#everyone look away bc this one is way too self-indulgent

[pathologicalreid]

gemini | S.R.

two emotionally wrought people collide at a wedding, and a sexual escapade ensues.

part two

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: softdom!spencer, use of the term "good girl" (i couldn't help myself), unprotected sex, reader on bc, alcohol, spoilers for 14x15 truth or dare, lowkey idiots in love, fucking against a wall?, fingering, heavy petting, r has an oral fixation, r is wearing a dress and makeup, explicit consent (hot), public sex, i think that's all word count: 3.42k a/n: this is a little self-indulgent and i don't care! based on literally just the first line of the song gemini by del water gap. probably not ever gonna get a part two. i've never done angsty smut (smangst?) before, so this was fun.

so, here's the setting, we met fucked up at a wedding

Swirling the drink you held in your hand, you watched your friends as they chatted. The pink liquid in the cup, concocted by Penelope Garcia, was far too sweet for your taste, but you needed the liquid courage to make it through the wedding.

It wasn’t that you weren’t happy for Krystall and Dave. It was that weddings oftentimes left a bitter taste in your mouth – one so bitter that not even Penelope’s drink could offset it.

In your periphery, you saw a blur of purple in the corner, looking up to see Spencer. His hand still bandaged from his most recent brush with death, he used his free one to grip a glass of water. Raising your eyebrows, you gave him your best attempt at a smile before you greeted him, “You look good, Dr. Reid.”

He was fully donned in his favorite color, and you tried to pretend that you didn’t notice that your dress matched the purple hue of his suit. “Thanks,” he said shortly, not quite meeting your eyes.

Noting the way he was looking past you, you demurely leaned your head down, glancing over your shoulder so that you could see what he was looking at, only to see JJ. She looked gorgeous in her red dress, laughing at something her husband said before her eyes caught something.

She was staring back at Spencer, and not for the first time, you found yourself wondering what happened in that pawn shop. Bringing your eyes back up to Reid, you watched the confused look in his eyes bloom as he peeled his eyes away from JJ.

Sick of it, you spoke up, “Alright, I had dibs on being the mopey one tonight. What’s wrong?” You had wanted to brush it off as long-lasting nerves from the hostage situation, but he was acting strange.

You knew you weren’t his best friend, that was a title that JJ had been the reigning champion of since the beginning of time. Yet, you still noticed the rigidity in Spencer’s shoulders as he displayed a clear discomfort with his surroundings. You tried to think of something to say to him. How could you ask him if he wanted to get out of here without it sounding like a sexual proposition?

“JJ told me she loved me,” he said, his voice so low you weren’t even sure you had heard him correctly.

Your head snapped up, “Oh.” Swallowing thickly, you tilted your head curiously, letting loose hair tumble to the side. “Do you love her?” Likely not the right conversation for the wedding of everyone’s favorite right-person-wrong-time couple, but you were desperate for a rope to pull yourself out of your wallowing.

He took a sip of his water before setting the empty glass on the bar counter, “I did.” The admission hit you like a ton of bricks, until her continued, “but now…”

Filling in the blanks, you shrugged, “She’s married. They have kids.” Spencer was always doing the right thing, so pushing his feelings aside for the sake of JJ’s family made the most sense.

Furrowing his brows, he pondered this for a moment before speaking, “It’s not just that. I have feelings for someone else.”

“Oh,” you repeated, and somehow the thought of him being in love with an unfamiliar figure hurt more than him being in love with your mutual friend.

The both of you let the conversation lag, watching as Penelope came back up to the bar and poured more drinks. After she accused you of being boring for not wanting another drink, everyone returned to the tables. “Have you dated anyone since him?”

You choked on your newly acquired water, cupping your hand underneath your jaw in an attempt to stop water from getting on your dress. “Uh, no. I’ve kind of sworn off dating ever since,” you replied, shaking your hand out and letting water droplets fall to the floor.

Sighing, you slouched in your seat, remembering that all you’d ever be was a jaded bride. Left by your fiancé on the day of your wedding, doomed to never love again. Until you met Spencer Reid.

“For everyone?” Spencer asked, and you cursed his natural curiosity.

His question caught you off guard. Despite yourself, you shook your head, “I have like… one person who, if they asked me, I’d say yes.” Your skin started to feel warm, and you weren’t sure if it was your proximity to him or Penelope’s drink coming back with a vengeance.

Spencer stepped a little closer to you, leaning casually on the counter as if he wasn’t affecting your ability to focus. “Who’s your person?” The question was innocent enough that it made your heart ache.

“It doesn’t matter, he’s into someone else,” you told him, reaching behind your neck to pull your hair up, haphazardly twisting it. You didn’t have a hair tie, so you let the locks fall once you felt some semblance of relief.

This statement seemingly bothered Spencer because he looked into his glass, “Did he tell you that?”

Nodding, you chewed on the inside of your lip. “Yeah,” maybe not in so many words, Spencer was rarely crass enough to say he was into someone, but you understood well enough.

The conversation lagged between the two of you once again, your own private thoughts were only interrupted when the music changed. It was a slow song, one for the couples of the night to dance to.

You took a chance, “Do you want to go explore the building with me? It’s getting stuffy in here,” you said, taking one final swig of your water before jumping up from your stool.

He looked back at JJ, who was there with Will, and then forward to the girl who was asking to take him away, “Yes.”

David Rossi had spared no expense for his second wedding to his third wife, and the manor that you found yourself meandering within felt never-ending. Something about following Spencer as he led the way and told you facts about the history of the building felt so normal, and you wondered if it would hurt when the night was over. Maybe this would just end as another memory to loathe about weddings.

Trailing him into another room, you stumbled into his back. Quickly, Spencer spun back and caught you before you could fall to the ground.

Steadying yourself, your heart thrummed at the way he was touching you, tightly holding your waist so that you wouldn’t trip. Once you were no longer wobbling, Spencer reached up and gingerly lifted the fallen spaghetti strap of your dress back over your shoulder. Before you had fully thought out your actions, you leaned up on your tip toes and kissed him.

It was hesitant and gentle, but once you registered that you were kissing him you soon realized that he was kissing you back. What started out as a small peck on the lips quickly morphed into full, open-mouthed kisses.

You thought Spencer might eat you alive, and for a moment, you thought you might let him.

Without separating your lips, he herded you over to the wall, pinning your hips to the wall as you felt heat grow between your legs.

Pulling at your bottom lip with his teeth, Spencer pulled away ever so slightly, your faces just inches apart. “Is this okay?” He asked you, his eyes flickering down to your lips like he was holding himself back from kissing you again.

There was fear. A fear that if you moved forward tonight, nothing would ever be the same, but you took a chance  and nodded quickly, “Yes.”

Your answer acted as a release as Spencer dropped his head back down and the two of you reattached your lips. Despite your attempts to ignore it, you felt his hardened length pressing into you through several layers of clothes.

Twisting your head away, you gasped as Spencer took the opportunity to place his lips on your neck, gently suckling on the tender skin as you tried to catch your breath. “Are you sure about this?” You breathed, running your hands underneath his suit jacket, wanting nothing more than to push it off of him.

“Yes,” he answered, giving you the same consent that you had already given him, and it was enough for you to reach for his belt buckle. No matter how badly you wanted to see him entirely bare in front of you, this just wasn’t the place for it.

Gently, you slid your hand down his front, savoring the way his breath hitched against your neck as your fingertips precariously lifted the waistband of his boxers. He gently nipped at your earlobe as you wrapped your hand around the base of his cock.

You let your head fall backward, allowing him better access to your neck as you moved your hand. Moving your hand up so that you could swipe your thumb over the tip.

You dragged your other hand down, pulling his boxers down so that you could get a good look at what you were working with, and biting your lip at the sight of it. Slowly, you started to pump his impressive length, noting how his breathing patterns changed with your movements.

Dragging a knuckle up the underside of him, he dropped his head to your shoulder as you collected his pre-cum on your index finger on your way up, bringing your hand up to your mouth and licking the droplet off, peering up at him.

“You’re so good at that, baby,” he told you, sighing as he reached up and placed his hand on the side of your neck, skimming his thumb over your jawline as his free hand started to make its way up your dress, pausing when he only met bare skin. “No underwear?” He questioned, furrowing his brow at you as you bit your lip, trying to refrain from pressing into his hand.

Whimpering almost indiscriminately, you shook your head, “Couldn’t, panty lines would show under the dress.”

Spencer hummed in recognition, moving his hand up to cup your sex so that you could feel your own wetness on his hand. A pathetic whine escaped your throat as your walls clenched with need, still stopping yourself from grinding on his hand. “What do you need?” He asked, a teasing lilt in his voice, “Come on, you can tell me.”

“You, please,” you answered, your voice dangerously bordering on pleading. “Your hands, anything,” you squeaked out, breathing heavily as you awaited his next move.

Gently, he slipped a finger inside your wet hole, causing you to release a satisfied sigh. “You’re so wet,” he whispered in your ear as you tilted your head back and pressed your lips to his.

As his hand picked up in pace, so did your breathing. With each movement of his hand, you struggled to keep your volume at a respectable level, small whimpers continued escaping you even as you bit down on the inside of your lip. “Spence,” you whined, moaning aloud as he slipped a second finger into you, “Oh, god.”

The silence of the room around you only exacerbated the wet sounds that were emanating from your sex, and if it didn’t feel so good, you might’ve been embarrassed. In fact, as you felt a familiar coil winding in your abdomen, you found that you didn’t have the capacity to feel anything other than pleasure.

Crying out, you nodded as Spencer continued to thrust his fingers in and out of you, “Fuck,” you said, caring less about your volume levels. Even less so when he responded by pressing the heel of his hand against your clit, the pressure proving to be enough to send you over the edge.

“It’s okay,” Spencer whispered in your ear, “Let it go for me, baby.” His words continued as you felt your walls spasming around his fingers, his ministrations had slowed, but he worked you through your orgasm before withdrawing his fingers and lifting them up to your mouth.

Accepting the invitation, you leaned forward and sucked the sweet juices off of his hand, slipping your tongue between his two fingers as you looked up at him. You half expected him to be watching you with lust-blown eyes, but he was watching you just as attentively as he had when you started this escapade.

He retrieved his fingers from your mouth with a satisfying pop and reached down to ruche the fabric of your dress up around your waist. “Wait,” he said suddenly, gripping the silky cloth, “I don’t have a condom.”

Your eyes widened and you shook your head, “I don’t mind.” Still breathing heavy from your previous orgasm, you shook your head again, “I mean. I’m on birth control – and I’m good at it. I mean I keep up with it.” Now babbling, you hoped he’d say something. “I’m clean. I trust you.”

Nodding in understanding, he placed a hand on the side of your neck and looked at you intently. “I’m not going to do anything until you catch your breath,” he told you, taking up an authoritative tone.

Blinking rapidly, you evened out your breathing as he ran his hand up and down your torso, “I’m sorry,” you whispered, taking another deep breath as you looked up at him.

Spencer shook his head, “Don’t be sorry.” He leaned his head down, pressing soft kisses down the side of your neck as you finally pushed his jacket off of his shoulders. “You’re so pretty,” he murmured, leaning down to grip the backs of your thighs.

“It’s okay if you can’t lift me,” you rambled quickly, getting his attention as you aired your concern.

He raised his eyebrows expectantly, pressing his hips into yours and lifting your feet off of the ground. The leverage that he had, along with the support of the wall behind him, allowed him to get both of your feet off of the ground. You would’ve spent more time being impressed by this feat if you weren’t so distracted by his painfully hard cock that had now slipped between your folds.

Leaning down, you desperately kissed his lips, wanting him to give you those open-mouthed kisses that you had started out with. Instead, you cried out when, without warning, his full length slipped into you.

Placing gentle kisses on your collarbone, Spencer murmured, “Are you okay?” He whispered, seeming like he was using all of his self-control to just stay still.

You nodded, feeling his cock throbbing so deep in you that you were almost afraid you’d come from just that pressure alone. “Been a while,” you murmured, taking a deep, shaky breath.

He hummed in understanding, “I’ve got you, take your time.”

His words filled your stomach with butterflies, and it wasn’t just because he was fully sheathed in you. “Spence,” you whimpered, “Move.”

On your cue, Spencer gave a tentative thrust, permitting your resulting moan to mix with his grunt. “Fuck, baby,” he said, continuing to thrust in and out of your cunt, filling the room with the crude squelching of your actions. “I’m not going to last long,” he informed you.

Throwing your head back in ecstasy, you moaned helplessly when Spencer dropped one of your legs to the ground, hooking his arm underneath your other knee, providing a new, deeper angle. You swore as the sensations started to feel overwhelming.

The new angle gave him more control over his movements, enabling him to use his free hand to pull at your breast through the fabric of your dress. As you tugged gently at his hair, you tilted your head back, “Spence, I- shit,” you cursed, recognizing the tell-tale signs of your second orgasm approaching.

If it weren’t for his words of encouragement, you would’ve been embarrassed by coming too quickly, and if anything, the words only spurred you closer to the finish line. “Come for me,” he said, thrusting harder into you as he tried to reach the same point. “Let me know how good I make you feel,” he said, continuing his thrusts until his hips stuttered.

“Coming,” you whimpered, dropping your head forward onto his shoulder as you felt your walls tightening around his hard length. Crying out as he continued to pound into you, you buried your face into his neck and nipped at the skin to muffle your sounds.

Now he was solely working toward his own orgasm, having given you two of your own. “You’re such a good girl,” he panted.

Suckling gently at the skin on his neck – not hard enough to leave a mark, you littered kisses on his sensitive skin. “Come in me, baby,” you murmured, trying to spur him on.

Your success was apparent as his movements faltered and his cock started throbbing, feeling the pulses of his cum as it filled you, your eyes rolled back at the feeling while Spencer slowed to a halt, waiting for a beat before he pulled out of you entirely.

Shuddering at the emptiness you now felt, you leaned against the wall once both of your feet were on the ground. As your legs trembled, you watched as Spencer crouched to fish something out of his jacket, leaving you with your mixture of fluids running down your legs.

As he grabbed the handkerchief from his breast pocket, you gasped slightly as you realized his intentions. “Spence, you’ll ruin it,” you insisted.

“Would you rather go back out there with my cum dripping down your thighs?” He asked, knelt in front of you with his brows raised in mock innocence.

Swallowing thickly, you shook your head, “Jesus.”

He chuckled, using the handkerchief to wipe up the mess the two of you had made on your legs before carelessly tossing it into a nearby trashcan. Noting the way your legs were still shaking, he lifted your chin ever so slightly, “Are you alright?”

Nodding, you offered him a tired, but genuine smile. “I’m great,” you told him, wiping underneath your eyes where you were sure there was a mess of mascara.

Taking your hand in his, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, Spencer led to toward the French doors that led to the balcony, taking you out into the fresh air.

As you leaned up against the railing, Spencer shook out his jacket and draped it over your shoulders, doing his best to keep you comfortable. “Hey,” you whispered, “I really am fine. Are you? How’s your hand?” In all of the hormones, you had forgotten about his injury.

Spencer nodded, looking over the property that Rossi had rented. “I’m good, Y/N. I feel good.” You wished he’d call you baby again, but maybe that was too much to ask for. His eyebrows furrowed.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked him, recognizing the look from years of working together.

He hummed, reaching up and sweeping a strand of hair off of your forehead. “That guy? The one who told you he’s into someone else? I can confidently say he’s an idiot.”

Flushing, you smiled to yourself at the fact that Spencer was calling himself an idiot, especially when he was anything but. Shrugging, you waved him off anyway, “Nobody’s perfect, Spence.”

“No, I suppose not, but even so…” he told you, allowing his voice to trail off like he wasn’t totally sure what he wanted to say to you. “If he can’t see what’s right in front of him, then maybe you need to turn your attention elsewhere.”

Sighing, you leaned your chin in your hand, “Thanks, but I don’t know. Maybe there is better out there, and I’m just not worth it.” No, after tonight, you’d likely never get over him. It might’ve started as a workplace crush, but you felt in your heart that it was now something deeper.

Spencer shook his head, “Now, that’s where we disagree.”

“Spencer, I can’t-“ Your voice is cut off when you hear someone calling your name from inside the building, smoothing out the front of your dress one more time, you step back into the room, coming face to face with JJ.

She smiles in recognition of you, but the grin immediately fades from her face when Spencer walks out behind you, “Hey, we’ve been looking for you guys,” she said flatly. “They’re about to cut the cake.”

Nodding, you took another quick look at Spencer before following the blonde out of the room, leaving your secret in the room behind you.

part two

[taintedcigs]

— late night blues

pairing: roommate bsf!eddie munson x f!reader

summary: you can’t seem to sleep, so eddie offers to drive you around, but you have something else in mind that can make you relax and help you fall asleep faster; his fingers. (wc: 3.1k+)

author's note: not proofread. entirely self-indulgent. and normally i would gaf about interactions but i literally dont rn. i needed this <3 and for all my insomniacs out there... i appreciate u and i am u. hope this is like a warm/horny hug to all of u as much as it is to me. bc i need it desperately. the ending is kinda rushed i am so v sorry. pleaseeee reblog to support me. ty!! mwah.

Hogging the blanket you sank deeper into the couch, the light illuminating from the TV screen enough to have you squinting, but never enough to lull you into sleep.

You huff, impatiently, trying to shut off the voices in your head, thoughts swirling around everywhere and anywhere, making it impossible to let you embrace the sweet sleep you so desperately need.

"Why are you awake?" A low groan of Eddie's voice almost startles you, slight gasp leaving your lips, making you sit up straight with a deep breath.

"Couldn't sleep," you shrugged, "didn't wanna wake you."

"Should've," he grumbles, stomping on his way next to you, "y'know I can't sleep knowing you're awake, right?" A lazy smile is placed on his lips when he slouches right next to you.

The couch sinks with the impact and so does your stomach, the implications of his words not going unnoticed, the two of you have always been close, too fucking close to being considered as just friends.

Yet, none of you ever made any effort.

And you were growing tired of it, because, shit, did you like him. And a part of you, as well as everyone else in the gang kept teasing you about, told you he liked you too. Just waiting to be pushed.

"Wanna smoke?" He asked with a hum, "might help you sleep better." The brunette placed a lazy kiss on your forehead, another act the two of you always did, affectionate, too affectionate to be just friends, yet none of you ever dwelled on it, despite it leaving your entire body on fire in its wake, and Eddie's stomach churn with delight as you always smiled up at him. Sweet, almost peaceful, making you nod quietly, looking so fatigued that his chest ached for you.

"Was t'tired... couldn't roll one." You point toward the mess on the coffee table, grinder open with strains stuck in it, crumpled-up rolling papers, and a bunch of filters sprawled everywhere.

"How about we take a drive, princess?" He asks with a slight tilt of his head, the pad of his thumb slowly circling your face, tender and making you melt into him.

