#fuck sorry. this made me really mad and I wish I could be at home to cry I don’t feel good

[whambamsami]

private show

summary: your shitty boyfriend wants to go to a strip club for his birthday. one of the dancers is desperate to give you the attention you deserve. stripper!bucky pt.1

pt.2

warnings: 18+, adult themes, eventual smut, language, alcohol, let me know if i miss anything!

note: not proofread, so sorry if there's any errors/plot holes! let me know if there's anything i should fix <3

You didn’t want to be here.

Not in the dimly lit, velvet-drenched VIP lounge of a high-end strip club your boyfriend had insisted on for his birthday. Not in the too-tight dress he told you to wear. Not beside him while he ogled other women like you weren’t even there.

“Loosen up,” Nick said, draping his arm around you, with that smile that had won you over months ago, but now just rubbed you the wrong way. “It’s my birthday party.” 

You’d smiled too. Barely. Enough to keep the peace.

He’d begged for this, told you only an insecure woman wouldn’t let him go on his birthday. Hell, he’d even wanted you to tag along.

You thought he wanted you to come with him and his belligerent friends to see that it wasn’t all that bad, to make you more comfortable.

But you were starting to think he got off on making you watch. 

He was generous enough to at least take you to a club that let both genders dance alike, and it was almost overwhelming, seeing men and women’s bodies, some fully exposed, some adorning tiny leather getups, gyrating on stage.

Your boyfriend, the perfect gentleman. 

And he wonders why you won’t take him home to meet your parents.

His friends are all practically howling at a woman onstage, pushing your boyfriend up to get closer to her. She’s wearing nipple pasties, crotchless panties, a pair of stilettos that have you fearing for her ankles, and a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. 

Not that Nick would notice. He never noticed that kind of thing when it came to women. That, or he didn’t care.

“You won’t mind if I get a private dance, will you, babe?”

You wanted to feel angry at him. For him to see just how fucked this entire situation was. You should be feeling more.

But you just felt disgust. He made your skin crawl. You couldn’t give a shit about what he did here. He’d lost you the second he suggested this. 

So you nod tightly. An apology flashes in the woman’s eyes as she slinks off the stage next to him. 

You can’t be mad at her. It’s just business. 

And honestly, the fact that someone else would be filling in for you tonight, pretending to derive any pleasure from whatever Nick planned on doing, was a relief. You weren’t sure you would have it in you.

Not wanting to hear what his pitiful friends had to say about the situation you now found yourself in, you made a break for the bar, flagging down a topless bartender and politely asking for one of the craft cocktails. 

Hey, at least you could get something out of tonight. 

The bartender returned with your cocktail in hand. On the house, he’d said. You wished he was just being friendly, but the look in his eyes told you what this really was.

Pity. 

Whatever. The drink was good. Strong. Exactly what you needed to dull your senses a little, to get your mind off how you even ended up in this club in the first place. 

As you sipped, admittedly a bit faster than you should, the music shifted- bass-heavy and seductive.

The next performer was about to take the stage. 

You turned to face the velvet curtains that hid whoever was up next. Maybe you could pick up a few things, some tips that you could bring to your next relationship.

Your next boyfriend would be more appreciative, you promised yourself.

Better in bed, too. 

The second you saw him, though, everything else blurred.

Huh. A male performer.

All’s fair, right?

Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dark stubble shadowing a wicked mouth. Ice-blue eyes that swept the room with slow, calculated confidence. His body was lethal, dressed in nothing but black dress pants and a white button-down-half-unbuttoned, sleeves rolled, like sin in motion.

Your breath caught.

The performer didn’t smile. Not at first. 

But you swear he made eye contact with you.

And when he did, he flashed his canines. Just for a second. Like he knew every dirty thought that was flashing in your head. Like he knew something you didn’t.

The lights dim. The music gets louder. Or maybe everything else gets quieter, you’re not sure.

And suddenly, he’s all you could see.

He walks onto the stage like he’s stalking prey-calm, confident, dangerous. Not a trace of performance in his stride. He doesn’t play it for laughs or gimmicks. He doesn’t wink. He hunts.

The music pulses dark and slow. He unbuttons his shirt one button at a time, each flick of fabric revealing warm, taut muscle, tattoos, scars, shadows that make your mouth dry.

He glances down-just once-and finds your eyes again in the dark.

You squeeze your thighs together, shift again, try to look anywhere else-but it’s no use. He knows what he’s doing. He knows he’s got you.

He unzips his pants. Just an inch. Just enough to make your exhale stutter.

And the second you breathe out, his tongue drags across his bottom lip.

You’re going to combust.

“There you are!” 

You’re snapped out of whatever spell he had you under.

Your boyfriend returned from his little dance, wearing a smile that was a little too wide. Nick and his friends surrounded you at the bar, cutting off what you could see of the performance, much to your disappointment. You didn’t even care when you saw him whispering excitedly to his buddies, when you watched them pat him on the back like he’d won some kind of game, when their eyes would dart over to you like you didn’t know any better. 

