your mouth not to draw Kokushibo’s attention. Funny how you had acted as an attention seeker for fifteen minutes straight and now you were practically ducking your head down not to let him see your reflection in the rear-view mirror. Two words. He had opted for two mere words and your world had stopped revolving.

MUZAN: Sex. Tonight.

Your heart thrummed in your chest as you had to reread the text over and over again to check if you had read it correct. You had exchanged numbers before you left his house and you expected him to text you, at least, once or twice in the past few days. Yet, he had not called or even sent you a trivial message. Nothing. You did not quite expect him to demand a sexual performance from you, out of the blue. You were totally in, of course you were. Muzan Kibutsuji was handsome as Hell, you had always drooled after him, whenever the daily reports showed pictures and videos of him, especially during a conference.

You had accepted the terms of the contract without blinking. Having a sexual intercourse with him was a pleasing activity.

The thing was you were a virgin. Well, you had only experience with giving oral. That was the furthest you had gone with your ex. You knew that sooner or later it would have happened and you were electrified by the idea of giving yourself to him. He was a famous womanizer, unfortunately, but he was surely someone who had plenty of experience and knew how to treat a woman in bed.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me…” you uttered under your breath, cheeks flushing up as you stared at the screen of your phone thunderstruck.

“What did you say, mi–… Y/N?” Kokushibo said, an ounce of concern and awkwardness echoing in his words. At the sound of your name leaving his lips, you squealed out in joy and almost forgot that fact that he had just heard you swearing. It did not matter anymore because he had just made progress, censuring himself even!

“Ah, yes! You got it, then! – you beamed, leaning forward until your chin almost rested over his shoulder – We’re going to be best buddies!” you said, watching how his hold on the steering wheel grew tighter. The tips of his ears were now tinted in a vivid shade of red and you chuckled, before sinking back onto your seat and texted a reply to Muzan.

You: I’d love that, Mr. Kibutsuji.

It did not take a lot for him to reply and, when he did, your breath hitched in your throat and you shoved your phone back into your bag.

Muzan: In a few hours, you’re going to forget how to properly sit for a week.

It was definitely going to be an unforgettable first day at the Kibutsuji manor.

♚

You expected to share the bedroom with Muzan. He had not mentioned that you could pick a guest room and sleep in there, until you felt comfortable enough to lay down next to him. You were taken aback, naturally, but you were glad he wanted you to settle down without any pressure. He was not imposing his authority on you, his presence in your life was not suffocating you… Yet.

He seemed a gentleman, but you barely knew him. What if things degenerated? You refused to believe it and all you focused on was the present and, as for now, he was not troubling you in any way.

Once you were finally done unpacking, Kokushibo told you he would have taken his leave to run an errand for Muzan and you were free to do whatever you pleased in the meanwhile.

“Wait, can I come with you? I… Well, I don’t want to be alone” you said, rubbing the back of your neck as you shot the most pleading glance at the man you had enjoyed annoying all day long.

Kokushibo quirked an eyebrow up “You are not alone, actually. – he simply replied, straightening his jacket – Douma and Akaza are in the basement. I can accompany you there…” the man said, folding his arms against his chest. Only then, when he flexed his arms, you noticed how muscular he actually was.

He had large shoulders, a broad chest and, most likely, a chiseled set of abs down his stomach. Well, damn, did Muzan really have to choose hot men as his bodyguards? Ignoring your dirty, inappropriate thought, you vigorously nodded your head and followed him down the corridor, hoping that the other two assassins were not as good-looking as Kokushibo. Your hopes, though, crushed down, when, hopping down from the elevator, you were met with two piercing golden eyes and fascinating multicolored hues.

The taller one, silvery hair and a malicious grin plastered over his face was the first one who spoke “Ah, there she is! I knew she was the perfect candidate for this job. Such a pity I could not ask her out…” he complained, discarding his phone on the counter of the bar area and strolling towards you.

He was magnetic, his smile so bright and malicious that could have enlighten the whole city during a blackout.

“Back off, Douma. – the short guy, sipping a glass of what you assumed to be cognac, hissed from the stool he was sitting on – Touch her and I’ll shoot you” he stated, slamming the shot onto the counter carelessly.

You let out a nervous laughter and flashed a thin-lipped smile at them, before greeting the rest of Muzan’s army “Akaza and Douma, right? Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N L/N” you introduced yourself, waving your hand at them sheepishly.

You wondered if Akaza really meant what he had said and your eyes betrayed your thoughts, making Douma sneer and grasp your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

You could feel his breath fanning the tip of your nose, his slender frame towering over you as his half-lidded, mystical eyes scanned your face. He really did not know what personal space was, did he?

“Ah, look at you! Adorable, just adorable! Akaza loves to bully me, but he could never lay a finger on the second in command! Muzan-sama would kill him himself! – Douma chimed, tugging at your hand softly and leading you towards the bar – Now, now, let’s grab a glass of scotch and have a chit-chat, shall we?” he suggested, winking at you.

You had no idea of what to do and say. He seemed friendly, far way easier to talk to than Kokushibo, and, since they were going to be your protectors too, it was a good idea getting to know them better.