You shake your head quickly, not wanting to bother him in any way. "Eds, it's too late, I don't want you to-"

But he's quick to scoff. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Eddie, I mean it, we can just smoke this here and-" He tuts you quickly, already getting up, his Garfield sweatpants fully in view, making you giggle.

He takes your hand in his, dragging you while you huff and puff. "Grab a jacket or one of my hoodies, and let's fuckin' roll, honey."

Once you throw over one of his oversized hoodies, he almost carries you to the car, not wanting you to lose that sleepy state, knowing that it'd be hard for you to get it back.

You buckle your seatbelt, just watching him in his groove, head falling into the headrest as you admire him rolling a joint so quickly that it makes your head spin. "How the fuck can you do that?" You groan, "'s not fair." A pout overtakes your lips, causing him to grin. He wants to kiss it away, yet all he does is tuck the strands of your hair that are covering your features, turning your lips into a mellow smile, matching his.

"Well it helps if you were a dealer in high school." He rambles, a hearty giggle escaping from your lips, "I'll teach you some time too, honey, promise." You nod in acceptance, and another kiss is planted on your forehead, one you happily accept, let his warmth overtake your skin, eyes glazy and lidded as you look up at him, sleep deprivation so apparent in your face that it tugs at Eddie's heartstrings, seeing you this miserable. And not being able to do anything about it. Yet.

Quickly retrieving the lighter from his back pocket, he places the rollie on his lips, letting the igniting flame heat it quickly, sizzling sound as he inhales a small huff before passing it onto you calming you further.

You suck on it with a hum, watching the way Eddie quickly turns on the ignition, windows rolled down, the same relaxing tape playing over and over again, volume dimmed, Good Feeling by Violet Femmes serves as a background drop, one of your favorite songs, and of course, Eddie knows it.

The velvety dark sky steals your attention as you once again suck on the fragrant joint gently cradled between your fingers. Letting it engulf and numb you, for your bloodshot eyes to have a reason other than being restless.

A gentle breeze whispers through the cranked windows, rustling your hair in front of your face, making you giggle lightly. Three puffs, and you are already feeling giddy, "not too strong is it?" he asks, glancing at you with the biggest grin on his face, amber hues watching you intently.

"Nuh-uh," you hum, and his hand tenderly droops down to your thighs, giving you three gentle squeezes as a form of comfort. At least, he intends it to be for comfort.

But all you can think about is how thick and warm his fingertips are, cladded rings bringing a coldness that makes you hiss, tummy doing a flip as your hazy mind craves more.

It is the last piece of the puzzle you need to finally fall into that deep slumber, Eddie making you cum on his long fingers, curling inside of you, rings slicked with your juices, it's all you can think about.

You whine at your thoughts, throat growing dry at them, not knowing if it is cotton mouth or how stunning Eddie looks while focused on the road.

The perfect side profile that you can't help but admire; chiseled jaw with the slightest stubble that you'd do anything to have it rubbing against your clit right about now, Adam's apple bobbing slightly the more he gulped, lips plushy and so soft that you wanted nothing more than to bite into them, have them suckling your neck.

Fuck, this could be it, couldn't it?

You were already a bit dizzy, giving you enough courage to ask him to, and if he rejected you, you could always just turn it into a joke, couldn't you?

You rasp a desperate breath when his hands squeeze your thigh again, prominent veins making you mewl. His head cocks towards you in worry at the sound, "you okay?"

You barely register his words, gaze too focused on the tempting hold he has on you, "hmm?"

He quirks a brow, a smirk playing on his lips when he realizes how hazed you are, "are you hungry or something, sweetheart?"

Yeah, you were. Hungry for him.

You shake your head slightly. "You sure?" He asks, more attentive, and you can feel your wetness pool around your thighs, slicking you.

"Mhmm," you reply, head turning to meet his gaze, and when he slightly tilts his head, his shaggy bangs fall onto his forehead, making you gulp physically, he looks beautiful.

"Do you want anything?"

If he was any more attentive, you were going to crawl into his lap and grind on his bulge that hugged the print of Garfield on his sweatpants, "Nope," you gulped, prying your eyes away from the outline of his huge cock forcefully.

"Need anything?"

"You." The words slipped past your lips without any interference from you, it's like your subconscious was doing all the talking you had been so afraid of.

The insomnia and weed becoming a dangerous combo.

He choked out a laugh, cheeks crimson red, spreading across his bone like crushed raspberries. "Hah, funny aren't ya?"

He avoided your gaze, yet your head snapped to meet his. "Eddie- I-I mean it."

"Sweetheart," he mumbled, a low groan awaiting in his throat.

Doe-eyed, melting, and pleading hues finally met his. "P-please, Eddie, need it so bad, need to cum, relax," you coaxed, hand placed on his, squeezing it back, causing a drawl of sigh out of him.

He can't bring himself to ease into your touch, his lips quivering at the thought of finding you soaking for him, "Honey, you're high," he tries to reason, voice squeaky pitch, he wants it, so goddamn bad, but he can't take advantage of you in any way.

You huff, disagreeingly. "Oh, c'mon, Eddie, I just took like three huffs, you know I'm not a lightweight!"

"Sweetheart, I know but it doesn't feel right-"

"But I'm begging you to!" Your pleading voice crushes him, cock stirring just at your squeaky tone, you're going to be the fucking death of him.

"Y-you have no idea how fucking stupid I feel for turning you down when all I want to-" He sighed. "I don't wanna do anything that you might regret."

You huff at that, does he not realize how desperately you want him? How badly you have wanted him all this time?

"Fuck, Eddie, just-" Fingertips graze his once you grab his rough hands, they are powerless in your hold, and you're quick to dip them down your pajamas, rubbing them against your cotton panties that are now entirely soaked with your juices. "Do you feel that?" Your voice is shaky, and low groans rumble in his chest, his focus on the road becoming dizzy.

It feels surreal, you begging for him, for his fingers, how wet your panties feel just because of him. His brain can't comprehend a thought, your name slipping past his lips like prayers.

He can't help but press his hand further against your panties, just to feel more of you, cock straining against his own cage of boxers, knuckles white from the harsh grip he has on the steering wheel.

And you can see the desperation in his eyes, spurring you more and more. "How fucking wet I am just because you squeezed my thigh? Do you think I'd regret anything when I'm this soaked for you?"

He can't help it, roaring the engine again before he abruptly comes to a stop on the side of the road, his mind too dizzy to comprehend anyfuckingthing. "Fucking christ, baby, I-"

You interrupt him again, head lulling to his side, giving him those desperate, lewd eyes again. "I've wanted this for so fucking long, Eddie, p-please, you said you'd help me sleep... relax, I'm more than okay with it."

You know he's on the verge of caving in, he wants this as much as you do. "Angel..." he mumbles, tone so pornographically lustful that you feel the need to show him how much you want him.

You shove his hands inside of your panties in frustration, and he groans lightly at it, fingertips run up and down your slit, never entering your hole, taking his time to fully feel how badly you want him.

He collects your wetness at the tip of his digits, smearing them over the hood of your clit, earning a shallow gasp from you, just enough to break him, "Oh, Jesus fucking Christ, you're soaked," he grunts, eyes watching you hungrily.

"Mhmm, all for you," you hum, head thrown comfortably into the headrest, eyes lulling. He runs his fingertips over your sides, teasing, covering you in your juices, and all you can do is mewl for him.

A digit slips inside of you easily, making you moan so loud that Eddie's cock aches in the confinements of his sweats, admiring the way your mouth gapes at how good his fingers feel. "God, you're perfect like this, princess," he hums, fingertips circling around your clit, knowing exactly what to do to get you worked up.

It makes you whimper pathetically, turns out Eddie really does know you. So much so that all you want to do is cum on his thick fingers, have him take you home, make you bounce on his cock again and again.

He pushes another finger inside of you, watching the way your cunt takes his fingers all greedily. You're the one who's supposed to be high, yet he feels dizzy, so fucking dizzy that he can barely comprehend it.

This is all real, you just begged him to finger you, and now you're mewling on his fingers, pussy throbbing as he stretches you out slowly.

"That's it, baby," he encourages, listening to the sweet sounds of your whimpers, "doin' so good f'me," his praises drive you even crazier, and loud moans escape from your parted lips the more his thumb circles around your clit.

"So greedy, hmm?" He coos condescendingly, relishing in the pretty faces you make, his ring finger joining inside of your soppy cunt easily, "E-Eddie," you mumble, lost in him, fully.

His fingers pump in and out of you at a rough pace, getting you closer and closer to the edge, he can feel your cunt squeezing his ringed fingers desperately.

"You close, angel?" He grunts, and a sheen of heat creeps its way across your chest and up your throat at how good he is, all you can do is nod pathetically, too dizzy and too lost in his fingers to even speak.

You take your plump bottom lip between your teeth in an attempt to stiffle your pathetic moans, but once he adds another finger, cold rings brushing against your clit, you can't help yourself.

"E-Eddie, fuck!" You moan, and he watches in awe, keeps his praises up, eager to see what you look like when you cum. He knows you'll be even prettier, screaming out his name, soaking his fingers in your pretty juices.

Your chest heaves with how much you're feeling him, stuffed full of his fingers, you can't even begin to imagine what his cock would feel like inside of you. Shit, maybe next time.

You pathetically rut your hips into his fingers, and he groans so filthily that your body feels frail, "That's it, baby," he praises. "Use me, honey, use my fingers to get yourself off."

Your face contorts with the sweetest pain and pleasure, his fingers plunged deep inside of you, padded thumb still continuing it's circles. Once his fingers curl inside of you, you know you’re a fucking goner.

Each of his movements, his touch, ignites a fire within you that is heightened by the weed, you are so desperate to cum that you don't even realize how pathetically you've been soaking his fingers, so wet and Eddie relishes in it.

"Oh, f-fuck, I'm gonna cum!" You moan out once you feel that dizzying pleasure bubbling in your chest, he can feel your pussy flutter around his thick fingers, making his chest swell with pride. "Mhmm, just like that, darlin', cum on my fingers."

It's all the confirmation you need before you cry out his name again, back arching as pleasure explodes inside of your stomach, vision growing white and dizzy. Your fucked out face, pathetic moans, and your gaping mouth making Eddie's cock strain tighter and tighter, as if that’s even possible.

His fingers don't leave your soppy cunt until he makes sure you ride your orgasm out, relishing in the pretty expressions your face contorts to as you fall apart for him.

Bringing a stupid wide grin to his face that has you feeling giddier. The weight of what the two of you did doesn't dawn yet, you're too tired, too fucked out to care, and all Eddie can think about is going back to the trailer and rubbing one out while thinking about the pretty sounds you made, the pretty shapes your face took as you came on his fingers. His.

He'll think about how pretty your eyes look rolled all the way back inside of your head when he's slamming into you, cock stuffed inside of you, parted lips repeating his name like a fucking prayer. Your tight cunt fluttered around his cock, milking him dry.

With a groan, he brings his fingers to his mouth, licking clean the remains of you, pathetically groaning at how sweet you taste. You watch him with lulled eyes, breath growing heavier, and if you weren’t about to pass out, you’d beg him for more, have his hard cock stuffed inside of you.

“Tastes so goddamn sweet,” he grunts, licking any taste of you left off his lips, your sweet juices engrained in his tastebuds.

You blink quickly to process all of it, mind numbed out. Fuck, he’s making this so goddamn hard for you.

“E—Eddie,” you say breathlessly, chest heaving as a shy smile appears on your lips, mind hazy as you try to form words. "T-that was amazing, shit."

"Yeah?" He beams, the praise is all he needs. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

Your eyes glimmered at his words, air between the two of you was charged with a sweet tension. Breaths almost synchronized with the way both of your chests rose and fell on the rhythm of what just fucking happened. And all the feelings that led up to it.

You wanted to talk about it, take this further, maybe even continue back home.

But sleep began to settle inside of you, eyelids betrayed your pent-up feelings for him, already drooping in surrender.

And of course, Eddie knew by the sheepish smile you gave him, you were almost on the brink of sleep, and it was more important than his stupid feelings because the two of you had all the time in the world to talk about... whatever this was, tomorrow.

But if you lost your sleepy state, he knew you'd never get it back, “You sleepy yet?" He asked, thoughtful, caring gaze watching you intently, making you nod.

"Mhmm," you hummed, "But, Eddie..."

"Yeah?" He prompted, eager to soak up each and every one of your words.

"I don't want this to be a one time thing," you admitted, shyly, your heart leaping out of your chest in excitement.

"Thank fucking God." Slipped past his lips unintentionally, causing a hearty giggle to bubble up within you, easing away all of your worries.

Pools of warmth swam in his gaze, fully melting into you. "Me neither, sweetheart," he whispered, starting the car again, engine humming to life.

He met you with a saccharine smile. "But we have all the time to talk about that tomorrow, promise."

It hung in the air, the promise, almost like a warm hug engulfing you. All the confirmation you need.

"You just go to sleep, now, honey, I'll carry you inside," he urged, pressing a light kiss onto your forehead.

"T-thank you," you hummed, resting your head comfortably, deep slumber not taking long to find you while he watched intently, mind still running with thoughts of you.

Both of you had no clue what would happen with this; yet, you were now sure that this wouldn't remain as a one-time thing.

After all, you had a hard time sleeping almost every night, thankfully, you would now have Eddie to fix that.

[reidmania]

THIS IS WHAT THE DRUGS ARE FOR | spencer reid

good riddance x spencer reid one shot series masterlist

summary; when no one else helps spencer’s addiction after being kidnapped — you do, and you offer him help as a recovering addict yourself

warnings; mentions of kidnapping, early seasons reid, around the time of his addiction to dilauded, mentions of suicide, mentions of being shot (pass tense during a case) mentions relapsing, addiction to opioids mentions of being addicted to oxycodone, drug use, overdoses, hurt x comfort, angst, not a lot of romance but its sweet, fem reader, normal criminal minds stuff. mentions of the team completely ignoring spencers addiction bc that was messed up.

an; honestly this was difficult to write as a recovering oxycodone addict, a little bit self indulgent.. whoopsies!! but in honour of 5 years sober 🤗🤗 (i am too open with my issues on social media) this is probably horrible

‘This is what the drugs are for. Turn the lights off on the comedown I still get emotional, when I think about your old house. Hopefully, the high, works to change my mind’

You noticed quicker than you wanted to admit. It wasn’t like you could pinpoint a certain point, maybe it was when he turned back at you after standing up from the dead body of his kidnapper and you saw the way his pupils blew, something guilty behind them — maybe thats when your concern started.

You knew for certain when his focus was in and out daily. You knew everyone on the team had their suspicions, had the gut feeling that there was something more to the tiredness in Spencer’s eyes. You knew more than you wanted to admit.

Your hands twirled the pen on your fingers as your eyes stayed fixated on the male sitting in front of you, you watched as his hands came up to scratch the inside of his elbow. You knew the motion all too well, like muscle memory.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you heard Hotch ask a question to which only Spencer reid would know the answer to. You shifted your gaze slightly as you leant back in your chair, at his lack of response and focus.

It took Hotch saying his name a second time for his gaze to pull and a small apology to leave his lips. Hotch repeated the question and you watched as it took a minute too long for Spencer Reid’s all to long ramble to start about the detail.

Normally, someone would make a teasing comment about how Spencer had to think about it, but the tension stayed among the group as they all noticed the same thing — yet no one did anything about it.

You knew the feeling well, and it made your skin itch in anger.

Rossi handed out jobs, inviting you to stay back with Spencer to help with case work. You looked at Spencer noticed his eyes dropping, it made your chest ache.

Everyone else had left leaving you and Spencer in the conference room. Your gaze stayed fixated on him as his mind fell in and out of focus. You had to admit if you didn’t know Spencer Reid as well as you did, he hid it well.

“How long?” You muttered out, as your eyes pulled away from his to skim the case. You could feel his gaze on yours and you could practically feel the heavy breath that left his mouth.

His words came out snappy, but you knew he didn’t mean it. “What?”

You looked up at him again, seeing his gaze on yours, his pupils constricted and you could practically see the way his hand was twitching not to claw at the inside of his elbow.

You knew he knew what you meant, you knew he was playing dumb. You pulled the same thing for years. If he wanted to play the game you’d play, and you would outplay him every time. “How long have you been using?”

His face twisted up, he could’ve been an actor.

“Im not.” He pushed out. His voice betrayed his face, as it went an octave higher. For someone so smart you’d think he would know how to lie — but he didn’t, not well. Not to you. He could tell you didn’t believe him from the way your eyebrow quipped. “I don’t know why you’d think that.” He added, trying to sound convincing.

You hummed, “Your pupils are constricted for one. You aren’t focusing, you are all depressed. Oh and you’re slurring.. By the way” You pointed out with your pen in your hand directed towards him. You watched as his face fell for a split second. If you weren’t paying as much attention as you were you might’ve missed it.

But you were paying attention.

“Im just tired— and I have allergies ” He lied. It made you want to laugh at the familiarity of all his lies, the same ones you remember thinking you were so smart for thinking of in the moment so many years ago.

You let out an unconvinced ‘mhm’ as you nodded your head. You watched as it dawned in his eyes that he had been called out. You wondered if maybe he enjoyed the fact that no one pointed it out, until now, until you.

“I had allergies too, for a long time” You stated out simply, playing his game, outplaying him. Your goal here wasn’t to make him feel ashamed, in any way. It was purely to let him know that he wasn’t alone.

You remembered feeling so alone.

He spluttered slightly, his eyes widened the slightest bit. “What?” He breathed out, confused because he never would’ve guessed. You knew that. You knew the person you were now was nothing like the person you were a few years prior. You hid your addiction well but you were changed as a person, and you weren’t nearly the same person you were before the addiction.

You offered him a small smile, “I know an addict when I see one Reid, I know the addiction. I know your skin feels like it’s crawling right now and your head is probably spinning because you are going through withdrawals. I know all the lies, I used them all before” You said softly as you lean your forearms against the table; your eyes softened as your gaze stayed fixated on his.

You watched the words slowly process through his head. Slowly but surely he seemed to understand. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “How- How long have you known?” He asked, his voice small, evident how confronting this conversation was for him — but he needed it. He needed to know he had someone in his corner.

“I had my suspicions for a while. I wanted to be sure before I said anything..” You muttered out as you reached across the table to take his hand in yours comfortingly, “I was waiting— hoping someone else said something, I know I’m not your first choice of a person to help you through this — but I am here” You said softly.

You weren’t not close to Spencer. You were, close in age, had similar interests and you two got along well. The childish crush you had on him remained buried in between your ribcage — that was the thing about being an addict, it made you a good actor. You could act your way through any feeling.

He almost coughed at your words, his hand tightening around yours as you gave him a supportive squeeze. “Im- Thank you. I-“ His words seemed heavy on his tongue as his head shook. “I’m glad it’s you.” He said honestly.