Like you were stupid.

You steal a glance at the stage to try and catch the end of the man’s performance, but all you see is the swish of curtains closing as he disappears backstage.

Could this night get any worse?

As if the bartender could read your mind, he appeared again, placing what appeared to be a very expensive bottle of chilled champagne in front of you. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, sir, I didn’t order-”

“On the house.” he stated simply, as if you should have known. The little gold name tag that rested low on his waistband told you his name was Sam. 

God, at least the service here was great. 

Nick and his friends hooted and hollered, reaching for the bottle, excited to grab a glass, but Sam stopped them, pulling the bottle just far enough out of reach. 

“Sorry, boys, but I’m under strict instructions that this is for the lady only. No sharing.”

Your boyfriend’s lips pursed. 

“What, did somebody roofie that or something? Babe, you’re not drinking that. I don’t trust it.” and to solidify his point, he wrapped his arm around you. His sweaty, gross arm. 

You hated that he still felt like he could touch you like this. 

“Actually, sir, that bottle is for her to take to one of the private rooms. This doesn’t happen often, but she’s been asked to join one of our dancers.”

Your stomach dipped.

The champagne sparkled in the light, a little ribbon of condensation sliding down the glass like it knew how flustered you felt.

“She’s been… what?” Nick scoffed, voice rising with laughter he clearly didn’t feel. “Asked to join a dancer?”

Sam nodded, unbothered. You could have sworn you saw a glimpse of a smile on his face, like he was secretly enjoying this. 

“That’s right. Bucky requested her personally.” You could have sworn you saw a glimpse of a smile on his face, like he was secretly enjoying this. “Very rare, especially for him. I’d take it as a compliment.”

Nick scoffed again, turning to you like it was some kind of joke. 

“You’re not seriously considering that, are you?”

You blinked. Slowly. 

Then you looked down at his arm around your waist-the one that had gotten too heavy, too tight, too possessive over time-and peeled it off like it burned.

“You got a dance too, right?” you said evenly, reaching for the neck of the bottle, “At least mine is free.”

Nick’s friends laughed awkwardly. He didn’t.

“He’s probably just trying to upsell you some bullshit champagne fantasy. It’s a trick.”

Sam snorted as he grabbed two champagne flutes.

“Yeah, well. If it is, it’s working.”

Nick reached for your waist, and for once, you were thankful that he was so fucking sweaty all the time, because it let you slip out of his grip. 

“You don’t know what kind of guy he is.”

That made you laugh. It sounded more bitter than you’d ever heard it.

“He’s a stripper, Nick. Not exactly looking for Prince Charming right now. But whatever kind of guy he is, it looks like he’s interested in treating me a bit better than you are.”

Then you turned, grabbed the bottle, and followed Sam toward the back—heart hammering, adrenaline singing through your veins.

You didn’t know what was waiting for you behind the curtain.

But whatever it was?

It had to be better than this.

[lemonlover1110]

Hello! I hope you are doing well 😌 you are my fav writer and I just wanted to to throw out this crazy brainrot request to u bc I am SICK over it

So Florence nightingale syndrome right? Toji is like a professional boxer or whatever something athletic bc he's a fucking beast and he gets hurt, like his leg or something, and you become his at home occupational therapist. So you're like taking care of him and he's getting feelings for you while also being a stubborn ass bc u push him constantly so he can get better. and he's super hesitant to accept his feelings bc he's a Playboy of course.

I'm just picturing this one scene where you're helping him up and he's leaning on you and he says something like "are you sure you can handle me princess?" Idk I'm insane I'm sorry 😭😭😭😭

Pairing: boxer!Toji Fushiguro x f!caregiver!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, frustrated Toji, Florence nightingale syndrome, Toji has an injured leg and is a little bitch for a bit

*This was so fun to work on and now I'm having thinking a little too hard about boxer toji (I'm ovulating) sofjsof enjoy!

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Toji never really thought he’d be dependent on someone, yet now he can’t even take a shower standing up. After an unlucky boxing match, Toji ended up in a cast and crutches. That’s what he gets for not listening to his son who told him it was around time to retire.

“I’m not a fucking skeleton, I’m good in my field. I can do this for a couple more years.” How he wishes he could swallow his fucking words. He thought that after getting the cast off he’d go back to normal, and he’d have no issue with mobility. He shouldn’t have an issue moving his fucking leg again, he’s been moving it for more than thirty years, why should three months of not moving it change much?

Apparently he can’t do anything, which is why he has someone with him all day every day, helping him so he can get better. Toji’s main issue? He gets frustrated when someone tries to help him. 

“Be careful, it’s hot.” You smile at him as you put his dinner in front of him. He has a scowl on his face as you set it down in front of him. He tried to help make dinner but he couldn’t stand for too long. He’s mad, but not at you. He could never be mad at you. 

Toji wasn’t necessarily fond of you when you started working with him; he hates being dependent on someone else, and he knew that he would have to depend on you for pretty much everything. You try to help him though, and he should be more appreciative of you because of it, but in reality he feels like a fucking baby. He’s grown to like you though… A little too much for his liking. 