Before you could talk, Kokushibo’s deep voice pierced your ears and you both froze in your tracks “Take care of her. Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes” he stated, glancing at the two men menacingly, before nodding your head in your direction and hastily leaving the basement.

You watched him leave, your stomach clenching, as you realised that you would have been able to see Muzan in a while. You were not nervous about the dinner, but you had to admit that the idea of undressing in front of him and moaning into his mouth was doing numbers on you.

What if he changed his mind because you had almost zero experience?

You sighed and Douma snaked his arm around your waist, leading you to the stool next to Akaza’s one. As you sat down, you swallowed the lump in your throat and propped your elbows on the counter, eyes transfixed on the crystal bottle of liquor in front of you.

“Can I have a glass of whatever it is, please?” you whispered, earning a chuckle from Douma.

“Bad day?” Akaza asked you, reaching his hand out to grab a glass and the bottle you had been staring at almost lustfully.

You shrugged and flicked your gaze up to meet his golden eyes “Kind of… – you breathed out, as he slided the now filled glass towards you on the polished surface of the counter – I’m not used to be treated like a princess. Everything’s great, don’t get me wrong. I guess it’ll take some time for me to adapt” you said, grasping the glass and dawning a small sip of the alcoholic drink. It burned down your throat and you took a deep breath not to cough up at their faces.

Akaza grinned and cocked his head to the side, his pink eyelashes contrasting with the shimmering hues beneath them “You know, I thought you were a bitch. That’s because Douma found you and he usually has bad tastes in women” he said, making you choke on yiur drink.

What?

You settled the glass back on the counter, eyes daggers on Akaza as he just giggled at your reaction. What did he mean by ‘Douma found you’? You knew that someone had clearly spied on you, you just were startled to find out it was the jovial silver-haired man who had welcomed you in the basement.

“Yeah, he’s stalked you for months!” he added, running his ringed fingers through his spiky hair.

Your head whipped, eyes finally locking with Douma’s ones, demanding at least an apology for having invaded your privacy “How many photographs of me have you taken?” you asked him, quirking an eyebrow up.

He smiled brightly at you and shrugged “Uhm… Probably over twothousand. You know, Muzan-sama became obsessed with you when I showed him the first picture of you I had taken!” he casually declared, as if it was not the creepiest thing to say to someone.

Muzan became obsessed with you?

You shivered, biting the insides of your cheeks in discomfort. How many things did he know about you? Why was he so obsessed with you, a common civilian who was trying to graduate and pay for her studies by working night-shifts at a restaurant?

“Tell me you have not broken into my house, at least” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose.

Silence. Did he?

You gasped and clasped a hand over your mouth in shock and Douma jabbed his finger at Akaza accusingly “Hey, I was not alone! He came with me countless times!” he protested, earning a scornful look from the pink-haired guy.

“Sure I did! I was afraid you were going to follow her into the bathroom, you perv!” Akaza yelled, slamming his fist onto the counter and leaning towards him, despite you being in his way.

“Okay, okay! Stop it you two!” you interjected, blocking Akaza’s view on the taller man.

“See? You made Y/N-chan upset!” Douma rebuked Akaza, folding his arms against his chest and giving him an annoyed side-eye.

Well, they were hilarious. You were glad that two out of the three bodyguards were not as stiff as Kokushibo. They were amusing, even, and they had made the revelation about how you ended up in Muzan’s house less scary than it was. A politician could not be an saint and Muzan was surely far from being one.

Before you could open your mouth to say something, a feminine voice echoed from the entrance of the basement and you three switched your attention on the brunette woman staring at you.

She was probably a little bit older than you. Long, chocolate brown hair and crimson-red lipstick exalting her pale skin, she wore a black tailleur, the skirt being way too short though, and revealing a black, leather suspender with a sharp knife in it. She seemed lathal and she was absolutely beautiful, although you could barely see her eyes.

“Master Muzan’s waiting for you, miss L/N” she coldly said and you clumsily hopped down from the stool to walk towards the elevator not to piss her off. She did not seem like the type you would have messed with, plus you had never seen her before.

“Ah, Nakime-dono… – Douma suavely addressed her – I wondered where were you”.

You passed by her and she bowed her head at you “Enjoy your meal, ma’am. Nobody will disturb you and the Master tonight” she said and you felt a wave of cold sweat running down your back. Were you ready for it?

♚

You were sitting across from him. His plum red eyes boring into yours, as he watched you bringing the spoon to your mouth and repress a moan of pleasure, when the delicious rice met your yearning taste buds.

You had been talking about everything. He seemed eager to know everything about you. Your studies, what you would have loved to do after your graduation, your hobbies, your family. He found you fascinating, adorable.

“It looks like I’ve chosen something you like, doesn’t it? – he commented, a faint smile adorning his lips as you blushed and shyly nodded your head – You can ask the chef to cook whatever you please for lunch tomorrow” he added, clearing his throat.

Seriously?

You smiled at him and settled the silver spoon onto the now empty plate “Thank you so much, Muzan. I will try to pick something you can enjoy too!” you said softly.

He did not reply, he just stood up, consuming the five strides dividing you two in a nick of time and swiftly grasping your chin between his forefinger and thumb. It was time for him to claim you, was it not? Your cheeks seemed to burn under his intense gaze and firm touch and you mouth went suddenly dry.