You offered him a soft smile. You could almost see a question weighing on his mind, “What is it spence? What do you want to ask?” You prompted him, knowing his mind was properly almost complete fog at this point, overtaken by cravings.

“What- What were you addicted to? When?” He asked, eyebrows pushed upwards as if he was trying to figure out the timeline of your addiction, it caused an uncomfortable bubble in your chest.

“I was an oxy’s girl” You said, you knew it wasn’t funny but it seemed as joking was the only way to get through talking about this no matter the unsettling feeling it left in your stomach.

You exhaled heavily, “I started taking them in college after a surgery.. and well- I got addicted, obviously.” You ran your free hand through your hair as the memory dwindled in the back of your mind. Spencer’s hand squeezed your hand softly, making a half hearted tight lipped smile line your lips.

“I was clean when I first started here.” You said, fingers fidgeting. He listened with as much focus as he could with your words — you didn’t take offence to his half out of it mind. You couldn’t. “I relapsed after I got shot and they put me on them — no one knew about my addiction and I was too embarrassed to admit it to the doctors in front of the team, I relapsed once I got out of hospital.” You stated honestly.

You remembered it clear as day, after four years sober, the day you relapsed still stayed engraved into the walls of your mind freshly. You had been shot in the shoulder on a case, you were rushed to hospital and put on oxycodone and other pain medications immediately while unconscious. When you woke up and asked what they had given you, the team was standing around your bed so all you could do was nod, the relapse happened after that.

Spencer’s hand tightened on yours as his face pulled with guilt when he realised he didn’t notice. He opened his mouth to apologise but you cut him off, already knowing what he was going to say. “It’s okay.” You said, tightening your grasp on his hand mirroring his grasp on yours. “I mastered my lies by then, after years and years of lying to everyone around me.. I knew what worked and what did it.. I did it to myself” You spoke honestly.

He chewed on his lip as his gaze adverted to the table. You held his hand tightly as you felt it twitch slightly. You knew he wanted to scratch his elbow and you knew why. Your face softened all over again.

“It’s not worth it Spence. Trust me.” You said, voice heavy with honesty and you meant it more than words could explain. “You get mean, really mean, you lose yourself more and more everyday. Its not worth losing everyone around you, its not worth losing yourself” You gaze stayed on his face even when his eyes avoided yours.

You heard the shaky breath leave his lips, and then his hand left yours as his pinched his eyelids, trying to stop the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes as he squeezed them shut. It made your stomach ache.

“It- Its so hard” He said quietly. You didn’t think you had ever experienced heartbreak like hearing his voice break. Any sort of pain you felt in your life didn’t quite compare to seeing him fall apart from your words.

“I know- I know” You instantly stood up from your seat as you walked around the table towards him, he stood up as well and before you could do anything his hands were around your waist, pressing his body against yours and his head into the crevice of your neck. You arms wrapped around him without a second thought.

You could feel his tears against the skin of your neck, they were hot and thick. Your hand ran across his back gently. You always thought you’d know exactly what to do if this moment ever came to be — but you didn’t.

Words died in the back of your throat as all you could do was hold the boy in your arms as he let out the quietest soft sobs that made a gut wrenching feeling settle in your bones as goosebumps ran over your skin.

“I- I want to stop — I want to- How did you stop?” He said, wiping his face as he stood up straight, arms pulled back by his side. Your heart ached and your skin burned.

You shook your head, “Do you remember when I had to take emergency leave for family emergency?” You asked, eyes looking up into his that gleamed wet and dreary. It pulled on your heart strings and uncomfortable amount,

He nodded briefly, after he took a long moment to try to recall. You nodded back, a sigh leaving your lips. “I- Um.. I overdosed.” You stated, trying to speak stronger than your voice allowed you to. “I was in hospital for two weeks, connected to machines and wires — forced to speak to someone everyday until they deemed me healthy. I didn’t tell anyone- no one knows” You continued to shake your head.

“Do not let it get to that point Spencer — Shaking on the floor and literally frothing at the mouth, feeling so cold but not even functioning enough to know what being cold is, is not want you want. I know it feels good now — but you are going to kill yourself whether you want to or not if you keep taking it.” You spoke clearly, wanting your point to be perfectly clear. It was not worth it.

He held guilt behind fogged eyes, guilt that he didn’t notice, guilt that he almost lost you — literally and he had no idea. That you were alone during the lowest point of your life and he had no idea. He allowed your words to cloud his mind for a moment as they worked to overpower the cravings that were working to controlling his system.

“i- I don’t- Im sorry.” He stuttered over his words as he failed to think of anything better to say. Your face fell briefly as you wrapped your arms around him again.

“Im here? Okay. We will do this together day by day. I am here and I’m always going to be here Spence.” You comforted non the less.

He needed it and you needed him

[onlyseokmins]

size matters • l.c.

Pairing: lee chan x afab!reader Genres: major smut (minors PLS dni!), losers + idiots + besties to lovers Warnings: *deep breath* MONSTER COCK CHAN, swearing, love me some switch action, reader does not use specified pronouns but refers to their pussy as "she", reader also wears a skirt, pet names, alcohol and goofy drunk antics, bad humor, use of "whore/slut", tons of dirty talk, they're kinda pervs, mentions of toys, masturbation (fem), hints to past sexual partners, mentions of oral (male), actual oral (fem. receiving), car sex (kind of), condoms, fingering (fem. receiving), WAP lmao and squirting, bantering, degradation, wee bit praise, unprotected/protected MESSY sex, underwear play (??? lmao), precum play (??), edging, face-riding, groping/manhandling, objectification, reverse cowgirl position, bulge kink, slapping/spanking, possession, almost choking, biting, tears and crying, a bit of overstim and if i missed smth lmk sdfjkajdf WC: 8.3k A/N: this started out purely self-indulgent as usual and reads like a bad pornhwa but it's also nana month so a happy early birthday to @bitchlessdino because i will be asleep when the clock actually strikes 12 tomorrow! and bc i will dedicate all chan content to the loml! this is like my 3rd longest fic on this blog and 4th longest fic ever and it's just utter filth and smut... hate it here. i always get into a crazy headspace when i write for this man. i hope y'all enjoy my delusions before i retire out of shame 😬

"I'm worried my dick's too big."

Laughter bubbles in your chest at the same time the beer you'd just taken a swig of swishes around in your mouth. It's so like your best friend to say something stupid. Especially when your mouth is full.

He frowns in mild annoyance as you rock back and forth with mirth, struggling not to spit out your drink and make a mess. But also trying to refrain from choking. Because if you die, you sure as hell will find a way to make sure everyone knows that a dumbo and his terrible concern over having a big cock drove you to your demise in such an unfortunate manner.

And no one wants that.

"I dunno what's so funny," the man in question irritably gripes, "but for god's sake, calm down and swallow."

Though it ends up that Chan is the one gulping first. Ears burning and eyes widening when you wiggle your brows deviously and do as he says. Sticking your tongue out for good measure — just for proof that yes, you did swallow —  but he's quickly whipping his gaze away. Head turning to the side as if that does anything to hide the embarrassing look overtaking his expression. 

He thinks you'll back off, hoping the nervous twiddling of his fingers will deter further teasing. But he should really know better. The telltale signs are littered across the table in front of him and even overpower your usual sweet scent when you lean close into his personal space.

"So, you like it when someone swallows versus spits for you, Channie?"

"You're drunk."

"So are you." 

Because that's what happens every movie night. The two of you enjoy too many beers after a feel-good show and start talking nonsense.

"Yeah, and we're having a very serious conversation right now. A drunk one. But still, serious."

You purse your lips. "You're bluffing. No way you're complaining about the hugeness of your dick. 'Cause no one does that."

"It's not like I'm trying to boast or even insecure, I'm just worried."

"Worried about what?" you snort and push at his shoulder. "There'd be no reason to worry if you know how to use it. In the end, size doesn't matter at all."

Chan quirks an eyebrow, side-eyeing you. "At all?" 

"If your technique is good, it shouldn't matter as long as everyone feels satisfied. You know, you just gotta hit that one spot…" 

You start doing hand motions to demonstrate your point that seem wildly inappropriate and are honestly so drunkenly uncoordinated to the point that Chan not only feels compelled to stop you but doubts anyone would feel good from that. Then again, he's never really managed to partake in sloppy sex, so who knows? 

He grabs your hands to still them and though you no longer move, you protest. "What? You'll have 'em seeing and feeling stars! To be honest… you prolly will too if ya try your best."

"You know, I do know how to pleasure someone. It's not really an issue once I'm inside, it's just getting there that's kind of a problem."

"Channie, are you secretly a virgin?" You lay your head on his shoulder, hand running down his forearm and weaving your fingers between his. "Issokay if you are."

"You know I'm not!"

"Well, yeah I guess you're a bit of a whore. Still love you no matter what."

Chan chokes out your name in frustration. "All I'm saying is that I have a huge cock and I'm sad about it!"

"And you keep saying I'm drunk. Look, you're valid in being… upset about having a fat dick even if I don't understand. Just telling you that sometimes a ton of prep is helpful and even a decent amount of lube. No shame in that. Not everyone's built to take a large-ass, whopping cock." And then you mumble extremely quietly, "If it's even that big."

Unfortunately, he hears you and scoffs. Popping his shoulder up to gently shove you off him. Though that only causes you to grasp for his sweatpant-clad thigh and hold onto it for dear support in your half-drunken stupor. The perverted part of both your brains flash to your hand squeezing tightly around something else; the unmistakable heat of said something else radiating towards the closest part of your hand and causing a hot rush to flare across your entire body.

Or maybe that's just the alcohol.

Doesn't stop you from shamelessly ogling what you can only presume to be his bulge, gray fabric stretched over his groin and straining against muscular thighs. 

"Are you flaccid right now?"

"What's it to you?"

"Just curious. Thinking about my different dildo sizes."

He balks at that. "Pl-please don't."

"Yeah, not sure I wanna compare what your dick would realistically feel inside me," you admit even if you find it difficult to tear your hungry eyes away to take in Chan's mortified expression. 

"Can we stop talking about my personal parts now?" he squeaks out and you shoot him a dubious side-eye even though you do easily acquiesce.

"With pleasure. Speaking of which…"

Chan's hushed groan of "Oh dear" goes ignored even after you drape an arm on the back of the couch behind his head, lay the other across his chest, and splay your legs over his lap. Your lips end up leaving a sticky residue on his cheek, neck, and ear as you graciously whisper your own sex secret — the spontaneous topic of tonight — to him. 

"Only my bullet vibe has the ability to make me squirt. None of the others, not even the thirteen-inch one with suction ridges. So yeah, hm… size doesn't matter, does it Channie?"

"Well, those are toys and uh… my big dick is simply what it is. A big, regular human dick. Nothing fancy."

"Then you should try harder."

He apologizes for having such blatant ignorance about the matter and then eventually you end up falling asleep together. 

Limbs tangled and wrapped around one another just like every other night you doze off with the comfort of the other's body warmth. And like usual, you and Chan peer at each other with eyelids heavy from sleep and goofy but comforting smiles — merely inches apart when the sun's rays sneak a peek through the blinds to shine onto your faces. Because everything's normal and just right between the two of you. 

Like always.

Except it's not.

All you can think about is your best friend's dumb, gargantuan cock and his weird embarrassment about it. If you didn't know Chan as well as you do, you might think he was just using that as an excuse to get into your pants but you know better. He's genuinely perturbed over his too-big dick! 

You let out a sigh. Warm breath fans the tip of your ear while large hands lay on your hips, ringed fingers teasing the bare skin revealed by the daring crop top you decided to wear tonight.

"Am I boring you, baby?"

"Kind of," you admit, displeased that you weren't enjoying the usual thrill of grinding on the dancefloor with a hot man. Turning around to face said man, you purse your lips. "How would you feel if you had a big dick, Cheol?"

He raises an eyebrow in the self-assured way only the Choi Seungcheol can. "Shouldn't you be asking what it's like possessing the largest dick of the century?"

"Not helping, I'm not talking about big dick energy."

"That's not what you said when it was shoved halfway down your throat."

"Can't say much if I'm sucking someone off, you dolt. And I said you made my jaw hurt 'cause you're a guy that likes it rough, not 'cause I thought your dick was overly huge."

"Brat," Seungcheol says rather affectionately, "so whose humongous cock are you taking tonight?"

Your eyes wander over his shoulder to the bar, the same place he noticed your gaze strayed towards all night. A glee-filled smirk is on your face when you meet his eyes again though you only casually state with a shrug, "An absolute loser's."

"Wasn't aware it was self-pleasure night, sweetheart," he jokingly snorts, nudging you in that direction before you can get too mad at him. But not without delivering a playful slap on your ass as a 'good luck to charm' to send you on your way. "Go get 'em, Tiger!"

The cocky bastard must think you're after Soonyoung tonight, who greets you by placing a polite kiss on the cheek and a casual side hug. Though he looks hella fine tonight with slicked-back hair and donning the signature head-turning 'leather jacket, silver jewelry' fit that Seungcheol is sporting, he's not who you have in mind.

You squeeze him back though, always ready to return the affection you receive. "Rare to not see you dancing, tough crowd tonight?"

"Nah, I just have my priorities set." He angles his head toward the bartender who sneaks subtle glances at the two of you as if to distinguish what intentions you had approaching such a striking man. 

That they just so happen to have their eyes on. Luckily Soonyoung does too.

"Ah, well, so do I!" 

Never one to want to get stuck between two people and cause a potential misunderstanding, you pat him on the arm, wink encouragingly at the bartender, and skip away to find the person who's been occupying your mind for the past few days in a very different way like crazy.

Chan hasn't moved from where you last caught sight of him — in the corner of the bar nursing the same glass of bourbon for far too long. There's distinctly more water in it from the rapidly melting ice ball than alcohol but you still ease it out of his grasp. Taking a sip only to wrinkle your nose in disgust.

Your best friend observes your expression with a bemused one of his own after you hand it back, lip gloss staining the rim. A far cry from the darkened, sultry stare that followed as you moved from one gyrating body to the next. You wonder how you've never noticed it before. But then again, you yourself have never thought about him in that kind of way until now. 

While momentarily lost in your thoughts, Chan's working on getting the attention of Soonyoung's flirt target to order your favorite drink. But you place a hand on his arm, squeezing the firm muscle beneath your fingertips. 

"I wanna go home."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just feel like leaving."

He shakes his head. "You looked like you were having a good time."

"Ooh… are you jealous?"

"Hah, jealous? No. Concerned that someone did something you didn't like? Yeah."

"There will be," you tug him by the open collar of the flannel he's wearing so you're nose-to-nose, "if he doesn't take me back to his place right now."

His eyebrows raise, eyes widening as they drop down to the pouty curve of your lips. You swear he even peers at your cleavage with the tiniest of squints before finishing what little bit of liquor is left, standing, and pulling you along with him outside.

Walking to his car parked by the sidewalk is truly a breath of fresh air, the chill of the evening breeze and city noises rushing by helps bring Chan back down to earth. No longer on the crazy high fueled by the hypnotic, seductive thrall of the nightclub's booming bass that adds to him being wholly entranced by your teasing allure. 

Now it's just you and him. Simple as usual, getting ready to drive around.

"You want to go to my place?"

"Yeah."

He starts the engine, checking the side mirror to estimate when there will be an available opening to pull out. "Whaddya wanna do, stop somewhere for snacks?"

"Sure. Maybe condoms too."

"I'm sorry, what?" It's a good thing the car's still in park when his foot stomps on the gas pedal out of shock, revving the engine and making you both jump. "Why?"

Chan even goes as far as to steal a glance over his shoulder at the backseat. As if you had miraculously snuck in someone from the club that you were planning to fuck and he didn't know about it. 

There's no one there, of course.

"Why… are we picking up… condoms?" he repeats. "I um, I have a bunch of unopened boxes i-if you need them."

"You do? Good."

"Uh, can you at least let me know how many are used so I don't suddenly run out?"

Your eyebrows raise though he doesn't even dare look at you. "Do you think you'll cum that much?"

"Pardon?! N-no, I only have a surplus because I bought them in bulk!"

"I thought you weren't having sex a lot because you have such a big cock. One that rarely goes inside anyone."

His hands cover his face. "I'm saying it's fine if you want to use them!"

"Gee, thanks. You want me to make condom balloon animals or something?"

One brown eye glares at you between fingers. "… If you're into that."

"I bet extra large ones would make brilliant animal balloons but that's a sad waste when they could go around a dick instead. I mean it can't be easy for you to find ones that don't break. Whatever, at least you have a ton. And as you know I'm on the pill."

He has to know. He has to ask. "Are you confused or is it just me?"

"Clearly, because I don't know why you think I'd be into filling condoms with air and not cock."

"Forgive me if I'm wrong, but — I mean like there's no way — but are you implying that you want to… you know, with me…?"

"Whaddya mean 'no way'? Fuck yeah, I wanna fuck you! Sorry, was that not clear?" 

Chan chokes on his saliva and has a brief hacking fit. "No?!" 

"Damn, uh… my bad. Sorry, I thought it was super obvious. Simply put, I can't get the thought of you out of my mind or my pussy, so yeah. We should totally bang. Have sex and all that. Only if you want to obviously. No hard feelings if not."

Oh god, yes he does. Since he now knows that you can squirt, let alone with something as small as a little bullet vibrator, all he can think about is what would happen if he teased your cunt with the thick head of his cock. It's been driving him absolutely feral and fueled a rather ugly feeling when he saw Seungcheol all over you earlier. 

But now that he knows you want him? Maybe just as much as he wants you? Explicitly? 

He starts driving in an attempt to help collect himself. You're at ease, able to read him well and know he'll need some time to process and organize his thoughts. So, you wait in silence while he does just that, and when he speaks again his voice is low, laced with utter desire.

"You've been thinking about me?"

"Uh-huh."

"Your pussy has too?"

"Mhm, Channie… she's been crying for you like crazy."

"Fuck," he mutters and grips the steering wheel tightly to avoid swerving into the berm. He rasps out in a desperate beg, "C-can you touch yourself for me? Let me hear how loud she is?"

And you sweetly oblige with a hushed, "Of course," and can't lift your miniskirt up faster than you do now, pushing the drenched thong underneath to the side. Your clit's been buzzing nonstop ever since he whined about his big cock and you got to glimpse the outline of it. And with him now sitting beside you as your thumb rubs at the tiny nub, pointer fingers dipping in and out of your clenching hole, you both let out groans — you at the thrilling sensation and him at the insanely filthy sounds.

Chan steals a moment to take in the sight when he switches lanes, loving the way your tongue lolls past glossy lips that part to release little whimpers of pleasure. It's unlikely you'll squirt right now. But there's still a slick sheen of arousal glistening on your thighs so he holds onto the sick twist of hope that a trace will be left behind. He's pleased and licks his lips but has to swiftly pay attention to the road again, especially when your head rolls to the side, eyelashes pleadingly fluttering at him.