You leave him to eat, going to wash the dishes since he can’t do the task yet. Perhaps his own bowl and spoon, but not everything that needs to be cleaned. You watch him from the counter, watching his refusal to pick up the spoon and eat the soup you made him. Earlier he was so prideful, telling you that he would help you every step of the way during dinner, and he couldn’t even finish one third of it. You were proud of him regardless.

“It’s really good, Toji! The potatoes you helped peel really added a touch to it.” You’ve gotten close enough to be on a first name basis. You see each other every day, you stay in the same house, of course you’re close enough to talk to each other so casually. It doesn’t mean you should though. You’ve always managed to keep a very professional relationship with patients, but there’s just something about him that makes it hard for you to be normal around him.

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a fucking kid.” He says, pushing the bowl of soup away. He’s not hungry anymore. Toji stands up, his hands holding on to the table to support himself before grabbing his crutches. 

“Toji, if you’re not eating it, can you try to bring it over to me, please?” You ask. You know the soup has cooled down, if he spills it, he’ll be fine.

“If you want it, pick it up yourself.” Toji is clearly mad. You don’t take it to heart though, because you know it’s with himself and not you. 

“How about we go to the park tomorrow? It’s supposed to be a nice day out.” You talk to Toji who tries to watch a documentary. He’s not all that interested in what he put on, caring more about what you have to say. He might not show it, and he tries to deny it, but he has the biggest soft spot for you. “We can also get some ice cream, if you’re in the mood!”

“Hey… I’m sorry about earlier. I was just—” It’s hard to get an apology out of him, but sometimes he knows he’s in the wrong and he feels the need to apologize. He doesn’t want you to be mad at him, even though you’re clearly not upset with him. You’re so understanding and patient with him, he feels like he doesn’t deserve that.

“You’re fine, Toji.” You reassure him with a smile, your hand going over his balled up fist. You feel your heart skip a beat as you touch him. You’ve crossed the line past a professional relationship, and you should set some boundaries within yourself– But his other hand goes on top of your own before he brings it up, softly kissing your knuckles. It’s hard to set boundaries when he feels the same way.

“I’m tired.” He tells you, and you stand up to help him get up. Toji usually denies your help, but this time, he has no problem accepting it. You just want the best for him, and there’s some things that he can’t do completely alone. He has to take baby steps. He’s using you for support, and he’s scared that he’s too heavy for you. He asks you, “Are you sure, princess? Can you handle me? I know I’m pretty big.”

“You’re fine. I can handle you.” You reassure him, and you begin to walk to his bedroom. His room was previously on the second floor, but ever since his injury, he’s moved his bedroom to the first floor. You get him to his bedroom, helping him on the bed. You smile at him before saying, “Let me grab your crutches. You left them in the living room, right?”

Before you can walk away, he grabs your sleeve. Toji’s slowly realizing that he can’t fight off the feelings that consume him when you help him, and he’s usually not a fan of them. Toji’s been tied down once before, he certainly doesn’t want that again. But with you, it’s different. He doesn’t mind the idea.

“Will you lay down with me?” He asks, and you suck in your bottom lip between your teeth. You shouldn’t. He caresses your cheek with the back of his hand before he prompts himself up to kiss the corner of your mouth.

“Toji, you know this isn’t something I can do.” You tell him as he looks lovingly into your eyes. “I’m here to help you get better.”

“You can help me get better by laying down next to me.” Toji responds. You grab the hand that so lovingly touches your cheek and kiss it, before bringing your lips down to meet his momentarily. He swears he hears fireworks when your lips meet, even after you pull away.

He’s most definitely in love with you.

“I’ll go get your crutches. Good night, Toji.”

[trulyy-yourzz]

Pleasee we need a fic where Billie gets jealous as shit and pounds the fuck out of us after we get back home with her

Oh yes. Your wish is my command 🤭

━─━────━─━────━─━────━─━────

Billie had won another award for the best song of the year. She was so talented, and you were so proud of her. She'd come so far.

After the award show, a close friend you both knew decided to throw an after-party. But unfortunately, when you and Billie walked in, you both met eyes with the one person Billie despised most.

The woman she oh-so "hated" was someone she knew personally from a long time ago. And apparently ruined a close relationship with a friend. Who was now trying to take her spot for #1 best artist of the year.

Billie had left you alone for a few seconds to go grab drinks and came back to a very... unpleasant sight. You were talking to her, out of all people. Billie set the drinks down on a nearby table and shoved past everyone, absolutely furious, and trying to get to you before anything else happened between you two.

"Hi." Billie wrapped her arm around your waist, yanking you close to her. "I see you've met my girlfriend." She was pissed. Extrenely pissed. The girl just laughed and nodded her head. "Yes, I had pulled her for a conversation. About you, actually." Billie glared at her and scoffed.

"Really? And why's that?" Billies grip on your waist tightened, looking at you with a fake smile planted on her face. "Baby, we were just..." you pleaded.