“Come with me, baby” he whispered, after a few seconds. His hand left your chin, his fingertips grazing down the tender flesh of your neck, travelling down its length and stopping right above your cleavage.

You nodded your head and he wrapped his hand around your wrist, pulling you up and closer to him. He leaned down, until his nose brushed against yours and you batted your eyes close in anticipation. You felt butterflies fluttering into your stomach and, by the time he swept you off of your feet and cradled you in his arms, you knew he had already won your heart.

You clung to him, feet dangling in the air as he led you to his majestic bedroom. He banged the door open, entering in and not caring about closing it behind you. When he dropped ruthlessly onto the bed, your eyes snapped open and you saw the lustful gaze he had trailed on you. The tent in his pants was prominent and you pushed yourself up on your elbows, biting on your lower lip nervously.

He smirked down at you unbuckling the belt with one hand “Take your clothes off. Now” he demanded, throwing it away and unzipping his pants.

“Yes, sir” you murmured, proceeding in kneeling on the bed to pull the simple pink dress you were wearing above your head. You felt his gaze on you, you felt it soaking in every curve of your body, searching for the proof that you were as excited as him. And he found it.

Your white virginal panties had an evident dump he did not fail to notice. You stared up at him and he pulled his shaft out of the tight fabric of his black boxers, giving it a few pumps. It was huge, it would have hurt like Hell and you gulped nervously as you hesitantly pulled your panties down your thighs, exposing your untouched flower at his vicious eyes.

“Fuck” he grunted, crawling over the bed and grasping you by your hips. You squirmed as he pushed you down onto the mattress, his fingers snatching the panties away from your ankles and discarding them somewhere behind him.

“S-Sir, please… Be gentle, I’m a virgin” you blurted out, earning a dumbfounded glance from the raven-haired man.

He could not believe his eyes. You, the young and lovely girl he was about to mark as his property was actually a virgin. He chuckled, parting your legs and grazing your chaste entrance with his pointer finger. You shuddered under his touch, your juices coating the pad of his digit as he slowly shoved it inside you.

You yelped, his other hand pushing your hips down to keep you in place “Your admission just made me feral. Are you under birth-control?” he huskily asked you, pumping the finger in and out of soaked, tight cunt.

You whined and nodded your head at him “Y-yes… Yes, I am, Master” you winced, as he deliberately decided to add another finger into you. He was loving every second of it, your moans music to his ears. He had even declined Nakime’s avances earlier. Something he was not used to, actually, and he had not even called Daki for the usual morning quickie in his office. Nothing, all because he wanted to focus on you. Only on you.

“Good. That’s good, love, because I’ll cum into you” he rasped, removing his fingers from your core and lining his shaft at your entrance. You held your breath, cheeks heating up even more at his words, as you boldly wrapped your legs around him.

He was still fully clothed and you were so lost into the depths of your mind that you had not realised it until now. Why was he fucking you like that? Was it his kink?

And with a quick, painful thrust he entered you. You let out a throaty moan, the pain, mixed with an unfamiliar pressure into your neather regions made your arch your back and grip the red bedsheets into your fists so tightly you thought they were going to rip into shreds.

Muzan grunted, his hand caressing your cheek lovingly to capture the tear you had shedded, before planting a kiss over your plumped lips. You relaxed, he stayed still for a few minutes, before he pulled out and thrusted back in gently. You moaned into his mouth, your hand, cupping his smooth cheek as you whispered a weak “Please, don’t stop” against his lips.

Muzan bit your lip softly, tugging at it to assert his authority on you “Hush, baby. Moan for me until I fill you up to the brim”.

You kissed him again, Muzan returning it as he started to pick up a faster pace. He thrusted into you, his mouth latching onto your collabone as he left a trail of wet kisses down it. You were his. You were going to fall for him, no matter how long it would have taken.

You were his doll, his precious baby, his goddess.

“A–Ah, Muzan… I-I think I’m close… It’s good, it’s so good” you breathed out then, as his hand grasped your throat and gave it a tight squeeze. You moaned, eyes rolling at the back of your skull, as your spongy walls clamped down his cock.

He growled, his hips rutting into you as he neared his climax and, just a few moments before he spurted his seed into you, you orgasmed around him. Muzan lowly moaned, burying his face onto the crook of your sweaty neck as he finished inside you. He stayed sheathed into you for a few minutes, before pulling out of your aching core and rolling over his back.

You could not believe what had just happened. You could not believe you had just slept with the next President, you could not believe he had come into you.

“You can sleep here, if you want” he casually said then, snapping you out of your stream of consciousness. He was not laying next to you anymore, he was on his feet and walking towards the private bathroom of his bedroom, undressing and leaving a trail of clothes behind him.

Well, what a first day it had been.

[sleepy-grav3]

Glitching issue

So I was getting distracted again. I heard Masochism Tango and Stalker's Tango, wanted a yandere playlist with intense ballroom songs, that types of thing.

And then I thought of another story idea for my current hyperfixation: DCxDP

One of my favorite ships in that fandom is Dead Tired/Brain Dead, cause I love them... so much...