He needs to get home fast. Now.

The car fills with the sloppy noises of you playing with your cunt which grows wetter and wetter by the second. The air is heavy and oozes sex, the compact space growing more humid as you work and rile up your pussy, yourself, and the man beside you. You keep easing up to that delicious edge but never fully dipping over it, making sure to continue growing needier and more wanton until the blurry scenery rushing past the windows half-registers as familiar in your already fucked-out state of mind.

"Wanna get a feel of your cock," you whine out with no shame at how pitiful it sounds. "Gotta know how many fingers to stuff inside to stretch myself out for the real thing."

The way he spits out your name like a curse word makes your gummy walls contract tightly, emitting a moist suctioning sound when you pull your fingers out and bully them back in. 

"No. You have to wait."

"Don't wanna! Been waiting long enough."

"So fuckin' needy," he taunts as if he's not panting heavily with his fingers drumming against the steering wheel. "I don't think they'll come even close to opening up that tiny hole of yours effectively for my dick. But size doesn't matter, so whatever. Right, sweetheart?"

You cuss him out jokingly while working knuckle-deep inside your cunt. Humping against your palm and pulling at your nipples with the other hand underneath your top when he rolls to a stop at an empty four-way in the neighborhood. 

He swats your arm out and away, curiously sweeping his own fingers across your damp folds that flinch at the sudden contact but still mourn the devastating loss of being filled before he slaps at them. Chan grins like a total heathen at the way your hips jolt upon impact, growing more and more delirious at the way droplets of your arousal splash out at the action.

"If you cum by rubbing yourself on that seat — no hands — before I pull in the driveway, I'll let you touch me to mentally prep yourself before we get inside. Before I get inside you." His words are enunciated with a smirk that drops after bringing soaked fingers to his lips — eyelids fluttering with a grunt at your taste eagerly licked clean with his tongue. "God, do you know how delicious you are? Need you to sit on my face at some point, wanna drown in that sloppy pussy."

His dirty talk could be enough to finish you off, you belatedly realize. The earlier command to rut your aching clit against the scratchy fabric to soothe it makes you thrillingly feel like a depraved whore. 

"You're a fuckin' perv, Chan," you growl out as if you aren't doing exactly what he asked on instinct and loving how he's talking to you. How good he is at making you feel divine.

"Yeah? But I want something to remember this by."

"Sick," you snarl through gritted teeth like the knowledge of him thinking about this moment every time he gets in his car and looks at the passenger seat isn't getting you off even more. Bonus points if he jerks off to it. You act like it's not the catalyst to you coming undone, blaming it fully on the bump of the asphalt connecting to the concrete driveway hitting your hard nub just right — absolutely defiling his poor car with your arousal. "Sick in the head."

Neither one of you care. 

In fact, Chan's so pleased he ignores the words you both know you don't mean. Grabbing the hand you buried deep within your hole, but then chose to use it to grip at the console while following his command, and guides it to his mouth. Happily repeating the same thing he did to his own, maintaining eye contact as he tongues at your fingertips. Pupils dilating with how addicted he's become to your taste. Growing more and more eager to have it straight from the source in the very near future. 

Then he places your spit-coated fingers where his cock strains against dark jeans. A darker, damp spot on the denim signifies how much precum the tip is leaking, begging to be released. He squeezes the hand sandwiched between his and the hardening length, shallowly thrusting up into your palm so you can completely grope at its mouth-watering, jaw-aching girth. 

"Feel that?" he goads, "that's gonna have to fit inside your tight cunt."

Your eyes nearly cross at the realization. And of course, your pussy forlornly clenches around nothing, dripping out more arousal to add to the already soiled mess beneath you. 

Oh, you cannot wait.

He wasn't lying, positive every single finger stuffing your hole couldn't compare to the size you just felt beneath those very appendages. Tears collect at your lash line, already anticipating the sheer amount of pleasure you know you'll be feeling with a very warm and real dick. And he's not even anywhere inside of you yet!

Chan coos and wipes the tear that escapes to your cheek. Then he gets out of the car and comes around to the other side to help you walk since your legs are weak and shaking — for more than one reason. That's fine because it gives him almost a weird sense of pride and an excuse to grind and grope at you as he pleases while unlocking the front door. Surprisingly, both of you are giggling together as if you're naughty teens again, always up to no good. It feels strangely wholesome, a light sense of relief blooming and filling your entire body.

Until you're on the other side of the door and those feelings morph back into something carnal. More primal. And Chan must feel it too because you swear he growls when pinning you against the wall. 

"You'll let me eat you out, right? 'Course you will." 

Now it's your turn to feel perverse satisfaction, watching as his lip trembles at the very thought of getting denied such a treat. Feeling the man's absolute desperation through the fingertips that dig into your hips and slightly hike up the already ridiculously short skirt you're wearing.

"C'mon bestie, please."

"… You did not bestie-zone me right now."

"I — " Chan hesitates and you fear the reality of the situation has hit him. That he'll back out and leave you a yearning mess like this. But then he leans in close to whisper hotly against your ear, "What, you want me to call you something like baby?"

Your hum of consideration encourages him to continue, palms sliding down the sides of your bare thighs and lowering himself at a pace that matches the syllables of each word leaving his mouth. Keeping eye contact with you the whole time as a mischievous smirk lights up his stupidly handsome face. 

"Darling? Babe? Lovely sweetheart? Or…" His voice gets thicker, more gravelly until he's finally on his knees and peering up at you. "A vixen? Seductress? Little whore? My slut?"

His hands sneak upwards again, pausing when they're hidden under the pleat of your skirt. 

"Still, you'll always be my dear best friend." He acknowledges and for some reason, it fills you with a comforting sense of reassurance.

And then he waits, hoping — praying — to get your permission.

The coy way you lift up the skirt in no way matches the cute grin you flash at him. Biting your pointer finger as you reveal your pretty pussy for Chan, its puffy lips spread by the continually soaked thong stuck between them. His eyes flick almost nervously away from yours to get a look, letting out a strangled moan at the sight. 

Automatically drawn like a bee to honey. His heart thumps anxiously when your fingers bury in his bangs to yank at them, halting him just short of being able to stick his tongue out for a taste that he already misses. He whines, fully surrounded by the heady scent of your arousal and unable to feast. But you have something to tell him first.

"You can't make me cum."

"What? Why? Need to stretch — "

"No. I already spent hours practicing with my thirteen-inch, so it'll be fine. We're doing this so you know what the telltale signs are when I'm about to cum when this," you briefly release his hair so manicured nails can pet the outside of your glistening wet cunt, "is wrapped around your dick." You smile when he moans quietly at the revelation and you tug lightly again at silky strands, eager to hear more before you absolutely break him. "And don't you want to see me squirt?"

"God, yes."

You shove his face between your inner thighs. "Then this'll help, baby boy. So, don't you dare let me cum unless it's on your cock."

Chan really can't protest against what you call him and honestly wouldn't want to because that would mean leaving the delectable meal he's finally being allowed to dine on. Though your thong remains in the way, he uses it to his advantage. Sucking all the wetness out of it with a hearty groan of appreciation, pushing it back between your folds, and running his tongue that put it there in zig-zag motions along the sorry excuse for fabric. Then repeating the same motions on either side of the bare supple pussy lips that clench at every nibble, suck, and brush on them.

It isn't very long until he gets frustrated by its restrictions though, feeling outrageous at how jealous he's getting of a piece of cloth that gets to wrap around your cunt all the time. Like you can read his mind, you pull him off with breathless laughter at his inevitable moan of sadness and mumble words of reassurance that you're doing it for his benefit.

He can't really hear with the rush of adrenaline roaring in his ears but he surely sees how you rip the offending thong away. It tears easily, falling apart at its most sodden point. And finally, your pussy is truly bare all for him and he rushes to dive back in. Slurping and sucking at your drenched hole like a dehydrated man finding an oasis in the desert.

Again, Chan's intentions were to leave you weak with the magic his mouth and tongue could work but you don't really allow him. His neck's cranked at an awkward angle as you continue to grip at his hair and smother his lips and tongue with your cunt, sloppy ruts back and forth causing your clit to catch and bump against his nose. He doesn't mind even if he's ninety-nine percent positive this is how you'd get off on one of your toys — no, he definitely has not imagined that — but he's not complaining.

There's something in the way that you're utterly using him like he's nothing but an object for your ultimate pleasure. It has the blood rushing down to swell up his cock even more. And maybe he's willingly happy to do so. Offering his body for your pleasure, making sure to stiffen his tongue so it will hit part of your clit as you move and grind all over his face. 

It's kinda hot. He also might be enjoying this a little too much.

And just as his eyes roll up for the umpteenth time out of delicious, delirious dizziness, he feels it. 

The buildup must have been when you started humping his chin shamelessly, slamming down harshly enough that he's sure he'll have bruises to show off. Settling more and more of your weight forward to arch your back, breasts heavy as they follow gravity, and your nipples visibly poke through the crop top's thin material. 

Your hips jerk up and away a few times, the subtle wiggle in them certainly has your ass jiggling cutely. He also notes how your "ah" moans turn to "mhms", positive you're biting your lip with closed eyes and a pleased grin. By now the hands tangling in his hair have made their way to the back of his head and Chan knows one thing for sure.

You're on the brink of climaxing.

And as much as he wants you to make more of a mess on his face, he's a little afraid of what you might do — or might not do — so he obediently, but regretfully backs away and sinks down to sit on his heels. Pathetic, the way he has to simply watch like a good boy as your slit flutters above him and you release the death grip hold you had on his poor hair.

Once all of your weight is supported by the wall again, you slide down it to plop on the floor. A sheepish grin on your face as you praise him for doing such a great job, reveling in what a sexy, fucked-out look he's wearing — mussed-up hair, swollen lips, and a shiny mix of sweat and arousal decorating his face as his eyes struggle to refocus while he catches his breath.

He embarrassingly thinks you might kiss him when you lean in. Only to jolt with surprise at your hand slipping into his back pocket and he flinches after you squeeze at his well-shaped ass with a naughty giggle. 

"A souvenir," you murmur in his ear and he feels the spongy ball of your torn thong when he stands like it's a gold coin weighing down his jeans.

"Can't believe you ripped those yourself."

"Can't believe you didn't rip them."

"Didn't wanna ruin them," he admits because he'd honestly feel bad. Though you shoot him a funny look that he doesn't quite understand as he assists your wobbling frame on the walk to the bedroom.

"Dude, you've already ruined so many, what's one more pair?"

"Huh?"

It's amazing how serious you are when you ask, "Don't you remember how wet I've been getting thinking about your dumb cock? Almost ran out of panties to wear."

With that admission, Chan is immediately rushing you down the hallway and has you on his bed at record speed. It's so comical that you have no choice but to once again fall into that giggly headspace like earlier as you help one another strip each other's clothes off.

"God, why are you like this? Such a fucking little tease."

"You love it."

"Hm, yeah," he looks at you with such tenderness, "guess I do."

You verbally agree even as you grab at his wrist before he can throw his boxers to the ground. "Hand 'em over. It's only fair if you have mine," you point out when he raises an eyebrow.

"Someone's full of surprises."

"Well, somebody's loved all of them so I'm sure he'll like this one too."

Though he falls onto his back easily when you push him down, he can't help but raise concern. "I get that you… practiced, but wouldn't a better position be with me on top? You'll like — "

"And I get that you liked being used like a dildo, baby boy." 

You miss the chagrined look that rapidly spreads across Chan's pretty face at the callout. But that's okay because you turn around to throw a leg over and straddle his prone body, staring at your prize of the night — the fattest dick you've been fantasizing about in the flesh.

"Thanks for these, by the way." You send a wink at him over your shoulder, waving the boxers that dangle off your pointer finger. "Need something to bite onto," you add and moan when you deliberately let your tongue meet the salty patch of precum smeared on them before clamping the black cloth between your teeth.

His heavy cock jerks up, already overwhelmed by everything you're doing. His hips follow suit, also lifting once the feeling of your dripping cunt soaks his abs as you sit and press him back against the bed and reach a hand out. He groans, clutching at the blanket when your palm rubs at the sensitive skin. You marvel at how your decently sized fingers fail to fully wrap around the entire girth.

It already weighs a ton laying against the hand you're using and struggling to prop it up. Shining in all its glory from the excess that's leaked and coated it thoroughly. You seem happy to add to it and Chan's eyes widen at the couple of clear globs of arousal that drip out of your cunt, aided by two free fingers spreading your pussy lips and contracting your inner walls to squeeze them out. And then you sink a little lower, kissing the tip of his cock with your clit before rubbing the thick head between your folds.

"You're… you're so w-wet, mhm, fuck!" He's already on the brink of tears and this is just the beginning. And the gasping man might've just let out a sob at the sight of both of your hands shaking, clasped around his dick as you position it at the right angle and slowly ease the tip inside. "God, 'n so soft," he fucking gargles out due to how much he's drooling.

You're no better off. The saliva that's pooling in your mouth at the delightful ache and burn has completely saturated his boxers. They do nothing to muffle your moans that only grow higher in pitch with the few additional inches you attempt to take, a little more each time. But at least you won't grind your teeth together, plus you're buried in the taste and scent of Chan's essence. Even more so as you topple forward, nails digging into his shins.

It's almost humiliating. How you've ended up face-planting into the mattress and your hips take on a mind of their own, humping up and down midair yet still on the top of his cock. Circling and gyrating as they attempt to both run away and plop firmly up and down onto the hard, thick length begging to fully bury into your tight cunt that's slowly widening to accommodate. 

Luckily, it's not like Chan can make fun of or even blame you, focusing everything he can on not thrusting up into your wet heat on his own accord right now out of consideration. The man understands it's a stretch, a painful one at that.

He doesn't mind staying mildly distracted. There's so much to take in. Ogling the way your ass bounces and jiggles, pornographic sound effects of his cock absolutely bullying your pussy as it squelches in and out. Filling the room with nasty noises audio porn wishes it could truly replicate amid both of your pants, moans, groans, and whines.

It feels like forever until his length has finally made its home within your squishy walls that welcome it inside with a multitude of affectionate squeezes. But honestly, that barely lasts because your hips refuse to let up and once the stretch no longer burns as much and instead melts into mind-numbing pleasure, all you can do is ride him into delirium. And Chan fucking loves it, continuing to watch how your ass reverberates with each downward slam accompanied by the sting of ass cheeks slapping against his stomach over and over again.

"S-so slutty f'me, b-best friend actin' like a whore on my dick."

"Ah, mm… cock… your cock! It's makin' me act slutty!"

"Yeah? You like being my slutty best friend, baby?"

You lug your head onto the leg you'd been riddling with love bites and salivating all over after spitting out his ruined boxers, looking tearfully in his direction. Cross-eyed with a goofy smile on your face at how fucked-out you've become as your clit grinds against his squishy balls that tighten, firm, and fill up with each thud of your hips. 

"Mhm… yeah."

"You gonna be my slutty baby from now on?"

"Ohhh, touch me Channie… please!"

"Since y-you asked so nicely." He squeezes at your ass cheek though it's quickly wrenched out of his grasp because you can't stop moving. "But I… I asked you a question." And then his palm flies out, skin meeting skin in a loud crack against your other cheek. As if it's actually a punishment. "My pretty whore's too fucked out to answer, h-huh?"

"Mhmph! More… more!"

A gasp leaves your mouth and impossibly, your hips only speed up before they suddenly halt. Practically screaming at this point with how good your best friend's cock is buried so deeply and fully seated inside as you somehow manage to sit up with inhuman strength. 

Oh, but your darling Channie knows why.

He lazily grins, empty mind now playing all the signs through his head along to the same moments happening in real-time. You have a death grip on his thighs, certain he'd really impale you in a morbid way if you lose your hold as you bounce haphazardly. How nice, he decides to aid you — giving into the urges to thrust up into your suffocating little cunt whenever you rise up so you constantly remain stuffed full every single time.

Your back does its arch thing and he runs a hand down the curve, pushing down ever so gently as he takes over. It's his turn for a slapping assault, his balls returning the favor on your tender clit that pokes and rubs at them, egging on the brutal pace you started in the first place.

"Gonna squeeze the life outta me," and you clench even tighter around him so that even the air in his lungs is sucked out by the squeeze of your cunt. "You wanna murder me with that sweet pussy of yours? Choke the life outta me, sweetheart? Like the well-behaved little whore that you are?"

Chants of "yes, yes, yes" fall in between salacious moans of "mhms" and "fuck Channie, so good" and it fuels Chan into true unleashed feral mode. The addition of the white ring forming at the base of his cock in no way, shape, or form is helping to reign him in at all. He presses appreciative bruises into the skin of your hips, aiding your sore and tired legs with the powerful strength of his arms.

"A creamer too… oh my god, what can't your cunt do baby, fuck — so freakin' perfect."

"All… all for you!"

Chan laughs and it's mean, a petulant frown causing your lips to jut out at his mocking tone. "For me? You gonna be a-all mine from now on? Let me be the only one t-to stretch this sweet hole out?"

Ongoing cries of "yes" mixes and slurs with "yours" but it's enough for him, especially when you manage to moan out with a promise that you're definitely his slutty whore and will only be his forever.

That pleases him, an elated grumble rumbling in his chest. "Gonna fill 'er up real good and you'll swallow me whole baby. Feel me for days, drippin' outta — ah, shit!" 

His voice cracks, the hands assisting your movements haul your hips up and then down, anchoring them firmly against his pelvis. You peer over your shoulder at him in utter dismay at suddenly being empty. His missed cock trembling without your warmth, flopping hot and hard against your stomach. Granting a helpful outside visual of how deep it can drill up into your cunt. But that's kind of useless when you already experienced it first-hand, so all you can do is send Chan a weepy glare.

"S-sorry babe, we just, I should probably… " His eyes dart to the unopened drawer of his nightstand. "Gonna throw a condom on."

You let out a scoff of disbelief and discontent, surly brat behavior poking through. "Doesn't matter, wanna feel you fill me up. 'N then squirt it all out, won't matter anyways."

"That's not how it works."

Chan's grateful the usual post-nut clarity somehow hit before. It's still awful timing and might have been a complete mood killer but you're both so worked up — you in particular — it doesn't seem to matter. Even as he nudges you off while reaching for a package, you back up and try to grind against his cock to change his mind. But you reluctantly give up, especially when he ends up reacting with a harsher hiss more from rolling the latex down the sensitive length than your plump ass rubbing it. 

You're honestly a little offended. 

He hushes and tries to soothe you. Fumbling with the slick mess around your gaping hole and dipping inside occasionally with one hand as he works on the condom. But you know for a fact you've been ruined because you barely feel a thing after your cunt's been stretched out for and filled specifically with his huge cock. 