"We should go. It's late, and I have plans in the morning." She grabbed onto your wrist, dragging you away from that awful situation.

The car ride home was quiet, not a peep was made from either of you. When you initially got to the car, you tried to explain yourself, but Billie really didn't want to hear it.

Once you guys pulled up to the house, she immediately got out of the car, walking to the front door and unlocking it. You followed behind her, guilt burried deep in your chest.

"Billie, listen, i -" She turned around to face you, her expression making it obvious she was still mad. "You should shower." She said and just kicked her shoes off, turning around to go elsewhere in the house.

You scratched the back of your neck and sighed. You'd felt so bad for what had happened, but you genuinely did try to end the conversation between you and that girl because you knew this would've happened.

You were in the shower, thoughts racing through your head as you contemplated about a bunch of what-ifs and what you should've done. You jumped, hearing the bathroom door suddenly open. But quickly calmed down, realizing it was just your girlfriend, Billie.

She abruptly opened the glass door to the shower, eyeing your body up and down before stepping in with you. She had already undressed herself and was now backing you into the wall of the shower. "What made you think that was okay?" She looked down at you, disappointed in your selfish actions from earlier that night.

"I tried to, but she was persistent... billie, I'm sorry, really -" She just hushed you and scoffed. She grabbed your arm and spun you around, pushing you against the wall. Your back facing her.

She leaned into you, whispering closely in your ear. "Be a good girl for me. Okay?" You're heart dropped, knowing that this was gonna be one hell of a torturous night.

Billie had thrown you onto the bed, her strap connected to her body as she pounded into you like an animal. She was wild, and she didn't care to stop. No matter how loud you whined.

"P-please, billie I can't - no more..." You screamed into the pillow, face down, ass up, whilst she fucked you into oblivion. She leaned down, cupping your chin and pulling you up to connect her lips with yours. Your legs started to tremble. She could tell you were close. "Mhm. Just like that." She pushed your head back down and removed the strap from your dripping cunt. You frowned into the pillow, and you could've sworn you were about to cry. You were so frustrated and needed to cum.

Billie moved you onto your back, locking your wrists into her hand, using her other one to tease your throbbing clit. Your eyes rolled back, and you exhaled sharply. She lightly tapped your pussy before sliding two digits into your wet folds. You shakily moaned, your cunt squeezing down on her fingers.

Billie sped up her pace, and you felt yourself reaching heaven. Or was it hell? It didn't matter. You just wanted to feel the release. You craved it.

She lifted your legs up, throwing one over her shoulder as she removed her fingers, replacing it with her cock. Not gently. But thrusting it roughly deep inside of you. "Don't you go pulling some stupid shit like that again, do you understand?" Your eyes fluttered shut, but you nodded your head and bit down hard onto your lip, feeling your orgasm approaching.

"Fuck... yes. Yes!" Billies hand slid up your stomach, stopping at your neck and gripping gently. Not too hard to hurt you, but enough for you to know who was in charge.

You're legs began to shake, body convulsing and eliciting a moan through your parted lips every time she drove her hard cock into your seeping pussy. You felt something strange starting to build up in your core. You wanted her to stop. It was weird, and your body was burning. But she didn't care. She wanted to fuck you til your last breath.

And before you knew it, you were squirting all over her cock, giving it a nice and shiny coat. Just for her. She groaned, watching as your eyes rolled back and your chest heaved. "Fuck. I love you so much." She leaned down, kissing your plump lips as you laid there. So fucked out and delicate. So beautiful.

.

.

.

Notes: idk why this took me 3 days... this week has been exhausting 😓 but of course, I still have to be here for my babiesss! I hope you enjoyedd💕

Also, what are our thoughts about billies concerts so far??? Personally, I'm going feral 🤭

[alaia777]

hey diva😍 im craving angst🥰😋 i was wondering if you could write some angst w comfort with ex-boyfriend! shidou??? maybe it can go something like this fic? but OFC in ur own lovely style and w shidou instead of sukuna hehehe, thank u in advance <3 love u girl

i don’t really like how this one turned out but i hope it’s ok :’)

“let me finish my—” you hung up the phone the moment you heard shidou’s voice on the other end.

it had been almost a month since you broke up with him—almost a month since he embarrassed you in front of your friends, picking a fight with your best friend’s boyfriend and getting you both kicked out of your favorite restaurant, banned from ever coming back. that night, he swore he’d never do something like that again, promised he’d behave, for you.

only to turn around and start an argument with the barista at a coffee shop just for wishing you a good day. he didn’t throw a punch, so you’d give him that—but he did make the poor guy cry.

so ever since then he’s been trying to win you back, ordering food to your place, leaving flowers at your job, and honestly you thought that was sweet, until you heard he called the guard at your workplace insults on his way back.

you sighed, tossing your phone onto the couch and pinching the bridge of your nose. shidou never did anything halfway—whether it was love or chaos, he threw himself in headfirst, dragging everyone along for the ride.

a knock at your door pulled you from your thoughts. you already knew who it was.