Anyway-

With the context of the yandere ballroom playlist, you should know where I'm going. And I read a few fics/prompts/whatever else you'd call them where it portrays a normally pretty toxic relationship but they're actually in a really healthy relationship.

There was one about mutual stalking, another with kidnapping shenanigans, one that mentioned attempted deprogramming- you get it. (don't ask me for them, I don't know what they're called and there's too much to sift through to find them, very sorry, do feel free to reblog/comment the authors of them or ones that hold some relevance)

But yeah, now I'm making a fic with a playlist as storyline inspiration. Idk the layout yet.

1 Long Chapter : 1 Song

or

Story Arc (probably short) : 1 Song

Always a 1:1 ratio, maybe a special 2 songs here and there? Not sure.

But so far!!! I have the usual: Masochism Tango and Stalker's Tango.

Got the Cell Block Tango ready. El Tango de Roxanne will be there too. I got some waltzes and looking into other types of rhythms like them. Tango, Waltz, thinking about Salsa and Swing, got a few others too

Looking into some less yandere themed songs since I can't solely do it on yandere themes. I want it to be drama filled but with some healthy doses of attraction, y'know?

Yeah, that whole thing is going on a headcannon and an idea.

Ghosts feel things more strongly, so some unhealthy things to humans are meh or minimum level things to ghosts. Because of this, Danny's a bit unhealthy in what he considers love (his vigilante life didn't help with that, especially with Vlad), but his human side keeps it more on the downlow

There's a different species of beings that are immortal in a way: The Undying. Life loves them or they're obsessed with Life. Tim is one of the only true Undying. They're as rare as true Halfas.

So... yeah. Love this little idea. Been working on it for a few hours now. And I need help. Song recommendations mostly, storyline ideas are welcome.

I'll be posting a playlist once I get it all sorted out, chronologically, and the outline of the story put up. The summary will be a genuine summary and not just some background info or a quick sentence like I usually do.

But I want a happy ending. No bittersweet, no hurt/barely any or no comfort, no fully angst-

I need some kind of betrayal for someone to go to jail TvT

Will it be Tim or Danny? Who fits best as a viewer for Cell Block Tango, just casually listening to people talk about killing (and that one framed murder).

Who's the one that lives off the thrill of getting hurt (I'm thinking more of the bdsm way, but also the "I'll only let you hurt me" type of way too? Doesn't have to be physical or verbal or even intentional... I'm making this sound worse-)

I got this one part for the Roxanne one

The yandere is "cheating", no idea if it's fake or a previous relationship, or whatever. still under planning for that.

And the "victim" is the one who's begging the yandere to not deceive them. Maybe they've been lied to a bunch of times, maybe they really don't want false hope, maybe they're fine with an open relationship as long as the yandere doesn't leave- idk, but the "victim" is the one who's pulling the strings during then.

I'm trying to think of who's the other person, the yandere, and the "victim". Who's who? Not sure. And how does it fit with the rest of the songs too... Ugh, I really should just do oneshots T^T But I can't at the moment, not with the ideas-

So yeah

Ideas? Song recommendations? Character ideas? Scene prompts????

Please?

Oh, and this post is named glitching because it broke my fucking computer. I don't have a mouse anymore. Luckily, it's touchscreen and the keyboard still works. Still annoying though

[kalims]

sugar

flushed — when you fluster them and how they act.

do you want a 'kiss' — not an actual kiss, the chocolate.

falling (asleep) — you fall asleep on their shoulder.

w/ malleus draconia

commissioned by paru !

flushed — when you fluster them and how they act.

typically if it was anyone else, they'd have a really hard time to gauge out a reaction from malleus when the most they'll get is probably a barely evident crease, or raise in his brows.

in this case tis our very lovely mc who malleus is very much already on the ground from how fast he fell. you could do just about anything, give him a rock or something, and he’ll thank you eternally and keep it in a room above the most eccentric gifts he's ever gotten.

(god forbid if sebek ever enters, and sees some random rock on a pedestal meanwhile his gifts for the master is just.. there on some table like malleus didn't even think twice to leave it there then worship that rock!)

^ well thankfully, out of respect. sebek believes that someone like him simply is not privileged enough to enter the room of his esteemed master.

anything remotely affectionate from you would definitely send malleus to cloud nine for the whole day, he's practically emitting comical hearts every second you're together. they're trailing after him as he's following you around.

so you have a variety of choices! a heartfelt compliment, a hug, maybe even a kiss. whatever you choose will only feed on the overflowing glass that's called; 'malleus' love for mc'. trust me if you think he's like 67% in love with you, you're WRONG.

it's actually 101% and it's still increasing I swear 😭 

well the glass I was talking about is probably overflowing right now, and it's also probably going to start drowning everyone.

as in… everyone's just stuck to witness malleus' insanely endearing reactions to your shenanigans. should they be scared that malleus would probably do it in a heartbeat if you asked to take over the world??

yeah they should tbh.

in this case, I believe a close hug then a whisper in his ears would really make that arrow hit straight to his heart. you can't just whisper 'doritos' though! /j but you shall instead proclaim your love for him instead with a single 'I love you'.

it's funny to see his face completely freeze. you can practically hear his brain absolutely blowing up. there's a wobbly grin stretching across his face, the tip of his ears turn a shade of pink.