Now you just wish he'd ultimately finish the job of ruining you. Oh, and maybe continue some more after. And a lot. 

You grimace because you're able to think too much. And then Chan's finally all ready to go and your cheek is suddenly pressed into the rumpled sheets, nipples brushing deliciously against them. You're pushed onto your forearms and he helps widen your knees at a spread angle so your pussy is fully presentable and gapingly accessible. 

"Good thing I'm flexible." 

"Yeah," Chan licks his lips, "just as I'd expect from my sweet slut." 

"You gonna fill this slut up then, Channie or — " 

You're cute off by the squeal at his cock ramming back inside of where it belongs. Meanwhile, he chuckles darkly, running a hand through sweaty bangs as he tries to distribute weight solidly with how he's risen to his knees. Finding little support from the mattress to support the onslaught of powerful thrusts in and out of your pussy and discovers a better method with a tight hold of your hips where his hands instinctively fall. 

"Best way to shut a whore up is to fuck them." He clicks his tongue in disapproval because you're nuzzling face-first into the bed, muffling the sounds that drive him crazy. "Doesn't mean I don't wanna hear you moan f'me, baby."

What he doesn't know is you're trying to find something to bite into that won't end up being your poor tongue. 

To manhandle you as he sees fit, Chan's fingers slip down to splay around where your vocal cords lie. Thumb digging beneath your jawline into the soft fleshy skin of your neck. Teasing you with a not-quite-there chokehold that causes you to pulsate around the cock sliding in and out with little resistance thanks to the help of the slick that pools endlessly out of your core. 

Then he's turning your head to the side to watch your eyelids flutter rapidly. Noticing how your jaw is clenched, teeth practically gnashing at each push into you that now relentlessly strokes that bundle of nerves. Taking pity, he lends a finger. Prying open your mouth and not caring when you bite down on it with a ferocity that could break skin — that's what he offered it for anyways — though it will definitely leave behind bruising indents that'll take days to heal. 

But he wouldn't care if you ended up breaking his bones too. With the way he's driving his dick over and over into you like a madman, he possibly could break something by that alone. The new position benefits the both of you greatly, granting him a better angle to reach deep and you find comfort in the way his body lays against yours. Pressing you down further into the bed, the weight comforting.

Even through the latex, he can feel the little bump of nerves his tip brushes against that's just rough enough to make him shiver. He purposefully aims his pelvis to be able to hit it each time. The lone arm at your hip wraps around your abdomen and he moans at how he can feel the bulge of skin pressed against his forearm from the size of the monster dick within you. 

It drives him feral, punctuating each sharp thrust with a praising hiss of, "Best. fuckin'. pussy. ever!"

And then it's happening. You can literally see the tightly-wound knot unraveling. Can feel as it loosens while your cunt suctions around his cock in a hard, vice-like grip. You cling around him, refusing to let him leave your warmth for a second. Not even daring to let him slide even a bit out. Though he wouldn't even think of it. As the mental ties come undone in your brain, so does your body — plummeting over and free-falling off the cliff of pleasure.

White flashes across your vision as your body writhes and shakes beneath Chan. Overcome by how fucking amazing it feels to be so full with the devastatingly huge dick of the person you care about the most tearing apart your insides. You're sobbing, tears drenching your face and where it lays. 

Chan's praising you through it all, complimenting how good you are for him, how perfect everything about you is, and how only you — his bestest, sluttiest, sweetest friend — could take him so well.

"Fuckin' knew you would be the one," he confesses and presses a kiss against your neck. It's so tender, full of love and gentleness despite how his hips cruelly still haven't let up, and it makes you wail even louder. "Ever since you smiled at me. Now, c'mon sweetheart 'n give it all to me. Show's only just gettin' started."

He's guiding you through the most intense orgasm you've ever had as it spirals from a crashing wave into a soon-to-be gushing waterfall. Yes, you've squirted before. But never with such a delightful buildup like this. And he knows you can take it, knows it's what you want as he coaches himself to hold off from his own finale. You let out a hearty moan, shaking at the overstimulation and feeling him twitch repeatedly inside. Almost as if his dick itself is begging for your release so it can do the same.

Your body listens and obeys, utterly charmed by your best friend's cock. Not like that would change the impending fate bound to happen anyway. Your cunt expels him out with a spray that splashes against his abs and drips down his thighs. Chan swears and grabs his length that bobs in the air upon being freed, fingers holding the condom tightly at the base like a makeshift cock ring. 

Furiously jerking off just a little bit to reach completion and then he's emptying what feels like a life's worth into the poor condom that can barely contain it. Unlike your pussy that would take it all if given the chance. It inflates, ballooning out and filling up with so much cum it's threatening to pop. As if it wasn't working overtime, straining around the sheer size of his cock.

It's so full and heavy, gravity weighing it down to flop against your folds that squirt out a tiny bit more upon contact that has your legs seizing. Your lower body — now growing numb — was somehow still sustained by Chan's insane one-arm strength until he flops onto you. Bringing you both down onto the wet mess on the bed.

"Get off, you're heavy," you grouch though a dumb smile lights up your blissed-out face.

He laughs breathlessly and rolls onto his side, bringing you into his arms and looking at you with stars in his eyes. You nuzzle into his neck, inhaling his comforting scent you never want to be without now that you've been fully encompassed by it in such an intimate manner. So you wait, feeling the way your hearts both beat rapidly and he takes a deep breath. Chest expanding as his lungs fill with much-needed air after so much exertion. 

Anticipation brims from the crown of your head to the tip of your toes when Chan finally asks, "Hey, do you still think size doesn't matter?"

You blink. Once. Twice. Thrice. Definitely not the question you were expecting.

There's a lively spark still dancing in his tired eyes and you match it with a playful smile. "I'm not really sure, I think you'll have to prove it to me a few more times."

"Suppose there's still a lot of condoms we can't let go to waste."

"Aw, you don't want me to make you some balloon animals?"

"That offer is tempting but…" Sneaky hands tickle the swell below your breasts and you giggle, half-heartedly batting him away. "Not as much as you are."

"And you know… there's still a lot of chances to confirm some things while we test out whose theory is right."

"Confirm what, my dear? 'Cause I'm pretty sure I've already staked my claim on what's mine." It's embarrassing how easily Chan can read you, a know-it-all smirk on his face as he cups your warm cheek oh-so-lovingly. "My slutty bestie's the only one who can take my cock like a champ, there's no way I'm letting you go now."

It's even more embarrassing that your heart and sore hole flutter at crude words that totally shouldn't make you feel like a silly fool in love. But because you are, it only makes you fall harder.

"So, you're mine now too?"

"If that's okay with you."

And of course, it's okay with you, you verbally affirm. Feeling his smile against your own when he leans in to kiss you. You'll confirm later that size really doesn't matter.  After all, you just happen to be lucky that your bestie-now-turned-boyfriend has a huge cock to complement the equally huge amount of love he has stored for you in his heart.

onlyseokmins: June 2023 ©

[confettiibunny]

ᴄʟɪɴɢʏ ʙᴀʙᴇ ㅤ༉‧₊˚.

jing yuan x fem!reader ۶ৎ cw :: body horror?? mentions of human anatomy idk how to explain it 😭, eventual smut, piv sex, creampie, overstimulation, husband!jing yuan bcs yes :3

۶ৎ note :: probably ooc but this is self indulgent im sorry ><

──── ୨୧ ──── ₊⊹ ──── ୨୧ ────

Jing Yuan has always kept others at a distance in all the ways one can think of. There are simply some doors not meant to open, walls a person doesn't tear down. Sentiments and old emotions die with people and it’s best not to dig up old graves, instead wrapping oneself in stable loneliness. But you. Damn you for completely tearing down his defenses, snapping his ribs off, and peacefully burrowing yourself right in the space you’ve created next to his heart with a dollish grin.

There’s something about your voice, your body, you as a whole that invites such a sweet vulnerability in him; so lethal as it peels his flesh away and seeps into his bones. You’ve lulled him into a fairytale narrative of love, of human connection, and he’s drunk off the way it makes him feel.

There’s not a moment where he’s not on you like a fussy child when it’s just the two of you within the confines of your home, far away from prying eyes. There’s no shame in Jing Yuan as he follows you everywhere, from the kitchen to the living room and even the bathroom. As for you, you brought this ailment, (reassurance for Jing Yuan to express his love openly) upon yourself so now you’ve simply learned to deal with it.

As you cook dinner his arms are snug around your waist, face buried in the crook of your neck and his hair pooling down your shoulder. If you try bathing by yourself he’s definitely hopping in with you, teasingly plopping suds in your hair as you recline against his body. Of course, Jing Yuan will respect your wishes if you want to be alone. But you can just feel how dejected he gets even if his poker face is calm, like a kitten kicked to the curb. Never mind and get over here, you always say as you open your arms for him.

And when it comes to matters of making love his grip can be so firm it’s almost painful, lilacs bruises coming to blossom in a most passionate fashion. His whole body just engulfs you as he lays his entire weight upon your frame, breaths mingling and your scent filling the air.

Despite the iron grip that his hand presses against your wrists above your head, every languid thrust of his lips leaves you breathless and buzzing with intense pleasure; your body slack against the mattress as you take what he gives and sate his all-consuming need for closeness. Your lips on his is like honey, tongue probing into your warm mouth as shameless moans escape his lips.

The fuzzy little tuff of his happy trail tickles your pelvis with every rut into your weeping cunt, overstimulated into a dripping mess that soaks the bed sheets under you. With his cock buried deep against your cervix all Jing Yuan can think about is how connected he is with you and breeding you, cummimg in you again and again until you’re crying for him to stop. In your shared bed he is no Arbiter-General or Divine Foresight. There is no revered man of the Luofu that everyone looks up to but simply your husband, all yoursyoursyoursyours forever and he makes this well-engraved with every time your legs shake when he makes you cum.

Because one orgasm isn't enough, not two or three even. How could he possibly stop himself from spilling into your heat when your cunt walls flutter around him so perfectly? How could he not drag another trembling climax out of your limp body when you whimper so beautifully into his mouth? His pace turns sloppy as that ever so familiar coil at his gut starts to stir and his mouth tears away from yours, pressing his lips against your eyes and cheeks and nose and every inch of your face. His hand is holding your words too tight, you’ll know you’re going to bruise, but you’re just too in ecstasy to care and the pain melts to twisted pleasure.

“Close, close, so close just stay with me please baby, want you need you love you-” a sharp gasp and he’s gone, forcing his face into the crook of your neck as he shudders from the intensity of his orgasm. A few more shallow thrusts and you follow in his wake, broken sobs racking your frame and your mind so frazzled by the sheer amount of pleasure running through your nerves. And yet, Jing Yuan’s body stays firmly snuggled on top of yours and honestly you're just too spent to protest. The last thing you see before your vision dims is his lips as he leans in for another open-mouthed kiss, loud pants clouding your hearing as you slip out of consciousness. Insatiable and clingy, you think. How troublingly cute.

──── ୨୧ ──── ₊⊹ ──── ୨୧ ────

“Sweetness?”

“Hmm?”

“Am I too clingy?”

As rude as it may seem, you can’t help but to giggle at your husband’s silly question. Even now after stuffing you full of cum, he stays firmly curled up as he spoons you from behind. Deft fingers of his play with your puffy pussy between closed thighs, droplets of white smeared on his fingertips.

You sigh and press your back more firmly against his chest for some more warmth, humming as one of his arms pulls you in tight. The stimulation he provides from his idle fingers barely affects you anymore, your body too spent to feel anything more than a few jolts running through your nerves.

“Honestly…nope. I like my men clingy.” Your giggles are like sugar-spun sweetness when they reach Jing Yuan’s ears and he preens into you, laying soft kisses all over your neck. Muffled little love you’s and stay with me’s can be heard and you can’t help but to fall a little more in love with his vulnerable side. An affectionate shadow is what you have, feeling his warmth radiate off his body and soothe you back into another gentle rest.

[mikamuse]

2:13 AM — GOJO SATORU

it’s not like you wanted to be like this.

constantly coming to satoru for comfort. it’s not like you want to be crying in your bed, currently trying to keep your sobs quiet as not to alert satoru, who is in the other room, to your plight. he had other bigger things to deal with that didn’t include comforting you after having a bad day. you wouldn’t even call it a bad day. it was just a few unfortunate incidents that happened through out the day.

things that are minor compared to the strongest having to deal with curses, training his students, etc. it’s not like he would get annoyed at you. satoru would drop everyone and everything in an instant if you called. if it were someone else, he would’ve laughed but with you—he wrapped you up in his arms, smother you in kisses, and ask you what happened.

he’d do anything to cheer you up. to see that smile that he adored. the shy little smile you would give him while attempting to evade his kisses. he’d tell you some stupid joke to get you laugh. satoru adores your laugh. he adores the way your eyes crinkle. he adores the sound of your laughter. if you didn’t want to talk, he’d just hold you until you were ready to talk.

the sound of your muffled cries drowned out the sound of your bedroom door opening and closing. you don’t notice his presence in your room until you feel the bed dip. a hand gently turns you towards him.

“what’s the matter, sweetheart?” a soft voice calls out. you sniffle as you try to turn away from him. you didn’t want him to see you like this. it’s stupid to cry over these things. satoru frowns—cupping your chin turning your head towards him, “hey what’s wrong? someone bully you? you accidentally hurt yourself again?”

you shake you head at him, “‘s nothing.” he tilts his head at you, giving you look that said, ‘is it really nothing?’ it really was nothing compared to the shit he deals with on a daily basis.

“alright, c’mere” he sighs before leaning over you, wrapping an arm around your waist, “you don’t have to hide in here, ya know? you could always come to me. i love holding you—with and without a reason to.”

“i’d rather not bother you with minors issues…” you mumble, tracing shapes into his arm. satoru looks down at you, shock written on his face.

“minor issues?! baby if it’s upsetting you, i’d say it’s a major one! come on, lay it on me! it’s nothing i can’t handle, i am the strongest for a reason.” he winks.

“it was just a few mishap that just kept pilling up all day… it’s nothing really, satoru” you pout, looking away. “‘s not really a big deal.”

“it is too me!” satoru whines. “i don’t like it when you’re upset. it makes me upset!”

the sight of his pout makes you laugh a little. he smiles when he hears your laugh.

“there it is. that laugh that i love so much!” satoru brushing his hands against your sides forcing another laugh out of you. “feelin’ better now?”

“hmm a little… maybe a kiss would me me feel even better…” he grins before swooping down to press a kiss to your forehead, to the corner of your eyes, to your nose, and finally to your waiting lips, whispering an ‘i love you’ in between pecks.

this is very self-indulgent bc it been a rough few days 😞 i just wanna be wrapped up in his big, beefy arms and kissed by him 24/7 <333 i miss you pookie 💔

©️MIKAMUSE

[lixie-phoria]

ੈ✩‧ ➛ best friend!hyunjin gets jealous of this new boy you've been talking a little too much about

pairing : best friend!hyunjin x gn reader

prompt : hyunjin can't help but get jealous of the new boy you seem to be infatuated with lately, hating the ugly feeling that burned through his chest everytime you said his name. he wishes he had realized sooner that he had absolutely nothing to worry about, because this new boy was, in fact, only fictional.

genre : fluff, little bit of angst bc hyunjin is jealous :(

word count : 707 words

an : extremely self indulgent haha

hyunjin was in love with you. everybody knew it; his friends knew, your friends knew, even the people in your university that he had never spoken to before knew about it. everyone seemed to know except for you.

but the boy could never confess. everytime he came close to, something always seemed to come in the way. this time it was another boy.

he first heard the name rindou when the two of you were out with a group of friends. he noticed how your phone's screen lit up and the girl sitting right beside you burst into a fit of giggles when she noticed your lockscreen. you switched off your phone before he could catch a glimpse of it himself, but he did hear the faint teasing of your friend. "i know you like rindou, but so much that he's already your lockscreen?"

hyunjin's heart dropped when he noticed the slight blush on your cheeks as you told her to shut up.

he was heartbroken. partly because you were best friends and you apparently didn't feel comfortable enough sharing about this new boy with him, and partly because here he had been pining over you for years and now you were suddenly interested in someone else?

hyunjin wanted to cry. what did rindou have that he did not? heck, he didn't even know who this boy was. he'd asked everyone around campus and there was no rindou who studied there. was it someone you met online? maybe on a dating app?

hyunjin's first impulse was to distance himself from you. it drove him mad, not seeing you for days and hearing the disappointment in your voice everytime he called off a plan.

but it was for the best, right? wrong. he couldn't have been more wrong.

the first time he saw you after an entire week was at a party, and his heart hurt when he saw the smile he loved so much take over your face when you saw him.

you rushed forward, throwing yourself in his arms. hyunjin wanted to wrap his own arms around you and breathe in your scent that he had missed so much and just never let you go. but he pulled away anyways, ignoring the hurt that flashed across your face.

"don't get too close. we don't want your boyfriend getting jealous, do we?"

he didn't meant to sound so crass, but it slipped out and there was nothing he could do about it as you blinked at him blankly. once. then twice.

"what?"

he scoffed. so first you kept rindou a secret from him and then you were going to play dumb? did you think hyunjin was that stupid?

"rindou. the guy who's your new lockscreen. aren't you with him?"

hyunjin was confused as your expression slowly morphed into a horror struck one.

"is that what you're salty about?" you asked incredulously.

"well, of course i'm a bit hurt you didn't tell me about him. i would be happy for you, you know, if you really liked him."

the poor boy was so confused when you burst into a fit of laughter, clutching at his arm for support.

"you mean that rindou?" was all you could manage between gasps as he stared at you with increasing confusion.

what was so funny?

"jinnie, no," you said, shaking your head. "rindou is a fictional character. he doesn't exist. he's from a manga i'm reading"

oh.

hyunjin felt heat rise up his face as he hastily freed his arm from your grasp, turning away from you so you wouldn't notice his increasingly embarrassed expression. rindou was fictional?

gods, hyunjin felt so stupid. all this for a boy who doesn't even exist?

"hyunjin, look at me."

he ignored you, letting out a huff as you tried to control the laughter that threatened to bubble out again.

"jinnie, please?"

"stop calling me that."

"but that's the only way you'll listen to me."

the two of you seemed to have forgotten the party raging around you.

"this is so embarrassing. please leave me alone."

"were you jealous?"

his silence spoke volumes and he heard you huff softly.

"jinnie, turn around, please?"

"so you can laugh at me more?"

"no, you dumbass, so i can kiss some sense into you."

©lixie-phoria, 2023

🏷️ @foxinnie8 , @hamburgers101 , @starlostlaiba (send an ask to be added/removed from the taglist :))

[milkpup]

｡⋆ʚ♡ a bitch meant for breeding

›› nsfw 18+ jjk oneshot!

art by the amazing @g00miato !!!!!!! literally my fave artist (uncensored is on her twitter and it's wowza holy moly)

FULL SPICY UNCENSORED VER IS ON @g00miato twitter! i am BEGGING u to look!!!