“go home, shidou.”

“nah.”

of course.

another knock, more insistent this time. “c’mon, babe, you’re really gonna leave me out here?”

“yes.”

“cold,” he muttered, but you could hear the grin in his voice.

you rolled your eyes but still found yourself walking to the door, arms crossed as you opened it just a crack. and there he was, standing in the dim light of the hallway, his usual cocky smirk in place—but there was something else too, something more desperate in the way his eyes searched your face.

“i don’t wanna fight,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “just let me talk.”

you exhaled sharply, stepping back to let him in. he didn’t waste a second, slipping inside like he belonged there—because, for a long time, he did.

he turned to face you, running a hand through his hair. “look, i know i fucked up.”

“which time?”

he let out a short laugh, but it lacked his usual arrogance. “fair.”

silence settled between you, heavy and uncertain.

“…i just don’t get why you’re so mad.”

your eyes snapped to his. seriously?

“shidou, you got me banned from my favorite restaurant, made a barista cry, and insulted the guard at my job—”

“he was being a dick first.”

“—and you don’t get why i’m mad?”

he stared at you for a moment, then sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “i just.. i don’t like people getting too close to you.”

you scoffed. “so your solution is to pick a fight with every guy who so much as looks at me?”

he shrugged, unbothered. “yeah, kinda.”

you wanted to strangle him. but more than that, you wanted to kiss him. and that was the real problem.

“you can’t just act like an asshole and expect me to take you back.”

“then tell me what to do,” he said, stepping closer, his voice softer now. “tell me how to fix it.”

your breath hitched. because the thing about shidou was that, despite everything, despite his impulsiveness and reckless mouth, he meant it. when he loved, he loved.

“start by apologizing.”

he smirked. “for what, exactly?”

you shoved his shoulder. “shidou.”

“alright, alright,” he laughed, catching your wrist before you could push him again. “i’m sorry, okay? for real.”

his grip on your wrist loosened, but he didn’t let go. and maybe, just maybe, you didn’t want him to.

shidou watched you closely, his usual cocky grin flickering, just for a second, into something softer. something almost nervous.

“so? that enough, or do i gotta get on my knees?” he teased, but there was an edge to it—like he’d actually do it if you told him to.

you bit the inside of your cheek, fighting back a smirk. “hmm, tempting.”

his brows lifted. “oh? you like the idea of me begging?”

“maybe,” you hummed, pulling your hand from his grasp and stepping back, just to make him sweat a little. “depends how bad you want me back.”

shidou groaned, dragging a hand down his face before flashing you a lopsided grin. “babe, c’mon—i already said sorry. i even brought flowers.”

“and called my workplace security a dumbass on the way out,” you reminded him.

he opened his mouth, then shut it, knowing you had him there.

you sighed, pretending to think it over. “i don’t know, shidou. i think you need to suffer a little more.”

he narrowed his eyes at you. “suffer?”

“mhm.” you leaned against the counter, feigning innocence. “if you really want me back, you better make it good.”

for once, shidou was quiet, watching you like he was trying to figure out your next move. then, just as quickly, his smirk returned.

“alright, fine,” he said, stepping closer until there was barely any space between you. “how ‘bout this—i’ll do anything you want. whatever it takes to prove i’m serious.”

you raised an eyebrow. “anything?”

his smirk deepened. “anything.”

you tapped your chin, drawing it out, making sure he really meant it. then, finally, you grinned.

“okay,” you said, crossing your arms. “first, you’re buying me dinner. at a place i choose. and you’re not getting us banned this time.”

shidou let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. “done.”

“and you’re apologizing to the barista.”

he groaned. “babe—”

“ah, ah,” you cut him off, tilting your head. “anything, remember?”

he muttered something under his breath but ultimately sighed in defeat. “fine.”

satisfied, you pushed off the counter, finally closing the small gap between you. “good. then maybe—maybe—i’ll think about taking you back.”

shidou smirked, his eyes softening as he held your gaze. “guess i better make it count, then.” his voice dropped, the playful edge turning into something more sincere.

maybe, just maybe, you’d let him.

[lostintransist]

Seamstress | Part 7

Check out part 1 here. AO3

CW: Momma drama. If you have a bad mom relationship like I do please read with caution. Also John comes home a bit broken. He gets better but not in this part.

John appears behind you as you are stepping into your shop. When his hand pushes the door open wider from behind you startle.

“Jesus fuck me!” You jump and spin, eyes wide and chest heaving as you confirm who stood behind you.

The slightly worried look on John’s face tells you he didn’t mean to startle you.

“Sorry dove thought you heard me.”

“Apparently my thoughts were too loud,” sheepishly you push the door shut behind him and begin to flick on lights.

Waiting for you at the counter with John is your jewelry box. It looks better than before if that is possible.

“I didn’t stain it,” John runs a finger down the side and you wish that digit dragged down your side instead.

Fuck, bitch you can’t be this horny yet, he just arrived. Apparently, the earth-shattering orgasm from your vibrator last night with the taste of him on your lips wasn’t enough. When did you get so greedy?