he looks… shy, but oddly pleased.

hellour congratulations malleus will not stop till you're both bound for life 💀 trust me he won't take anyone else if it isn't you anymore. he loves you THAT much.

malleus is not aware of the feeling blooming in his chest, it's foreign. he could even describe it as addictive. he's clueless really, but what he's sure of is that he wonders if you'd feel that too if he did the same to you.

oh well.. you've exposed him to such a euphoric feeling. it's only natural for him to return the favor. 

so honestly just expect him to be the rizzlord for the rest of your existence, he's rizzing you up every chance he can get. and the fact that most of it is just him not trying at all, and just being himself.

which is also funny cause when he does try to 'charm' you it ends up in fail.

like who let him bring you the 'rewards of his hunt' as a courting offering.

and when he tries to recite a letter he wrote for you, it's very endearing, and flattering but he's been talking for quite a long time now and you're concerned.

do you want a 'kiss' — not an actual kiss, the chocolate.

*malleus holding a big ass bowl* yes pls

^ but that's if he knows it's chocolate, and still wants the legit kiss. in a way that's the amount he'd want if it was the real deal.

not that he does know! cause malleus isn't exactly educated in the chocolate culture. as horrifying as it sounds, i doubt he snacks on chocolate in his free time.

I guess he didn't have much time to be a child :(.

he's tasted it before though! but knowing specific brands doesn't really cross his mind. for malleus chocolate is just chocolate. 

so he definitely doesn't know that there's a brand of chocolate called kisses.

so when you ask him if he wants a kiss he's like: yes. IMMEDIATELY. 

ok maybe not immediately but he gives you this certain look, and when he registers your silence at his face he realizes that you're being serious. 

malleus rn: well I mean ur offering so 

WHEN DID HE EVEN FINISH EATING A MINT CANDY.

jokes aside it's almost sad to think how he'll react when it's in fact, not a kiss.

when you pull out some kind of thing wrapped around in some kind of foil and place it inside malleus' palm he's just confused. where are his kisses?? why are you giving him this thing??

malleus spots the 'kisses' label on it and blanks.

oh.. so that's what you meant.

okay he's happy to receive anything from you but that's foul play!

but he really likes you so he won't comment on it 😞 you didn't even elaborate so it's partially his fault for jumping into conclusions.

no one can explain, not even you when there's a visible aura radiating off malleus. something gloomy, and he won't tell you even if you point out that you've noticed him constantly glancing at your face.

well your lips but you also don't know that.

falling (asleep) — you fall asleep on their shoulder.

would refuse to move at all.

first of all, he's honored that you trust him this much to lower your guard, and fall asleep on him. malleus is aware, sorta. he doesn't stop talking but instead slows down his words.

he doesn't want to wake you up, does he?

so he just settles on rambling in hopes that even in your dreams, his voice would reach you. you'd dream of him day, and night.

but when he's done malleus makes very little movement, hyper aware that you've fallen asleep on him. so when he finally assumes a position most comfortable for you, (plus one where he wouldn't crane his neck too much to peer at you) and he just stares.

he's done this plenty of times when you were awake so he doesn't know why he's doing it now. maybe it's because he sees you awake every time, and when you were, he could see the slightest bit of exhaustion present in your eyes.

this way he can be at peace knowing you are.

he recalls your certain features, he'd love to just gaze into your eyes right now and see himself in it but the fact that he can feel all your weight on him is better than anything he's ever felt before. 

cold, rainy days in nrc are just a blessing from grace.

but you now just discover that rain here is a lot stronger than your local pour back at home. to make everything worse, you had no idea it was gonna rain this hard, and if you did you wouldn't have taken the time to visit the city on a sunday.

now you're stuck waiting under a cover outside a shop. your patience honestly starting to run thin. from your legs sincerely, you're immensely thankful for the random bench under it cause you're sure they would have been quaking from the amount of time you spent waiting.

but you do like the weather, cold weather is rare to see when the sunny days reign over many.

you should have brought a jacket or something.

"child of man?"

you blink when malleus tilts his head at you, a thin smile playing upon his lips. his shoulders seem to ease up at the sight of you. your eyes fly above him, weirdly enough it's like there's some invisible force protecting malleus from the weather so he's completely dry.

albeit weakly, you still make an effort to give him a half hearted wave. 

of which he notes.

malleus makes his way over to you, and your beloved bench you had started acquainting yourself with. "may I?" he gestures beside you, and you take that as an initiative to move over.

he takes a seat next to you right after.

"how are you faring?" his eyes crinkle, he stares deeply into you. 

you chuckle. "well I'm stuck here for a while I guess. I already miss my bed,"

the man beside you raises his brow before lightly raising his shoulder, leaning towards you a little for emphasis but you're sure that's just another excuse to take up more of your space.

you get what he's implying in a second. "oh no, no," you shake your head. that would be… embarrassing. 

but your yawn betrays you, and malleus easily coaxes you into using his shoulder. with or without your will, you can't even remember what happened until you blearily open your eyes, and realize the rain has passed by.

when you wake up you feel like you've had the best sleep in your life. but you're sure you would have frozen to death by now.

your hands feel the fabric between your fingers, previously taken over your shoulders. ah.