ʚ ao3 ɞ / ʚ kofi ɞ / ʚ fic masterlist ɞ

›› zenin naoya x y/n ›› 18+ f!reader ›› wc: 3,207

‹𝟹 summary: you’re naoya’s wife, and he’s determined to treat you like the pet he believes you are. he takes your sex life up a notch, showing you how he really feels about you:3

‹𝟹 fandom: jjk, jujutsu kaisen

‹𝟹 genres / warnings: petplay, assault / impact play

‹𝟹 tags: au- no powers, spit kink, spitting, breeding, degradation, name calling, pet play, puppy play, light praise, slapping, spanking, choking, rough sex, misogyny, owner / pet dynamic, leash + collar, naoya has a big dick, light biting, light blood, cum swallowing, rough fingering, finger fucking, orgasm denial + delay, throat fucking, mating press, doggy style, missionary

‹𝟹 notes: typically i see naoya more as someone to be subby (bc i wanna put him in his place). but one of my fave artists posted the pic above + the uncensored one, and i went fkn FERAL. like i would be naoya’s dog frfr. i wanna be his pet frfr. this is completely self-indulgent and pure smut. enjoy the ride:3 i made naoya a bit mean, but ultimately i made him a lil nice at the end. my fic and i want nice naoya rn >:(((( (even tho we all know hes a certified misogynist lolol)

!! - again, PLEASE READ TAGS BEFORE CONTINUING - !!

! - ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+ - !

The Zenin clan was known for its harsh treatment towards the women of the clan. They don’t allow them to educate themselves and they are forced in domestic roles and used to make children. While it gives the woman’s family a good reputation to marry into the Zenin clan, her life usually got worse as a result.

Marrying Naoya Zenin was no exception to this rule; if anything, it was actually worse in comparison. As much as Naoya makes your blood boil, he makes your pussy drip even more. You can’t stand to be around him. His personality is insufferable and he’s a misogynistic asshole, just like everyone else in this hellscape of a family. And despite this, he knows exactly how to pleasure you in ways you never thought you’d be into.

It started out as normal, vanilla sex even before you two were officially married. He never tried anything too crazy, just using your body like he owned you, but never taking it anywhere. Over time, you put up less resistance when he told you to do things for him. While it pissed you off sometimes to be his basically his servant, he always rewarded you in the end and you couldn’t deny how amazing it was every time.

One night, after he had been out late drinking with buddies, he comes home with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. You greet him at the door, taking care of his coat and belongings. He’s looking at you like a predator. He scoops you up, trailing kisses from your chin to your lips. Naoya bites your bottom lip slightly, drawing a hint of blood as he pushes his tongue into your mouth, meeting yours. He’s tasting every part of your mouth as he carries you to your room.

Despite his drunkenness, his coordination when tossing you onto the bed was surprisingly swift. He pushed you against the bed with such animosity it was like something had possessed him. He starts nipping at your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and spit along your jawline before meeting your lips once more. He twirled his tongue around yours, sucking every part he could. He pulled his lips away from yours, a string of spit connecting you two. “Open,” he commanded. And you did just that. You opened your mouth as he spit into it, telling you to swallow it after.

He watched with satisfaction at your instant submission. You were like his pet. And he wanted you to know that. He kissed you once more before pulling apart and walking over to a drawer, opening it and pulling out a leash and a collar. You were only slightly able to make out his figure, his form quite hazy in the darkness of the room, but you could hear the jingle and clank of the collar.

He walked up to you, a hand offering the collar to you. He had it engraved with your name beforehand, saving this for the right moment. “Will you be a good bitch for me, ____?”

You were looking up at him, eyes wide with a blush creeping across your face. You nod, squeaking out a quiet “Yes sir” in response to his question.

Naoya grinned as he reached to buckle the collar around your neck. “Good girl. Such a good little puppy for me, huh? I’m honestly a little surprised you raised no objections. Such a dumb little puppy, aren’t you?” He buckled the collar and moved his hand to your cheek and caressed you softly right before he pulls his hand away and slaps your face.

You gasp at the impact, looking up at Naoya with a mixture of fear and arousal. His hand snakes its way up the side of your face, before resting on the crown of your head and gripping you by a fistful of hair. He gently tugs your head to meet his, kissing you once more. “Be a good girl for me and I’ll make it worth it, okay?” He says as he pulls back, hooking the leash to the collar recently buckled around your neck. You only nod up at him, eyes saying everything you can’t with your mouth.

He rubs your head a bit, praising you. “Good pup.” You blush at the pet name, feeling heat spread in your body. “Take my clothes off, sweetheart. Be a good bitch and prep me after too, yeah?” He finishes by tugging your head slightly, just enough to add some pressure.

Your hands meet his waistline first. You tug at the drawstring of his sweats, pulling them off. His briefs follow suit, exposing his thick cock. You never would have guessed when you first met him, but he had a piercing going through the tip of his cock. It always added an extra sensation, and it was interesting to look at. You always wondered how painful it must have been.

Naoya’s cock bounces out of his sweats, precum already leaking from the swollen, angry looking tip.  He’s looking down at you, expectantly. You don’t immediately budge, and so Naoya pulls on the leash attached to your collar, pulling you up to meet his cock. “Suck it, slut.” He commands as he’s tugging your head closer and closer.

You meet the tip of his cock, kissing it lightly, trying to be cute. Naoya grunts, pushing your lips open with his thumb and forcing his cock into your mouth. You barely have time to prepare yourself before Naoya is shoving his thick cock down your throat, still tugging at the leash and bringing you even closer into him. Your hands are trying to push away as his cock is pushed deep into your throat, cutting off your air. You can barely breathe through your nose as you struggle to push against him, but this only makes Naoya snaked a hand through your hair and push your head against his cock even more. “I know you can handle it, whore. I thought you’d be a good girl for me, so why are you resisting?” He taunts as he fucks into your throat causing drool to drip from your lips down your chin.

Tears were forming at your eyes as you look up to see Naoya fully immersed in his pleasure, head thrown back as he throat fucks you. He can see the tears starting to form at your eyes, only serving to turn him on more in a sick, sadistic sense of pride. He releases his grip from you momentarily, allowing you to catch your breath for only a few mere moments before resuming his rough abuse of your throat.

He picks up speed, not allowing you to get used to his erratic rhythm as you feel his cock start to twitch, warning you of what’s to come. You don’t really like swallowing, not that Naoya gives a fuck whether you do or not. Naoya does as he pleases. And right now, he would enjoy watching you swallow his cum. He likes the idea of fucking his cum down your throat, but he wants to watch you swallow it instead. Thus, he warns you before he’s about to cum and pulls out. “Open wide for me, pup. Time for your milk~” He purrs as he strokes his thick cock, shooting thick ropes of cum into your mouth.

The taste is horrible, and there’s so much it’s spilling out your mouth, just how Naoya wants you. “Swallow it, slut. Drink it like the good girl you are.” You swallow everything before opening your mouth and showing Naoya. He praises you, before bending down and spitting into your mouth following it with a sloppy kiss. He pulls away before pushing you onto your back on the bed. He pulls your top off first, watching the way your tits bounce when the shirt comes off. He trails kisses down your abdomen before reaching the waistband your pants. He tugs at it with a finger before completely pulling them off, leaving your panties on.

Naoya pushes your legs apart before positioning himself between them. He spits on one of his fingers as his other hand meets your clothed cunt, before pulling the panties to the side. His other finger rubs your slit, feeling how utterly soaked you are from just being teased and facefucked. His long, slender finger slides over your hole before making its way up to your clit, rubbing small circles around it. Naoya can hear your pathetic attempts at stifling your moans like you’re embarrassed, and he makes it one of his goals to make you louder. He wants everyone to hear what a dirty whore you are.

His finger makes it way back to your tight hole, slipping itself inside the wet and warm entrance. Naoya feels you immediately clench at the intrusion, hearing your cute moans as a result. “Good girl, let me hear how much you love me doing this yeah?” He encourages you as he pushes his finger all the way in, before immediately pulling it out and fucking you with it all over again. He wastes no time in adding another finger, trying to stretch your tight cunt open as much as he could. His fingers are drilling into you, making lewd wet slapping noises that fill the quiet room. Your soft moans betray how aroused you are.

Naoya pulls out to your chagrin, before rolling you over onto your tummy across his lap. He spreads your legs open once again before forcing his fingers back into your needy hole. You yelp out in surprise as his fingers slip inside, scissoring themselves and spreading you open. Naoya uses his other hand to spread your ass open, giving him a close up view of your weeping hole taking only 2 of his fingers and already struggling. “You’re taking it like such a good slut, yeah? You want me to stretch you out after?” He asks, feeling you clench around his fingers the moment he finishes his question. He laughs a bit. “I guess that’s your response, huh pup?”

It's that damn pet name again. You moan he lifts his hand to slap your ass. Naoya does not hold back in the slightest, repeating his slaps until he’s satisfied with the redness spreading across your ass. He pushes in another finger, this time feeling your stretch cunt at its limit. He pulls your body up into a sort of doggy position, you on your knees face down onto the bed. His fingers are slamming into your cunt, your juices dripping onto his hand and wrist then onto the bed.

Naoya bends down beside you, purring into your ear. “You’re such a good whore, aren’t you?” Your cunt clenches in response to his praise-degradation and he chuckles beside you. “I love bitches who make messes so easily, and you’re just like that. I bet you’re already close just from me fucking your tight cunt with my fingers.” He smirks at his taunt. You’re moaning into the bed, drool spilling from the sides of your mouth as his fingers continue their relentless assault on your cunt. He brings his other hand to your clit, thumb circling the sensitive nub as he brings you one step closer. Naoya was right, you were close, and he could tell just from your body how desperate you were to cum and make a mess right in front of him.

“You gonna cum, baby? Gonna make a mess for me, yeah?” You could only whine into the bedsheets, face pressed against the mattress as you felt Naoya bringing you ever so closer to your release. His thumb pressed harder onto your clit, rubbing it with more intensity as his other three fingers fucked into you with ferocity. You were drooling all over the sheet as you whined, feeling yourself tighten up around Naoya’s fingers as you feel that knot in your stomach start to snap—

And then Naoya pulls away both his hands, right as he felt you about to be pushed over the edge. You lift your head up, whining as you pout and look at him. He has the cheekiest grin plastered on his face as he brings his fingers to his mouth and cleans your juices off them. “Sorry, pup, but you don’t cum until I tell you to. Got that?” Your pitiful whines come out as a response, still squirming under Naoya at the loss of touch.

You softly squeak out, “Yes sir.” In response to Naoya’s question. You would do anything for him in this moment if it meant he would let you cum all over him. Literally anything. You would bark for him if he asked; he probably would like it given the puppy stuff anyways. Fuck, you’d even do tricks for him if he really wanted to, anything if it meant he praised you and helped you cum.

Naoya smiled even wider, setting a hand on your head and petting you. “Good girl,” he coos. You feel your heart melt and your pussy throb at the praise. He’s making it painfully slow for you, taking his time before he’s going to touch you again.  He pushes your face back into the mattress, scooting your ass closer to him in the process.

Naoya parts your thighs ever so slightly, giving him better access to your sloppy cunt. He lines his thick cock against your hole, pushing his pierced head in ever so slightly. Even with his three fingers fucking your cunt and spreading it out, his cock was still a tight fit for you. He grips your hips with his firm hands as he pushes into you in one sadistic push, bottoming out into your tight cunt. You yelp out in pain as he slams his thick cock into you, feeling every ridge, vein, and especially his fucking piercing. You didn’t think it would feel extra good, but it’s an added sensation that you can’t get from anything else, and it feels fucking amazing.

You moan against the bedsheets loud enough for Naoya to hear as he pulls his cock out and slams it back in. “Fuck, ____, your cunt is so tight. It’s like it’s made just for me, yeah? A hole meant for me to breed, isn’t it? You’re just a bitch meant for breeding, aren’t you?” Naoya asks as he roughly spanks your ass in tandem with his thrusts. “Answer me, pup, what are you?” Naoya demands an answer as he hardly tugs at the leash, pulling you up against him.

The collar is pushing against your airway as he tugs at the leash supporting your weight. Because of this, you can barely choke out the words he was expecting to hear from you. “I’m a bitch… meant for breeding...” You sputter out as his thrusts increase in velocity and force. You moan against him as he pulls your body fully against his, fucking into you from behind.

“Good girl,” Naoya coos  as he places a gentle kiss on your neck before biting down hard in the same spot. He draws a bit of blood, licking the area clean and kissing it once more before he lets go of you and pushes you onto the bed again.

Without breaking contact between you two, Naoya expertly flips you onto your back. He never stops his rhythm fucking into your abused cunt while moving your legs. He fucks you a bit in a missionary position, looking down into you as tears are forming at your eyes. “Fuck, Naoya, it feels sho fucking good~!!!” You slur your words out as you look into your eyes, his thick cock never relenting. You reach your arms around his neck as you pull him down to you into a quick kiss.

He pushes away from you, but not before gently biting on your lip first. He pulls his cock out momentarily as he places both your legs onto his shoulders. He pushes his body fully into yours, trying to feel every inch of your body. He slams his cock back into your messy hole as you moan into him. You can feel his warm breath as he trails kisses from your jawline to your neck, biting you in almost the same spot as before. The sharp pain only adds a distinct sensation that enhances your pleasure.

You can feel the knot building in your stomach again, threatening to snap at any moment. “Naoya, m gonna—m gonna cum, soon!!!” You stumble out your words, trying to warn him in advance so this time he can reward you.

Naoya grins and fucks into you harder, drilling his thick cock into your tight cunt. “Good slut, cum for your owner, bitch. I own you and this cunt, don’t I?” He taunts you as his cock hits your g-spot, hitting that bundle of nerves in such a way that has you seeing stars.

“Th-thank you!! Yesh, yesss you own me Naoya!!! I wanna be your dumb pet pleaseee imgonnacum im gonna cum!!!” Your words are stumbling out now, unable to control any of them as you feel the knot in your stomach break and you get not pushed over the edge, but metaphorically kicked into your orgasm. It feels like you’re crashing into the pleasure that is Naoya’s cock as you basically scream, feeling yourself squirt and make a mess around Naoya’s cock and the bed.

He reaches a hand to grip around your throat, cutting off your loud proclamations of pleasure. “Be quiet, bitch” He spits his words out as he rams into your cunt. You can feel his cock twitch and release his thick load, grunting as he fills your womb to the brim with his cum. His grip around your throat releases as he pushes himself off of you, pulling his cock out. Some of the cum overflows from your cunt, dripping out of your hole. He reaches a finger down, lapping up some with his finger and pushing it back inside, placing your panties back in the same position as before.

“Don’t let any spill out. You’re my bitch that’s meant to be knocked up by me. I’m sure you’re so excited to be a mommy, aren’t you?” In your fucked out state, all you can do is nod in a stupor as you try to catch your breath.

Naoya lifts your head and props a small pillow behind it as he climbs to in front of you, cocking staring straight at you. “Be a good girl and clean me up, pup.” You look up at him with half-lidded eyes, still reeling from your mind shattering orgasm mere moments before. Naoya’s thumb opens your mouth as his cock meets your lips. You stick your tongue out, placing kisses on his cock and licking his cock clean.

Once he’s satisfied with your cleanup, he moves beside you and kisses you. He pulls away and looks into your eyes as he caresses your cheek. “I love you, ____. You’re such a good girl for me.” You look into him and grin, as he playfully smacks your cheek. He places a kiss over the slight red mark he leaves before getting up to gather clothes for you.

‹𝟹 notes: how this fic got me feeling:

but frfr this pic got me going crazy im like feral and unhinged. i rly am a monkey. i think geto suguru was on to smthn frfr. i see hot jjk men i start fucking hooting like a monkey, going crazy when i see their bananas frfr

- if u wanna be tagged in my works / updates, pls lmk :3c!

‹𝟹 notifs: @vvxxccaa @arylaa @starshipxoxo

ʚ join my notifs ɞ

(･ω･)つ divider creds to @/cafekitsune and @/eloquentreverie

[kentopedia]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ SHADES OF RED — nanami kento

summary . . . kento tries to move on, but he sees you in every shade of red

contents . . . ex-boyfriend nanami, nanami pov, f!reader, reader is only mentioned but she loves the color red, suggestive part at the end, kento has a new gf but :/ he wants you bad — 700 words

notes . . . erm this is so self indulgent btw ! everyone around me laughs at me for only getting my nails done the color red and this was born bc i got my nails done today. in my yearning!kento era ig <33 he can miss us instead of the other way around smh

kento had never considered himself a sentimental man.

he’d always had the keen ability to let go of things easily—or, at least, to let go of them without too much regret. he’d never been overly emotional about things that served as reminders to his past. kento could’ve passed his childhood home and, sure, he’d feel a twinge of nostalgia. but it was one that he’d get over once he was out of the neighborhood, on his way to something different, somewhere better.

perhaps, it was a lack of sentimentality, or perhaps his future orientation was just a mechanism to help him cope with the ever-changing thing he called life. 

too bad that approach never worked when it came to you. 

even after you broke up with him, kento saw you everywhere he went. four years together was too much time, and time wasn’t enough to wash away the smell of your perfume, the love letters you’d written that he’d shoved away. kento still had a few of your belongings you’d never come back for. pieces of jewelry you’d left behind, and he’d never been able to get rid of. 

your pretty red lipstick still stained the corner of his sofa, the tiny little smear where you’d accidentally dropped the tube.

you’d apologized, embarrassed, so flustered he thought you might cry. but he’d only laughed instead, pushed the cap back on, and kissed the lipstick right back off your face. 

it had been his fault anyways.

your golden bracelet still hung with his watches, interlaced with rubies and diamonds. an anniversary gift he’d gotten you, and one that you’d thrown at him angrily when you finally left him. 

there was a red ribbon in the center console of his car, one that he’d left there in case you ever forgot a hair tie. 

there were reminders of you everywhere, there was red everywhere. the color of the passion, and the color of the fiery love that had burned bright between you. 

he saw you everywhere…

even in his new girlfriend. 

the first time gojo met her, he told kento how much she looked like you. maybe a little bit taller, her hair a little bit different. her lips were wider, eyes a slightly different shade.

still, the similarities were striking. and she’d never know.

besides all of the red, kento had erased whatever traces of you he could find, kept them locked up in a pretty burgundy box that was tucked away in his closet. 

and maybe she was similar to you in appearance, but she was gentler, softer, and she had an affinity for shades of pink. a light rose color was her favorite.

she probably thought that it bothered him, the obvious sign of femininity taking over his apartment. but kento appreciated that the lacy ribbons she left lying around, the lingerie sets, were much lighter than the color you’d tended towards. 