“Why not?” You ask as you fold your arms, not one hundred percent sure your bra would be able to trap your steel-tipped nipples.

Glancing from the box to John you see a soft smile. When he looks up at you it grows.

“I noticed how much you seemed to like the grain of the wood and seemed sad at the idea of it being covered up. A few coats of clear lacquer to protect it and it was done.”

“I love it. I’m so glad you chose lacquer. I would have been happy with any choice you made but this? It’s wonderful.” Leaving the box at the counter you waved John to follow you.

“I made you something as well.” Putting a hand on the nob of the door to the back room you spun. “I know it’s not really a problem, but you have complained about going into what you call “power meetings” with only your slacks or your fancy uniforms so I made you something that should hold up against scrutiny.”

John’s arms are folded, head tilted ever so slightly to watch you with the smile tucked under his mustache.

Taking a deep breath you twist the handle and step back into the room. You hung the suit on the wall directly in front of the door so you could watch his face as he saw it. You had paid a pretty penny for the fabric, thread, and buttons. They all came together so seamlessly that even your friend who was a tailor wouldn’t have been able to know a suitmaker hadn’t put it together unless he started to pull it apart at the seams. You had also purchased the silk for his shirt and made that by hand as well.

The smile falls from his face as he steps up to the suit and runs a hand lightly over it.

“Holy fuck.”

Glancing from side to side you bite your lip.

“So what do you think?”

When he turns you know why people like blue eyes so much. John’s blue eyes are enchanting with the tears rimming his lashes. They remind you of the ocean in the photos you’ve seen of tropical places.

“I can’t think of a gift that has ever meant more to me,” he chokes out around the tears in his throat.

“Do you want to try it on?” You suggest, heart fluttering in your chest.

“I want-”

His desires were cut off by the sound of the bell.

Turning you call out.

“Sorry, we are closed today,” when you catch sight of your mom.

The warmth that had settled over you like sunlight as spring breaks chilled to the harshest of winter breezes. Shutting the door to the back room, and your joy from your sorrow you face your mother.

“You didn’t come to Christmas,” she starts.

“I told Pop I would be going to Nana’s this year.”

“You’re still mad at me,” she pouts with her eyebrows.

Your mother had skills in expressing herself without making a scene about it.

“I am not mad, I’m done.”

Your mother stepped up to the counter, slowly opening each drawer of your gift. Snatching it off the counter you placed it on your working desk next to your sewing machine.

“What does being done have to do with not coming to Christmas?”

She’s pulling that mom tone again, trying to force you into a child role whether she knows it or not.

“I do not enjoy the way I feel while spending time with you. I do not like the comments you make or the fact that even when my brother is being rude I am still in the wrong. And I am done putting myself in situations to be hurt because you happened to get knocked up and produce me.”

She had told you once that you were a birth control failure baby. She had been drinking, you had been ten.

“I did not happen to get knocked up,” she sputtered.

Taking a deep breath you point your eyes at the ceiling and pray for patience.

“That is not the point of this conversation and I apologize for bringing it up. What I am saying is that I won’t be spending more time with you until we can go to family therapy. I’ve told this to Pop several times. I will send you a few options between us and will set up the appointment as well.”

“But I am your mother!” She is getting shrill, a sure sign she is losing control of the conversation in her mind.

“And I am grown. Now I have a private appointment I need to get back to.”

“Is this because of the comment about no one paying to see you naked? I’m sorry that you were offended by what I said.”

Your jaw works as your fingers curl into talons and your shoulders stiffen.

“I am not having that discussion here and now. Pick a therapist from the list I send you or leave me alone.”

Mom looks shocked, scared even, at the tone you use. She turns leaving in a huff and you open the door to the back to see John, shirt unbuttoned and eyes blown wide as if someone dosed him with drugs.

“That’s an option? I can pay to see you naked? Is a hundred enough?”

“A hundred?” You ask, confused but slightly hurt that he thought you were so cheap.

“No? Okay, a hundred and fifty thousand?” He looks desperate and hopeful and lost and like he might combust all at once.

You choke on your spit. Did that man just offer a hundred and fifty thousand dollar bucks to see you naked!?

All it would have taken is a glass of wine, a smokey look, and an invitation to bed and your clothes would have disappeared from your body like they never existed. Like damn you had high self-confidence, forged out of hate comments online and in real life, but you weren’t worth that much. Maybe John did like you like you liked him?

He stepped forward, mouth opening to form words when his phone went off. The instant change told you it was work.

“Dammit all to hell and may it never return,” he snatched up his pants from the cot and answered the phone as he moved it to his ear, snarling. “What?”

You watched as the soldier overtook the man. His back straightened as he tucked the phone between his shoulder and his ear beginning to work at the buttons at his wrists. Stepping into his space you took over the task freeing him faster than he would have managed. Helping him out of the shirt you fold it over one arm, watching as he disappears below his shirt to reappear through the head hole. You don’t offer to help him remove the pants but take them when offered without comment.