… as well as a pair of eyes staining into your existence.

wc. 1.5k

[lovelykil]

I don’t know if you still do killua stuff so feel free to ignore this but killua with a really like loyal s/o hcs? Like as in doesn’t let anyone get too close other than him and maybe Gon!! Have a nice day and take care 🔥💕

headcanons─

: ➛ killua

hc; very loyal s/o

note; hey chat guess who's back 😜, yall miss me or what 😈

he won't admit it but he definitely loves this about you, he doesn't have to worry about anyone coming too close to you—

you'll end up rocking they shit if they DID get close to you anyway.

he's obviously very loyal to you, he walks away from any girl who isn't you or avoids conversing with anyone beside you, so when he realizes he's scored and found someone who is just as loyal as him he's RELIEVED

cause lordd knows this boy has horrible jealousy issues.

you always stay loyal to him even when he's not around, always keeping your distance from guys or girls and keeping talking to a minimum before hurrying off somewhere probably to text him about the interaction you just had with someone.

one time actually,, you had the misfortune of getting into a conversation with a random guy as you were trying to find your boyfriend those chocolates he adores.

the guy opened his mouth first which was innocent in the beginning.. you thought he was just asking where the item he desired was but eventually you saw right through the teen. His flirtatious comments and touchy hands made your eyes twitch.

can't you just get some damn chocolate without a thirsty idiot in your ear?

you let out a deep, and annoyed sigh which caught the guy's attention, bringing him to a halt to look at you. You glared at him while he looked at you, "I have a boyfriend." You stated.

the guy stared at you then looked around the store, "I don't see him around. You're practically single now." He cooes, his figure growing terribly too close to your own. You take a step back as your face scrunches up in disgust.

was he for real?

you sigh again this time pulling out your phone to look up something, the idiot in front of you watches in curiosity and then smirks momentarily.

"oh? Giving me your number? Bet, let me get my pho—"

"you aware of the Zoldyck family?" You interrupt him and show him the various articles of the famous assassin family. The teen stops and reads your phone,

"uh, yeah sure? They are assassins right?" He asks in a puzzled manner as his eyes fix on yours. You nod briefly, taking back your phone. "famous ones at that." You go on.

his eyes move around, confused as to why would that even be relevant to getting your phone number. "and why does that matter?"

"I'm dating one, Killua Zoldyck." You glance over at him. His eyes grew wide, suddenly taking a step back away from you in shock.

you smile at this and snicker, "you talk to me again and I'll call him." as you shake your phone in the palm of your hand with a sweet but cold smile. Your threat was enough for him to scatter away in defeat and fear.

what an idiot. You thought as he fled.

when you finally retrieve those robots chocolates killua has loved for years, you call him to tell him about your day.

by day you just mean that one interaction you had.

"this dumbass guy from the store was flirting with me."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ"well hello to you too?"

"you wanna hear about it?"

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ"nah, I already know what you did"

"oh?"

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ"you threatened him didn't you?"

"mmmh yeah I did, told him about youu."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ"thought so, anyway are you coming back I miss you— I mean I want my chocolates..."

"yes I'm coming don't tell kurapika about this."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ"like I tell kurapika anything."

"whatever bye assholeee"

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ"bye y/n."

he's much more comfortable and calm in the relationship with you, not having to overthink as MUCH that he's not good enough or you'll leave.

the only guy you do allow and killua is pretty okay with being around is his bestfriend Gon. Killua knows he won't do anything really he trusts him and he trusts you.

so gon is safe !

other than that, you are completely smitten with the silverette you don't ever think of any other guy besides him.

I mean why would you?

[cowgurrrl]

Strangers

Pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader (cowgirl!reader???)

Author’s note: goddammit is this gonna be a thing

Summary: Javi struggles to assimilate back into civilian life in Texas until an old friend returns [1.5k]

Warnings: Texas Javi my beloved, language, addictive tendencies, PTSD symptoms, Javi + Steve 4eva, reader has a brother, southernisms, pining, yeah there’s probably gonna be a part two 🙄

Javi really did try his best to leave Colombia and the ghosts that pricked at his memory every time he turned a familiar corner. He wanted to do better. He felt he had to. Too many people died for him to just throw away his chance at life, but the days were long and hot, and he was so fucking tired. The nicotine patches stopped working, and the bottle suddenly wasn't enough to convince himself he was doing what he was sent to do. That he was doing the right thing. That he was a good person. 

He expected the feeling to leave him once he left the imaginary borders of Colombia and returned to the northern valley. He thought working with his dad and getting his feet back under him after years of being pushed and pulled at Reagan's whim would feel better than shaking down teenagers for narco information. Of course, it didn't disappear in the cacti and hazy horizons of Loredo or the arms of his father. It's only been a couple of hours, Peña, he thought. Give it some time. Who knows? Blistering Texas sunsets might be good for burning the blood off his hands. 