“kento,” she interrupted his stream of thought, as he stared at the splotch of maroon on his sofa, remembering how you’d stained his cheeks the same color.

he hummed. it’d been nearly six months since he’d seen you last. it’d seemed like longer. 

he shouldn’t miss you this much.

he did, though.

“i’m thinking of getting my nails done.” his new girlfriend—the one that looked like you but wasn’t you—stretched her hands out, looking at the chipped pastel pink at the end of her nails. half of the paint was gone. 

“okay,” he said, shrugging. shades of pink, she lived in. it’d be a shade of pink again.

she looked at her fingers, scrutinizing them like she wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. “i’m not sure it’d suit me, but… what do you think of red?” 

kento’s eyes had drifted over, and for a moment, he contemplated a protest. it didn’t suit her. she was a gentle, sweet soul. her voice soft, words loving—she was pink.

then, he remembered the softness of your palm over his thigh, your fingers threaded in his hair. nails longer, filed perfectly, a beautiful red color painted onto them. 

he missed you.

he felt guilty for his answer.

“sure, honey,” kento said, smiling. “that’s pretty.” 

when she came home later, kento had pulled her into the bedroom, turned off the lights, the room dark already with the sun that had set. her hands were smaller than yours, fingers more slender, but the color of her nails was the same. 

he could imagine your hands between his legs, stroking him lovingly. and kento had to seal his lips tightly to keep your name from spilling from them when he imagined you instead of her.

“mmm,” his new girlfriend had muttered, snuggling into his side. kento stared at the ceiling, sick with longing. “i love you. night, kento.” 

he didn’t answer.

when she was asleep, kento climbed out of bed, padded to the kitchen with his phone in his hand. it was past midnight, but you tended to stay up later, a book on your lap, with some form of red on the cover. 

his finger hovered over your name; there used to be a red heart next to it, and he wanted to put it back.

he wondered if this would just be another one of those times where his calls went unanswered. or, maybe, this time, you’d pick up. 

kento didn’t care anyway.

he pressed the call button.

[duckymcdoorknob]

Hi ducky can I please have an emergency request? can u write a story for a y/n who keeps her emotions in bc every time she tries to tell someone someone else complains about something.

and I think u started watching black clover so can u write it with luck and magna ? either together or separate is okey.

thank u 💔

Yes you sure can.

Bumping this one up bc I’m really feeling this hardcore rn

I may make this kinda self-indulgent with the issues y/n is facing???

My dms are open if you wanna vent! I’m here for you, anon. 💜💜💜💜

CW BELOW THE CUT: none.

Luck Voltia and Magna Swing

Things weren’t going too well for you, there’s no way to hide that fact.

From whatever it was, your day was poisoned by unhappiness, and you didn’t know what to do to aid it.

Of course, you refused to let any of the other bulls in on how you were feeling. It was especially difficult to keep Asta from pestering you; the kid is very attentive.

“Show. Never tell.” Is what you would tell yourself, forcing the feelings back into a tiny box.

You tried so hard to keep your face up as you walked through the base, but most days it was impossible to get anything besides a hopeless frown.

When asked how you were, you shrugged it off, merely explaining that you just have a “resting sad face”

Many believed you, nodding with an “ohh” while walking away.

But Magna we’re not buying into any of your nonsense. The two would exchange worried glances at your excuses.

When the team slowly gathered together in the living room after dinner, you were not doing great whatsoever. Your mood was sour, and you were barely focused on anything.

“Hey, everything alright?” Asta asked as he sat next to you. “You didn’t eat at dinner, and usually you have a great appetite.”

You sighed with a broken smile, “To be honest I’m-“

“Oh my god, Asta, did you see what Yami had me doing today? I didn’t get a break once! I’m so tired of being his wheels all the time,” Finral whined as he plopped down next to the anti-magic user.

To your dismay, everyone gathered around their senior to listen to his tale of woe, leaving you behind and ignored again.

You stand up and retreat to your bedroom, leaving without a single word.

You didn’t have much time alone before there was a gentle knocking on your door. “(Y/N)? Can we come in?” It was Luck’s voice…?

You didn’t reply, instead burying your head into your pillow. You heard their bickering through the door.

“Looks like we’re doing this the hard way-“

“Magna no! They didn’t give us permission to come in-“

“And what if something happened to them?? Would you rather us stand out here and do nothing when-“

“You need to respect their wishes!”

“You can come in,” you say stoically, not moving from your previous position.

The door opens slowly, revealing the two bulls.

“Hey, careful doing that,” Magna quickly made his way over to your bed, turning your head toward them. “You’ll suffocate if you don’t leave room for air.”

“Whatever…” you murmur, eyes glazed over.

“(N/N),” Luck begins, “Are you okay?”

You sit upright to greet them “Yeah I’m-“

“No, like actually okay,” he interrupts, moving to sit next to you.

There’s a solemn silence…

“Hey, (N/N), tell us what’s going on, kid,” Magna hums as he brushes a few stray hairs out of your face, sitting on your other side.

They wait with baited breath for your reply, worry evident in their eyes.

“I’m not okay… and I don’t know what to do,” you finally confess in a sotto-voce tone.

Both put a supportive hand on your back or shoulder, listening carefully.

“Everything is falling apart… and I-I’m not sure what to do. I’m usually g-good at fixing things but…” you laugh a bit in pitifulness, “I can’t even fix myself.”

“You don’t have to fix yourself; that’s why we’re here,” the mowhawked mage mutters, squeezing your shoulder gingerly.

“But what if I can’t be fixed? What if I have to live like this every day?”

“Nothing lasts forever,” Luck’s sweet voice chimes. “Time won’t stop whenever you feel sad, it will keep moving and you’ll be forced to feel better.”

“It feels so hopeless… nobody cares…” you whisper

“That’s not-“ he attempts.

“It is true. The moment Fin complained, everyone turned to listen to him instead. I don’t feel heard or respected… I don’t-“ tears start to fill your eyes “I feel so alone.”

“Hey,” Magna’s low voice sounds, “You are far from alone…” he wipes a falling tear with his thumb. “You have people who love you and are willing to support you every step of the way.”

“Yeah!” A quiet cheer of approval left the lightning mage. “You know how much we love you, and we would do anything for you to feel like yourself again.”

The flame mage gets in front of you, locking your eyes. “Tell us anything that’s on your mind… what’s making you feel like less than you are? Anything is fair game, don’t be afraid.”

You look around at their concerned faces once more, and suddenly everything falls apart. Your shoulders heave up and down as your body is wracked with the sobs you’ve been keeping hidden.

As you wail loudly, the two instantly move in to hug you. Magna cradles your head against his chest while Luck hugs around your torso and lays his head on your lap.

The two wordlessly cling onto you as you spill your tale of woe. Many—having heard your pained cries— attempt to check in multiple times. Magna shooed them instantly, shooting a death glare to anyone who tried to enter.

When you finally finished, you slumped downward, resting in their loving embrace. “Thank you…”

“Anytime, kid… anytime.” Magna whispered as he pats your shoulder.

When no response was given from the Cherry berserker, the two of you look down to notice that he had fallen asleep on your lap.

And for the first time that day, you started laughing.

—————♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎—————

[deartouya]

TIME OF YEAR — HAWKS

summary: the week following valentine's day, you start getting a gift a day. they're always sitting on your desk when you get in, never attached to any note, and always something that you'd like. then a certain pro-hero shows up at your door brandishing a bouquet.

pairing: hawks x gn!reader

wordcount: 1.4k

content: reader works in miruko's agency, fluff, stocked full of (very american) valentine's fluff and cliches, gift giving as a weird confession, best friend bakugou bc i can't help myself, mentions of food/eating.

happy valentine's day lovies !!! i barely finished this in time but ;-; it's done !! and i had to write something for keigo bc i love him dearly ;-; i hope you enjoy my self indulgence even if it's not my best work !

Working for Miruko's agency has been surprisingly mundane for a top hero agency. Spending your day filing reports and attempting to lessen the load of paperwork for her and the dozens of sidekicks she worked with. You'd grown fond of the routine, comfortable with your daily cafe runs and lunches spent working at your desk. It was nice, normal.

The past week has been weird, though.

It started with a rose. Soft and creamy maroon petals left in the center of your desk without a note or any hint of who had left it. You thought it'd been a mistake, someone mistaking your office for someone else's, but no one in the entire office building recognized or claimed it. So you found a dusty flower vase under your sink and kept it on the corner of your desk.

Next were blueberry muffins. You recognized the little white box from your favorite bakery the moment you saw it, the one nestled in a corner of the city which is almost always empty. Buttery and still warm when you finally willed yourself to open it. You couldn't help the warmth which filled your chest at the smell of them and you ate two of them for breakfast before starting your paperwork.

The rest of the week was filled with more gifts, all practical or catered perfectly to your own tastes; a pair of cashmere gloves a muted gray, a coffee from your favorite cafe just the way you ordered it, a shiny broach in the shape of two doves, a travel coffee mug not too much after your own finally worn out. Nothing that hinted at whoever's been leaving them for you.

 "Come on, Katsuki," you lament, folding yourself pathetically over your desk, "you're always at the office--you have to have seen them come to my office! And you're the only one who knows I go to that bakery every morning, you have to know!" He snorts, barely looking up from his own stack of reports to see the considerably large box of heart-shaped chocolates. The rich, fancy kind that if you ever had a craving for you would've had to save half your paychecks.

His eyes seem to get stuck on the ribbon holding it shut, on the sliver of something soft and red poking out. You pluck it out, expecting a sticky note or card--anything but a feather the size of your index finger.

"Is this supposed to be a hint?" Katsuki only stares blankly at you, something akin to amusement warming the red of his eyes as your annoyance mounts, "do they have a pet bird? I don't think I know anyone with a parrot--except for that one guy from tech but his is blue."

Katsuki rolls his eyes, dropping his pen and shoving his chair away from his desk, “and why would he leave a hint? If he wanted you to know who he was he wouldla left a fuckin’ note on one of of ‘em.”

“I don’t know! I’m tired of not knowing,” you collapse back into your chair to stare forlornly at the ceiling, “no one in the building will admit to leaving them and we both know that they’re awful liars.” You’d tracked down nearly everyone who worked on your floor to ask about the gifts, even cornering an extremely nervous Midoriya in the elevator on your way home. None of them admitted to it. And none of them paid nearly enough attention to know where you bought your muffins or coffees from. 

“You’re overthinking.” 

You huffed, arms crossed over your chest as Katsuki returned to his paperwork. “I just don’t know who’s doing it, no one’s seemed nervous around me and I haven’t gone on a date in months.”

“Might make you less stressed,” Katsuki snips, a flash of canines when you chuck your now emptied coffee cup at his head—which he blocks easily with a laugh. 

“I’m serious, Katsuki. I’ve never had someone all that interested in me—let alone this interested. I just want to figure out who it is.”

He softens just a little, sighing and dropping the empty cup in the bin beside him. You know you’re being childish, pestering him all week over something as trivial as a potential secret admirer when you both have stacks of paperwork and endless reports.

“I’m sure you’ll find out soon.” That look’s back, something passing slowly over his face—like he’s considering his words carefully, hiding what he knows, “Valentine's day’s tomorrow—maybe he’ll show up then.”

You don’t notice anything weird until you get to your office. Oblivious with the expectant stares of your co-workers, the raptness in which they watch you hurry to your office, the way they all look at eachother. Until you’re confronted with an incredibly familiar and out of place set of eyes, “Hawks!”

He starts at the sound of your voice despite facing the door, fingers tightening around a bouquet of budding peonies and wings ruffled and restless behind him. He looks out of place in your office—large and imposing, standing awkwardly in front of your desk and feathers twitching behind him.

Pictures could never do Hawks justice. He’s always prettier, brighter—the warmth of his hair and the flush of freckles across his nose—in person. He’s larger than life, all wide smiles and crimson wings, and no amount of photographers can capture all of him as he is. Breathtaking. But now, he looks nearly skittish.

Hawks smiles at you then—nervous and disarmingly ill-practiced for someone whose job is half made up of practiced smiles—and brings the bouquet just a little closer to his chest. “I saw these while I was on patrol… it’s that time of year, isn’t it?” His voice is quiet, something soft and tender that makes you feel warm all over.

Everything hits you very suddenly—the feather, the knowing way Katsuki had behaved when questioned, every pricey gift that had been left. Hawks visited the agency all the time, visited you in your office and had taken you for coffee at the very cafe your gift came from. He’d also put the final nail in your travel mug’s coffin, knocking it off the edge of your desk the last time he’d visited you with a teasing feather. Of course it’d been him.

“You left the gifts. You’re my secret admirer,” you say dumbly, sounding quiet and childish even to yourself. 

But Hawks flushes, chin tucking into the plushness of his collar and failing to hide his wide and boyish grin, “I did—I am.” His hand—noticeably bare and warm—cups your own, transferring the bouquet of soft pinks and reds to you. “And these made me think of you when I saw them in the shop—you said peonies were your favorites.”

You flounder under the weight of his grin, the sweetness of flowers, the heady smell of his cologne, and the crispness of wind which always surrounds him. You’ve never been this close to him, always had a buffer in the form of mutual friend or coworker to soften the interaction. It’s overwhelming to be this close knowing he likes you. Knowing he pays such attention to you.

A swell of emotions overtakes you, grin so wide it aches and his own seems to mirror it. Hawks is warm, a slow gentle heat which seeps into you and melts against your skin from where his hands are skating up your arms. It’s dizzying and you find yourself leaning into him, overcome with the sudden urge to kiss him, to be even closer, to curl your hands into the softness of his collar and pull him into you.

But you don’t.

His wings twitch again behind him again, restless ruffling as he lifts a hand to rub at the nape of his neck. You track the movement with a smile—it’s oddly endearing to see him acting so human, so unlike everything you’re used to seeing of him. “Do you want to get dinner after patrol?” Golden eyes flick over your face, as if looking for any hesitance—discomfort. He doesn’t find any. “There’s this really good yakitori place down the street.”

“Sounds like a date, Kei.” His smile’s immediate, blindingly bright and so wide the corners of his eyes wrinkle.

“A date,” he echoes giddily, face flushed and smile half-concealed behind his hand.

[malfoyfarms]

Comfort

JJ Maybank x Pogue!Fem Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Smut

A/N: Okay this may be self indulgent bc I just had my heart broken by a boy. Also i’ve never written smut before, rip. Not proofread bc i’m working

It was a warm summer evening in the Outer Banks, and Y/n walked back to the Chateau quietly. In the summer she never walked slowly, let alone quietly. She tried to pack her summers with as much adventure as she could, no matter how sleep deprived she was. Her grandfather always said that she could sleep in the winter. 

The hole in her chest was growing, she felt heavy. Her mouth was dry, nose was running, and she kept looking up at the sky trying to make the tears go away. Stopping for a moment against a tree, she took a deep breath, “You were just fine without him, you are just fine without him.” 

Her friends always used to tease her that she was too much of a “lover girl,” falling a little bit in love with anyone, everyone she met. She just felt so stupid. Kiara had warned her about the boy that had mysteriously shown up one day and gave her the world. Sure it could have been the start of something wonderful, he was the original one to show interest, so that had to have meant something. 

By the time she had actually made it to the Chateau, she had swallowed her sadness. She put that award winning smile on, and was ready to be her normal self. Walking in, the girl threw her bag into her normal spot, and made her way toward the jetty. She passed out greetings and hugs and jokes as if she wasn’t just trying to get herself to breathe a few moments ago. 

The pogues could tell something was off. They could tell she had been upset by the way her eyes were glossed over. But Y/n was closed off, no amount of prying would get her to reveal what was going on inside. That’s just how she worked. John B tried to cheer her up by throwing her in the water, Sarah just offered her a small smile and a compliment on her swimsuit. One she was now going to donate because he had told her just how gorgeous she had looked in it. 

JJ offered her a Twisted Tea blueberry, her favorite, but she only took a few sips over the entire afternoon on the boat. She knew if she became intoxicated, there was no stopping the feelings, no covering up. 

“Lover girl, you headed out tonight?” John B asked as they started collecting money to buy pizza for dinner. 

“Uh, n-no actually. Here’s $10 for dinner,” she quietly pulled a ten out of her bag, and the others watched her silently. Y/n was always peeling out around this time, ready to experience some romantic rendez-vous with her beau. 

“I’m not letting you pay $10 when you’re gonna eat maybe a piece of pizza,” John B argued back.

“JB just take my money!” all eyes were on her, “It’s less y’all have to pay anyway.” 

To avoid any confrontation, she walked up to the house to get her sweatshirt. The air hadn’t changed, still as hot and sticky as before, but the girl knew without the protection from the hood of her sweatshirt everything would be too real. 

God, while the sweatshirt provided a small amount of comfort, it brought back more painful memories than it needed to. She could smell her perfume, one that he thought was just to die for, the chewed up aglet that he would constantly take out of her mouth and say “relax.” There were still no notifications on her lock screen. She kicked her backpack with all of her might. 

“Mama,” she slowly turned around. “Why are we kicking the living fuck out of our backpack.”

The smug look on her best friend’s face made her lip shake and tears come sprinting to the front of her eyes. JJ’s expression quickly changed when she started to come towards him with open arms. 

“I knew there was a reason you didn’t chug your Twea.” 

The girl quietly shook in his arms as he guided her to his room. “You’re allowed to cry, you know, I won’t tell anyone.” 

“No.” Her voice wavered. “I-I just want a distraction. Can you give me that?” From the way she was laying next to JJ, to the doe eyes, she was achieving exactly what she wanted. JJ pushed the hair out of her eyes, lingering his fingers just long enough on her jaw to indicate he was going to falter. And falter quickly. 

Y/n closed the distance between their faces. Her lips locked intently around his, becoming the dominant mouth. JJ pulled her back just long enough to wipe the tears from her eyes before kissing her back hungerly. 

Her hands wandered under his shirt and up his back, feeling every knot in his muscles, but settling on one right below his shoulder blade. Their lips stayed latched together as she began to massage the knot. JJ’s hands similarly mimicked her motions but he settled on her hips. His first two fingers found themselves tangled in the side strings of her bikini bottom, while his thumb and last two fingers found themselves squeezing her love handles. 

Small, breathy, almost inaudible moans escaped from her mouth as JJ guided her hips against his torso. His other hand buried itself in the nape of her neck, pulling her hair to force her chin up as he nipped and kissed at her neck. Her perfume made him absolutely and unequivocally feral. He hummed against her collar bone, feeling her body snap towards him. She was dying for friction. For contact. Anything to smother the weight in her chest. 

Never had he imagined when he volunteered to go talk to the pogue, he’d be up close and personal with her. 

His fingers untangled from the strings, and pulled leg up by the thigh. He gently ghosted his fingers over her most personal spot, feeling wetness and the small whimper against his neck. 