John doesn’t spare you a glance as he pulls his cargo pants up, sheathing the deliciously thick thighs he hides. When he sits to tie his boots you toss the clothes from your arms to the cot and kneel to take over that task for him. Tying them tight you stand and offer him a hand. He takes it, holding on as he stands.

Still on the phone he pulls your knuckles to his lips and turns the phone away from his mouth.

“When I get back, we are talking about this.”

It’s all you can do to nod before he dons his coat and slips into the precipitation of January.

🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡

The last of the snowdrops are blooming when John makes it back home. Between the knocks at the front door and the vibrating of your phone from under your pillow, you wake enough to stumble to the front door. The door opens fully before your eyes do.

John looks haggard, as if he aged ten years in the three months he was gone. A full beard had grown in, the ends ragged and uneven. His eyes flick over you. No expression crosses his face.

“John? You’re home,” the sigh in your last word pulls him through the door and into your arms.

It’s too late for your mind to come up with reasons why dragging him into your room after locking the front door would be a bad idea. Stripping him of his boots and his pants you invite him to lay under the blankets with you by laying them atop him and letting him settle into the mattress. Crossing around the bed you join him between the sheets. Laying on your side you stare at him.

Something about him felt broken and you didn’t dare hold him and make it worse.

“What can I do John?” You ask the darkness between you.

The words settle on him like the ice blown around in the wind of the gulag.

“Tell me what happened while I was gone. I don’t feel real.”

You scoot closer to him in the bed, less than a handswidth between you.

“I brought your suit home. I missed you a few weeks after you left and had nothing but the photo from the party and your gift. My mom started going to individual therapy. We tried a couple of family sessions but the therapist recommended that she do some personal work before we attempt to do much more work on fixing our relationship. My brother called me on my birthday, which was unexpected. I bet my po-”

“I missed your birthday?” John’s broken whisper cut you off.

“Yeah,” you reach out and touch his pinky. He flinches so you shift your hand back, but before it can go too far his hand chases you locking your fingers together.

“When is your birthday?”

“Valentine’s Day.”

“You must hate that.”

The accurate observation surprises you. You’ve talked with other people who have birthdays on holidays, most Christmas and New Year’s babies hate it, birthdays on big celebration days that aren’t the big big ones tend to go either way but for you, it always felt required to have a date on your birthday. Were you out because your date wanted to celebrate you or show off for the table around you?

“I do,” you let out a small chuckle. “My brother was born on May Day, he doesn’t seem to mind it. When is your birthday John?”

“July second.” He pulls in a deep breath, “Will you hold me?”

Small and scared his voice pierces into your chest.

“However you want to be held,” you answer in earnest.

“Lay back?”

You adjust to settle on your back, fixing the pillow below your head. John follows you, as cautious as an alley cat. Once his head is resting against your chest, chin tipped between your breasts you curl your arm around his shoulder next to your ribs and rest your hand on his back. The shuddering breaths that start from him prompt you to keep telling him about what happened while he was away.

“Did you know your muppets came to visit me? They all brought in their own fixes and asked to use your cot. Every one of them woke looking like they had no clue where they were and agreed that they understood why you kept coming back for naps.”

You talk until you drift into sleep, but your dreams are full of stories so maybe you talk to John until you wake.

Part 7 | Part 8

Seamstress Masterlist | Masterlist

[gamblersdoll]

Genya being so horny and waking you up in the middle of the night because he needs you so bad 🙏🙏 (I really love your works btw)

nsfw, bump and grind, genya creams himself

an: thank you babydoll, i love when you all vocalize your feelings about my works.

if it were a problem genya had, was his wet dreams.

ever since he started puberty, he’s had trouble with his wet dreams taking over, having him feel so sticky and stuffy when he woke up from his sleep, and he didnt have much help with handling it.

yet, you told him to embrace it, itll all wash over soon. but tonight, it was different. you smelled different, he could smell your cunt while he slept next to you. he always had that same dream of you, he coming home and seeing you just laying there, begging to be taken and you wearing a shirt of his.

it was just a fucking shirt, and you made it seem like you needed him to fuck you in it, to grip your arms like they were handlebars.

and it would always end there, him waking up, throbbing and sticky tipped. it wasnt fair, he needed to know how the dream ended and he would wake up and have to force himself to not dry hump you.

but this time? way different. you smelled different, he could smell your cunny and worst of all, you wore a shirt of his. his eyes dilate, feeling himself on the brink of just saying ‘fuck it’ and get you knocked up.

he snakes his arms around you, his groin pressing up against your ass and he softly thrusts into you. it wasnt like he was inside, right? no, youd be so mad at him.

“what are you doing, gen?” you ask, peering back. his mannerisms stop, he tries to control his heartbeat and his breathing, but he cant. shit, he was such a gross perv, how could he?