Except everybody in his small town knew of his exploits in Latin America. They knew his name was plastered to boxes full of evidence against the cartel and then some. They knew Chucho's boy was some kind of fucked up veteran or hero or whatever they wanted to call him. He avoided going into town more than necessary when he first got home because of how often he got stopped. It didn't matter if he was going to the hardware store, HEB, or the mechanic. Somebody ended up talking to him about Escobar or Cali. He couldn't escape his past even thousands of miles away from it. The only good thing about his newfound fame was the free drinks people pushed his way in the shit hole bar just on the outskirts of town. 

He tells himself to slow down, what with the early mornings and long days he's working, but it'd be a dick move to turn down free drinks, right? Sometimes, Javi loses hours in the bar, betting money on pool, flirting with women passing through town, and telling war stories of the jungle and sicarios and whatever else comes spilling out of his loose lips. He tells himself he's coping the best way he knows how when he comes down for breakfast looking and feeling like shit, his hair practically wet from lingering cigarette smoke, but he knows better. 

His dad deals with Javi's vices the same way they dealt with his mother's death: inefficiently and without making a sound. The most Chucho does is shake his head and sigh when Javi comes stumbling in at some ungodly hour. What more could he do? Javi barely told his dad where he was in the world. How was he supposed to tell him what he'd done? What he saw? What he allowed? No, his dad can never know. It'll kill him. It'll kill Javi to retell. 

Sometimes, Javi will call Steve and ask about Connie and the kids, and they'll act like they're old school buddies and not tethered together through tragedy and white powder. Steve will ask him about his sleep, and Javi will give some bullshit answer which makes Steve laugh. "Yeah, me too," he says one time. "Woke the baby up the other night 'cause I was talkin' again. Don't even know what about. Isn't that fun?" Javi doesn't give much away. He never does, but sometimes, it's just nice to know he's not alone in his struggle to get back to normal. 

Javi is back in town for a full forty days before he finally stumbles across you. At first, he doesn't remember you or your first name. Your last name, however, rattles around his skull until he finally gets the courage to ask if he knows you as he stands in line at the store. "You look familiar." He says, making you laugh. 

"I'd hope so. You were practically livin' in my house in high school." You say, throwing him back to his high school baseball days, spending time either in the field or on the ranch with your older brother. You were a little bit younger than him— the daughter of a weathered cattle rancher— and only caught his attention when you were in the way or being an obnoxious teenager. Man, did you grow up pretty, he thinks. Suddenly, he's hyperaware of his sweaty hair, rumpled shirt, and god-awful farmer's tan. 

"Last I heard, you'd moved out of town," Javi says, crossing his arms over his chest and eyeing you carefully. The freckles dotting your face from all your time in the sun should be considered lethal, especially when you smile. 

"Last I heard, you were engaged." Just as you did then, you don't hold your punches. The jab doesn't hurt, but it does make him laugh, an embarrassed blush crawling up his neck.

"Alright, you got me there," he says. "How's your brother?"

"Good. Married Suzanna a few years ago, and now they've got some babies running around." 

"They live around here?"

"Dallas," you say. "Dillon thinks he's too good for us and decided to be a real estate agent out there instead."

"Sounds riveting," Javi says and you laugh. The line gets shorter and shorter as you talk, but he can't focus on anything but you. "And you? What's a pretty girl like you still doing in this shit hole?" Something behind your eyes flickers at the comment and you take a deep breath, suddenly all too aware of how hot it is today.

"Somebody's gotta get Daddy off the horse every once in a while."

"And what? Your mama can't do that for you?"

"She knows better than to keep tryin'. I'm just as stubborn as he is, so one of us'll win or give up before the other." 

"Well, my money's on you." He says easily. You stare at each other for a little bit longer than necessary before the clerk calls you by name to get your attention. Your items are scanned, bagged, and paid for all in the span of a few seconds. You have no reason to linger in the checkout aisle, but you do, rocking on your boots' heels just a little. 

"Don't be a stranger, Peña." You say, looking him over as if you're seeing him for the first time. 

"I don't think this town's big enough for that." He says, and you chuckle.

"No, I don't think so either," you say. "Tell your dad I said hi." With all your Southern hospitality, you turn and leave. Javi watches you go until the clerk calls his name and breaks him out of it. Well, that and the sound of something crashing to the floor makes him reach for a gun he doesn't carry anymore. His shoulders brace for an explosion, and he can't catch his breath. He stares at the box and the broken jars in it as a pissed-off employee storms off to find a broom. He scoffs. 

Javi has dealt with some of the most dangerous people in the world, and jams are what spike his adrenaline. 

He tries to shrug it off and pay the cashier, but his ears are still ringing, and his heart is still racing when he climbs back into his truck. Fucking jam. He tries to forget about it as he drives home. He wants to forget about it. He wants to think of anything else. 

If that happens to be your smile, the way your laugh fills the air, or the inconspicuous way you looked at him when he complimented you, it's just a coincidence. 

When he gets home, he's craving a drink or a cigarette or something more physical to get his mind off of what happened. His shoulders slump with the weight of memory and Chucho sees. He always sees. He just doesn't know the right way to fix it. 

"Y'know, uh… your friend you used to play baseball with?" He asks, seemingly out of nowhere, as Javi puts away the groceries. He furrows his brows and gives his dad a confused look.

"I had lots of friends I played baseball with."