Y/n’s dainty hand guided his hand to touch her where she needed attention the most. He followed her advances and pushed the fabric to the sides. One quick swipe of his fingers to gauge her readiness and then he pushed two fingers in. She was rolling her hips and clenching around JJ’s fingers almost rhythmically, like he wasn’t going to give her what she wanted. He pressed on her clit, adding pressure to her.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong,” he questioned, pressing down heavily as he ended his question. A hiss slipped through her lips. “If you make me cum, I won’t have any.” 

Her hand stalked down JJ’s swim trunks, trying to determine how big he was. His penis became still and hard as her fingers circled the shaft. He bucked into her palm, looking for his own friction. After a few particularly hard presses on her clit, she began to let up on her hand job. Too immersed in chasing her own high.

JJ couldn’t remember the last time he had been this turned on, this quickly. He’d only been on solo missions recently, eyes always eyeing one specific prize. 

Finally finding the courage, JJ flipped her underneath him. While placing sloppy kisses on her collar bones, he ground his hips into her. Both letting out soft gasps from the pleasure of pseudo-sex. 

“JJ, please.” she mumbled. “Put him in. I need it.” She took it upon herself to untie the bikini bottoms, trying to quickly find the friction again. JJ nearly came at the girl’s begging. 

He then found himself ripping his trunks off at lightning speed. Y/n took his cock and lined it up with her entrance, teasing JJ with her slit. He waited for her nod, and then slid himself in. He let out a small breath at the feeling of her warm insides around him.

“J, move,” she begged. He began long, slow thrusts into the girl, trying to make every second count, trying to keep from finishing in her like it was his first time. JJ could immediately tell she needed more stimulation. He pulled out, and waited for her to open her eyes. 

“Turn around mama, lay on your stomach.” Doing as she was told, she opened her legs impatiently waiting for his re-entry. 

JJ did as he promised, sliding in with a faster pace. He slowly pulled her ass towards him, up in the air. He could feel her clenching. She was so close. JJ had her body mirroring his, her back flatly against his chest. His one hand played with her front as his other held her by the neck to his. 

“I’m s-so,” she squeaked. “So, close.” As she finished her sentence, her thighs shook, her walls clenched around his dick, and nails dug into his forearms. 

This lethal combination sent JJ spiraling, releasing his load into her before he could even think of pulling out. Her body went limp as JJ rode out the rest of his orgasm. 

As their bodies separated, he then spun her around to hold her close. Even with his cum dripping out of her, he wanted to make sure she was okay. 

“Are you okay?” He looked down at her, trying to avoid looking at the trail of each other down her legs. 

“No,” he panicked. Had he crossed a boundary? Broken something good in a weak moment? “You just started an addiction.” 

Relief flooded his body. “Good, because I’m not letting go anytime soon.”

[kirus-grotto]

Je t’aime

Malleus and Yuu sneak off from the Ball for a moment alone.

Just another fluffy self indulgent fic bc the current event was fun

Groups of people danced along to the music while Yuu made her way to a refreshment table. Dancing with Grim and the others for so long had left her parched. She could feel a figure suddenly beside her as she’d finished her drink; only to be a mix of surprise and discomfort as she turned to find it had been Rollo.

The gray haired mage had his arms crossed watching everyone. He turned his eyes to meet hers once he noticed her stare. “Would you… care to dance?” he asked a tad awkwardly. “Though I’m sure you’d rather not.”

Yuu felt an eyebrow twitch in annoyance. “...Sure. Why not.” she said flatly. She had wanted to talk to him anyway, and allowed him to lead her out to the dance floor after a moment of surprise.

The pair kept at arm's length as they twirled around. “You need not glare at me so. I plan to tell everyone the truth after you leave tomorrow.” Rollo said. “You could have just told me no.”

The Ramshackle prefect narrowed her eyes more. “Just because the rest forgave you doesn’t mean I will. I can’t say I’m surprised though, they’re better than me,” she’d snapped. Taking a deep breath to calm herself she added, “Besides. I needed to tell you something anyway.”

“...And that would be?” Rollo felt himself swallow hard at the ice in her voice.

Yuu’s eyes drifted over his shoulder, a sweet smile came upon her face before she leaned in to whisper into his ear, “If you ever try to hurt my friends again, I’ll make what you did tonight look like an innocent childrens movie.”

A shiver went down his spine just before a hand brushed against his shoulder. His dark green eyes turned to meet the brighter green of Malleus.

“May I cut in, Flamme?” The dragon fae had asked, a soft smile upon his face.

Rollo fought at the urge to shove Yuu at him. Instead he merely stepped away, bringing his cloth to his face and walked off. 

Malleus blinked in confusion before turning his attention back to Yuu, who continued her sweet, innocent expression. He smiled back at her as he bowed; his hand extended out for her to take. Yuu felt as if she were floating as she now danced with her Tsunotarou. No words were spoken between the two as they danced to the rest of the current song and most of the next. 

“I’m glad you were able to save your new gargoyle friends too.” Yuu muttered, resting her head against the taller man’s chest.

He closed his eyes as he smiled. “Yes, I hope to say goodbye to them before we leave.”

Yuu turned her face up to meet his again. “What if we sneak off when no one's paying us any attention? I’d love to have a chance to properly meet them before we go. I’m sure Silver could keep Sebek distracted long enough for us to at least get out of the room.”

Malleus couldn’t help the chuckle that came out of him. “It would be nice to have a moment alone with you, child of man.”

The prefect hid the blush creeping onto her cheeks into his chest again. “After this dance then?”

“After this dance,” he repeated.

Once the song ended the pair casually split off, Yuu to tell Deuce, Grim, and Epel not to wait up; Malleus to tell Silver and Sebek that he’d be getting fresh air. Also encouraging Sebek to continue enjoying himself and to not to worry. The two made eye contact across the room and nodded, now making their way outside to meet up.

The long trek had Yuu almost giving up, and the stairs certainly weren’t helping. Malleus, without missing a beat, scooped her up bridal style to carry her the rest of the way. 

“Mal! You brought another friend during the ball?”

“Did Az and Id join? Are they somewhere behind you?”

 “No, it’s just us.” Malleus smiled warmly. “I’m Yuu, it’s so nice to get to officially meet you all!”

The third gargoyle nudged Malleus while Yuu and the other two greeted and talked. “Bringing your lady friend up here mid ball eh?”

“My… lady friend?” The fae blinked in surprise.

“Is she not?” the gargoyle blinked back at him. “With how you carried and looked at her I assumed you were going to be romantic.”

Malleus looked from the gargoyle over to Yuu, a smile subconsciously appearing on his lips. “Hmm.. I suppose I can see what you mean..”

“Tsunotarou, look!” Yuu called to him. “You can see the sunrise from up here already!”

“We’ll leave you have your moment,” said the gargoyle, motioning for the other two to follow him down a level as Malleus stepped forward to be beside Yuu.

The soft orange of the sky shone in the distance as the sun just began to peak out of the horizon. Yuu snuggled close to her friend as she began to shiver; he in turn wrapped his arm tightly around her shoulders. 

“They’ll probably be wondering what’s taking us so long now..” Yuu whispered.

“Perhaps.” Malleus replied. Though neither of them had made to move just yet. “I had hoped we would have a moment with just us.” He moved his arm from her shoulders down her back to her waist. His other hand he placed on her face, softly moving his thumb along her cheek. “Within my research I learned how to say this in Fleur City’s native language.” He leaned down to place a gentle kiss onto her forehead. “Je t’aime, Yuu.”

A blush instantly made its way onto her face. “Tsun– M-Malleus?”

“Though this trip didn’t quite go as I had expected, I’m glad I got to spend some of this time with you. Je t’aime.” He said again, this time placing another gentle kiss on her lips.

In a heartbeat her hands moved to cup his face to kiss him back. “I.. I love you too.” She breathed. “So much..”

They held each other close as the sun continued to rise. Soon it would be time to head back to NRC, but until then, the new couple had a few more hours to dance atop the Bell Tower, just the two of them until it was time to officially leave Fleur City.

[corvuserpens]

Theory for what happened between the conclusion of Black Sails and the beginning of Treasure Island: part 1

I don't have it in me to write an actual fic bc I'm already stretched thin as it is with my Master's dissertation + paleoart project, my part-time restaurant job AND writing a self-indulgent fic that I may or may not post, but! I have Ideas and I need to share them.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

OKAY, SO! 🙏

After the end of Black Sails, Flint is alive and he's in the plantation with Thomas, where he spends the rest of his days. Far into the future Thomas passes away from natural causes, and Flint, in his grief over losing him a second time, and with no cause fueled by Vengeance to keep him going, starts to wither away himself. Whether his health failing due to alcoholism is... Subjective.

What is for certain however, is that without Thomas, Flint suddenly spends A LOT of time alone with his thoughts. And boy, do his thoughts start spinning and unraveling.

He recalls the past: Nassau, his adventures, his misadventures, the bold impossible plans for a revolution that was supposed to make an empire shake and crumble into dust, the friendships, the alliances, but also the betrayals. Oh, the betrayals... They eat away at him until he's consumed with dark thoughts of a rage that lied dormant for twenty or thirty years, but in the wake of Thomas' death comes back in full force like a tsunami. Impossible to ignore, destroying everything in its path. And the one betrayal at the forefront of the line, is Long John Silver.

Unfortunately, with the way his body is starting to give out after decades at sea, from battle to battle in countless blood shedding, and then years of labor in the fields, he knows he doesn't stand a chance to do anything grand and explosive about it.

So, Flint does what Flint is best at: he concocts a plot. His ultimate plot. He writes letters and sends them out through half the globe, from the Bahamas to England, summoning all acquaintances who are still alive to come see him before his final hour. There aren't many of them left, granted, which might be fortunate because with each passing day, Flint grows weaker and weaker. He can see Thomas waiting from across the river of the dead. Miranda, too. They're waiting for him. It won't be too long now.

Now, to answer the question: what happened to Billy Bones after he was stranded on Skeleton Island? The simple answer is, Ben Gunn.

Ben found himself a new crew as soon as possible and, after months (he doesn't have the gift of manipulation like Flint or Silver do, it takes him some convincing), he manages to entice them into looking for Flint's treasure, but in reality, he's there to rescue Billy.

Oh, this new crew still searches part of the island for the treasure, but after a few days, a lot of them are dead of pestilence from the swamps or really rotten luck. They decide it's not worth it and gtfo there, with an embittered, extremely pissed Billy in tow who wastes no time taking over the ship by force.

Literally by force, he beat up everyone who stood a chance to take him on and, despite the months going hungry and struggling to survive, he is an unstoppable bulldozer. Ben Gunn can no longer recognize the man he had once admired so. He has turned cruel and uncaring, especially after the first three tankards of rum. Understandably, Ben Gunn is a Little Bit Afraid of Billy Bones now.

Meanwhile, Silver and Madi found some reconciliation. They are in love, they are safe, they get married, adopt a parrot, and, for the most part, they're happy.

But it's a fragile happiness. Always, there's the reminder of everything Silver did, from quashing the war to removing Flint permanently. All Madi has to do is look at her lover and it all comes back. Every time she does, she has to make a conscious effort to bury it in her soul. But it's there all the same. The resentment. The disappointment. The hurt. Slowly corroding their bond. And Silver sees it. Flint's last words to him gnaw at him. She will no longer be enough. The comfort will grow stale. He's to smart not to know this, indeed. And yet, there's nothing he can do to remedy it.

Until he receives the letter. Flint is dying. Thomas is gone and soon he will follow. This is his last chance for reconciliation and to offer a little forgiveness. Maybe receive some in return, as well. Together, Silver and Madi travel to Savannah, Georgia.

Billy has also received Flint's letter, and at first he doesn't want to go. Let Flint rot, and may his soul burn in Hell where it belongs (where he belongs, as well). Why should he give a damn about the man who ruined his life?

But another part of him wants to go. He wants to see Flint dying with his own two eyes, just to make sure he's actually gone. It won't be the same as getting his own hands wrapped around his throat and squeezing until that glint in his eye finally snuffs out, but it's the next best thing. And who knows? Maybe God will be merciful and offer him the chance to do it, anyway. Billy also travels to Savannah, with a growing reluctant Ben Gunn at his side.

[immaculatesnz]

Way too many Bai//zhu hcs because... well... just look at my blog

not that loud but definitely desperate + forceful

like, gripping the nearest surface, knocking off his glasses forceful

would probably be spelled with italics iykwim

5/10 volume, 6/10 pitch, 5/10 wetness

breathy buildups that stutter (?) before the release sometimes (I suck at spelling but I hope you know what I mean)

fairly good at holding back but cannot stifle to save his life (but tries anyways, to varying degrees of success ranging from half-stifling to just sounding more repressed)

usually covers with his elbow, but will use the back of his hand if it catches him off guard

fits of 2-3 but can be (read: definitely) more if sick/particularly irritated (which, unfortunately, happens a lot)

longer fits can leave him winded and having to sit down afterwards, and just overall a disheveled mess

always always always excuses himself and blesses others

sneezed in front of a patient once, they blessed him and asked if he was feeling okay, and he got all flustered and was like "It's my job to worry about your health, not the other way around..."

somewhat sensitive to pollen and strong scents, meaning he has to be careful when working with certain herbs

used to be a lot worse, but managed to build tolerance after years of exposure (part of the reason why he's so good at holding back)

idk why but I also feel like he would be sensitive to cold weather

doesn't have the kink but would indulge his partner's if they asked, and would prefer to be the one doing the inducing

hear me out, he'd be really good at it too due to his knowledge of the human body and stuff (also something something him having a den//dro vision means the possibilities are endless)

should go without saying but catches colds easily (and catches them HARD)

(more general sickfic hcs under cut)

the most stubborn patient ever; everyone who cares about him literally has to beg him to rest (I mean come on he's literally the "puts everyone before themselves to the point of self sacrifice" trope)

aside from that, actually isn't that demanding, doesn't really ask for anything (unless it's reassurance that he isn't useless/weak/whatever self-deprecating thing he believes being vulnerable makes him)

so you know the quote about people trying so hard not to be a burden to others that they become one anyways?

that pretty much sums it up

can't decide whether he'd be clingy or just want to be left alone bc both are fun to think about

actually scratch that he would try to get his caretaker to leave and be all "you shouldn't have to see me like this" but would just go with it if they were to hug him

(and would stay hugging them for longer than either of them expect because he's deeply touch starved and doesn't even know it)

at some point would just pass out for the rest of the day and sleep off the whole thing

I just need to see someone care about him the way he cares about others is that too much to ask?

as you can see I totally got carried away but yeah I hope this was a good enough first contribution to the fandom

[taissaswifelowkey]

yellowjackets and how they’re jealous

1996 timeline, all characters aged up ‼️‼️

a/n: thought i’d hop on the jealous yellowjackets bandwagon. leave any feedback if you have any and enjoy reading 💪👁️

warnings: none, gay, self-indulgent YOU ALREADY KNOWWWW, proofread but idk some mistakes might still be lingering, i’m sorry :(

it starts below the cut 🧑‍��

📚 okay so i’ve said this so many times but taissa is genuinely a reasonable person. so she can’t get jealous. she knows you only want her, i mean all those looks you throw her in class? that’s saying something. it says a lot, even. but when the person you’re talking to starts getting a bit too comfortable with you, she will try to have an honest conversation. and if that person is in your class, she will possibly subtly tear that person down whenever there’s a debate going on. it’s an ethical method of having revenge. trust me my girl is on to something

🛹 van is asking herself if she’s supposed to be jealous. she’s just laughing at the person trying to flirt with you, all “lmao do they want to be a third or something???” and sneaks an arm around you. she is just a tiny bit insecure, but knows that you will never leave her. no one can make horror movies look like a comedy other than her, and no one can hold special evenings. from then on, to ignore how jealous she is she will organise said evenings more, to which you’re concerned but she just waves it off with a “i missed you all week.” so REASSURE HER!! hold her and give her lots of cuddles. overthinking will make her lose sleep

🕷️ a jealous nat? omg. bless the person who tried flirting with you and who touched your arm. that was the last limit. not like their stupid jokes did anything really, but as soon as they placed their hands on yours they were in for a long week of mind screwing. like, jumanji level of mind screwing. nothing too serious though. like just taking their jacket, waiting for a week and then placing it back. i feel like she’d be closed off for a bit too and avoid confrontation and when the time comes to talk she’s dismissive. it’ll take a bit to warm up to her heart and show her that she’s the only one you ever want to make you laugh the way she does, but you do work things out

🦉 misty does not hold back 💀💀 if the person who was running their hand through their hair trying to look cute and slick, she will leave wrong class notes and slip it inside their locker. and yes she found out bc she has disguising skills (a cap and a jacket). and they didn’t even know she existed, letting alone dating you. like “oh you go here??? my bad, i didn’t know”. when she got up from her place to march straight over to you after noticing how close they were. you were just like 🧍‍♀️🧍 “yeah we’re dating.” and you hold her hand in hers. what a charming sweet person you are. she’ll have to tell your children how you stood your ground and held their mother in your arms

🎀 lottie would just make her overthink tbh. you’re in her room one day going over homework when she randomly asks what’s you’re with her. you of course don’t even think twice and answer because you love her, she’s sweet and she feels like comfort. it reassures her a bit but pull her in your arms for a sweet kiss and repeat how much you love her, she’d melt. eventually she will ask you if the other person has a partner and why are they always with you. you answer honestly (not that you would ever hide anything from this girl) and the next day you’re laying boundaries with the person. all is well that ends well

🧸 jackie would walk straight up to you, and talk to you like the other person doesn’t even exist before walking you away from them under the guise of her not knowing where her home room is. she then sprays her perfume on your clothes, offers to polish one of your nails in the same colour she has, and wears your hoodie. now everyone will know that you two are together. she’s surprised how the person who dared touch you with their greasy fingers (her words) didn’t had the slightest of ideas that you’re basically a couple from ET magazine. it’s actually embarrassing for them. she’ll definitely dig out some info to use against them later, with her bsf shauna’s help of course. she’s the one who provides nearly all details.

🪵 shauna would be a tortured artist. she’d write poems on poems, diary entries on diary entries and won’t talk to you. you wonder if you did something wrong do you give her space until she talks. it doesn’t last that long though, just for a few days. when you do talk she has that sad yet slightly annoyed look on her face, all “i’d hate to interrupt your friendly conversation with your crush.” you don’t know what she’s talking about, she’s pissed off. she tells you to forget it but you softly and kindly insist, not wanting her to drop the subject so quickly. especially when it comes to the both of you. you let her know what it’s okay and that you’ll just stop seeing them if they continue to make moves on you. and even then she’s still writing about it weeks later, she’s lowkey still feeling the remainder of the hurt and plays emo music whenever she thinks of it though 😭😭 give my girl a hug