"He was datin' that girl you went to Homecoming with when you were a freshman?" Of all the things his dad remembers, of course, it's that. Javi resists the urge to roll his eyes and grinds his teeth instead.

"Suzanna?" He asks and Chucho snaps his fingers in a way that tells him that was the right answer. "His name was Dillion. What about him?" 

"Well, his dad heard you're back in town and invited us over for a barbecue," he says nonchalantly and Javi scoffs. "I'm not sure how he didn't know, but you know that old fucker's always out doin' something. Somebody probably told him something or the other. Anyway, you can say no. I told him you were still adjustin'."

"I'll go," Javi agrees too fast. "Might be good to… get outta the house. Wouldn't wanna be a stranger." Chucho is surprised but not displeased with Javi's answer, and they leave it as is. 

It's just reintegrating into civilian life. It's just socializing. It's just a barbecue. It's not an interrogation or a raid. It's coping. 

Apparently, coping could be really fun if he plays his cards right.

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 @ignorethisplz2004 @buckyispunk @d1lf-loverrr @vee-bees-blog @moel-jiller @anoverwhelmingdin @casssiopeia @space-zaddy-din-djarin @rainy-darling @its-me-mila @mnn11ankamaaka

[marchsfreakshow]

Heart To Heart [Kyle Spencer]

Fluff! / A lil short sorry

You decided to take a leap and go to a party with Kyle. God, it was so loud...but somehow, Kyle just being there helped you.

aaaa thank you for requesting this @vi0l3tluvsu !! I've been wanting to write some more Frat!Kyle recently, so thank u for your smart idea. 🫶🫶

[this is probably gonna sound a bit ooc cause I haven't seen Coven for a good while unfortunately :/]

No one's perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Parties were never your thing. Not really. But, having a frat boy as your boyfriend changed that. A little. Kyle would happily take an evening binge watching something like Supernatural with you in your dorm over a party.

"Okay, are you sure? Cause, we can leave right now and go to make those gingerbread cookies you've been talking about recently?" Kyle asked quietly, as the both of you stood outside the frat house. The bass pounding itself already into your heart despite not even being close to the doorway yet.

A small smile graced your face, and nodding, you took Kyle's hands. "I'm 100% sure. I want to do something that makes you happy too darling. And this party is one of them." The both of you headed inside where LEDs blinded you for a few moments. The seizure inducing flashes of colour burning into your retinas. Fuck it, you'll get used to it over the night. Kyle held you close, hand tight on the small of your back as he led you through the house to a crowded kitchen.

A drink in your hand, the other resting on Kyle's hand that had snaked around your front. He had a drink himself in his free hand. "Okay, we got drinks...where to sweetheart?"

"...Let's find a crowd to slip into." Kyle nodded once you suggested some mingling. The blonde lead you into a crowd of his frat friends, each guy seeming bigger and beefier than the last. So intimidating. However, Kyle was stuck by you. His hand was comfortably around your front as he kept you against his back, conversations waving past your ears from time to time. But you still managed to get a word in, happily talking to the frat boys about whatever show you were watching, that wasn't Supernatural.

Kyle occasionally pressed a kiss to your cheek, and smiled against your skin. Seeing you get on with others, and in general have fun made him happy. "You having fun then?" He asked with a chuckle, putting a few more kisses to your cheek.

Your reply was a quick nod as you turned your head slightly. "Definitely."

The evening continued on with Kyle never leaving your side. Music never stopped in your ears, and your eyes did get used to the occasional flashing LEDs. Eventually. Your drink had been discarded, mainly because use you were finished, and happily wrapped your arms around Kyle's shoulders. He kept an arm firmly around your back, determined to never let you out of your sight. His eyes never left you as he watched you dance. A small smile still playing on your lips that never left.

God. You were the prettiest person he'd ever seen. No one could take that from him.

"You're truly... beautiful.." Kyle whispered, taking a moment to find the right word.

While you were used to his compliments, it didn't stop your cheeks feeling warm under the lights and the smile on your face widening a little. Of course, you didn't fully accept the compliment. He was too pretty in his own right. "Says you, pretty boy."

"Says me?" He gasped slightly, immediately grinning.

"Yeah, says you!"

Kyle's next response was just a kiss. Bringing you flush against him as your hand found his hair, playing with some strands when the kiss continued. "You're so sweet." He complimented quietly, gazing into your eyes like the lovesick golden retriever he was.

"nuh uh.."

"...yuh huh!" He nodded eagerly, chuckling as he retorted your denial.

The both of you ended up in a small fit of giggles in the corner of the living room, happily ignoring the others at the party. Too perfect. You stayed in that corner for the rest of the night, watching everyone else party contentedly. It was perfect. "I'm glad you convinced me to come."

Kyle looked over to you, his arm now around your shoulders. "Yeah? Aw, I'm glad. Can I convince you to come to another then soon?"

"...Totally."

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tags: @babygorewhore / @taintandviolent / @oceanblvd111 / @nahoyasboyfriend / @slutforgarlogan / @marchs-hummingbird @american-horror-whore /. @evanpeterspeter / @feefymo / @fear-is-truth / @lacucarachapisser / @marchsfreak / @saintlucretia / @t8-ak47 / @xrag-dollx / @jazzy-reads