“i- uhum, im sorry!” he freaks, scooting back and taking deep breaths. “i.. had that dream again, and it was wrong for me to do tha—“

you cut him off, shaking your head and chuckling. “i told you to embrace it, babyboy.” you say, scooting close back to him. “and i was just uncomfortably laying here. you can try again.” you smile, thats what also gets him, your smile. he wishes he could see it all the time, since he goes out alot to work and keep you safe.

he nods, getting behind you again and holding you to him, bumping his clothed cock against your pantied ass. he moans a bit, grinding himself into your cheek and a whine erupts.

you start as well, feeling his cock somewhat press and graze your puckered hole and ass, a little bit of your pussy. you press your ass back against him, grinding your own self into him and the cycle continues. he dug his face into the crook of your neck, groping your breasts and open mouth kissing your shoulder.

“fuckfuckfuck…” he whined, his hips stutter against you. “im gun—naa cum.” he grits, his hands traveling down to your hips and bumping his hips faster into your ass. he didnt forget how much this made you aroused, so he shoved his hand into your panties and rubbed small circles into your clit.

this was all it took for you both to cream yourselves, but his was more expected. his teeth only nibble into your shoulder, licking at the wound and shuddering in excitement.

[anundyingfidelity]

A PLEASANT SURPRISE — Billy Butcher

Summary: After a long time apart, Butcher breaks in your home on your birthday.

Pairing: Billy Butcher x female reader.

Word count: 1.1k.

Warnings: mentions of sex, suggestive, language, mentions of Becca and a dead fiancé.

If you'd like to be added, the taglist is here!

notes: this was a request part of my 400 followers drabbles but it was a cute idea and i loved it too much so it turned out longer! the request was made by @thatcharmingmushroom, happy birthday honey!!! i hope you like it!

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

With a long sigh, you made your way inside your apartment. Under the few illumination coming from the street lights on the windows, you placed on the countertop the bag of groceries you carried. First thing you looked for was the bottle of wine, in need to just forget the shitty week you had.

“Need help with that?”

That voice you knew too much caused you to jump slightly, your heart beating so hard against your chest as you turned on your heels to see the tall man standing against the wall. He turned on the light switch. Now you could see him better.

“Shit, you scared the hell out of me!” you breathed out.

You couldn’t get mad at him right now. If you weren’t too tired, then you probably would.

Butcher closed the distance between both of you and kissed your cheek softly, the burning feeling of his beard against your skin. “Sorry, luv. I was just passing by.”

You turned your head slightly, ghosting your lips against his own. “You could’ve just called before…”

“Yeah, but what’s the point in that?” he smirked before kissing you properly.

You hummed, feeling his lips after missing him for almost three weeks now. He always left for work. You knew he was into some dangerous shit, but you couldn't really blame him. The world was a disgusting place and you could only find some relief and a sense of safety when you were with him.

You had lost your fiancé to supes, he had lost his wife to supes as well. Twice. And you found each other in a moment where you couldn't lose anything else... But him. You were pretty sure he thought the same. That was why he just left for weeks without telling you, without a call. Nothing. That was his way of protecting you, even if you could bump into one of those fuckers anytime.

When you broke the kiss he started looking for something in your cabinets and once he found the corkscrew he opened the bottle. You took out two wine cups and poured the wine. Soon, you settled together in your living room, sitting on your couch. After taking a sip of your cup, you put it on your coffee table by the side of his own cup. You leaned your head on his shoulder lovingly.

"I missed you so much," you mumbled, taking his hand on yours.

"I know..."

"I wish you'd come more often," you said, looking up at him.

His gaze turned compassionate and he forced to look away from you, instead lowering his eyes. "Well, I'm here now, innit?"

You shifted and turned, making his eyes lock with yours, making it impossible to escape from your hurtful expression. He started to miss the warmth of your hand and your body against his own.

"William, you know what I mean."

"You know what I do," Butcher said. "I'm trying to protect you."

"Yes, but I-" you cut your words, now looking away. It felt so stupid to begin the night with something like this, knowing well you could not see each other that often. "I just wish things were different."

Butcher smiled sadly,. Seeing you like that was breaking his heart. You were the only person, besides Becca, who he could really rely and understand perfectly. He knew you were no replacement for her, and he was no substitute to your fiancé, not now, not never. But there was just something that had drawn him to you that day when you met at that seedy bar. Not just the way you kissed and fucked each other's brains out, but you. You didn't leave the next day, and he didn't want to leave. You didn't run away when he opened up his heart, and neither did he.

It was so silly how a one night stand had you right there, in front of him, after all those months. All of you. You were everything for him that night, and it was no different now.

"Y'know why I came here, right?" he asked, placing his hand on your thigh.

You beamed, trying to focus in the moment. "Thought you forgot."

"Can't believe you think so little of me, luv," Butcher smirked, leaning down to kiss you again, cupping your cheek with the palm of his hand. "Happy birthday."

A soft smile appeared on your lips. "Thank you."

He started looking for something inside his coat and took out a beautiful royal blue silk box, handing it to you with a smirk on his lips. "Got something for ya."

"You didn't steal this, did you?" you said, with a teasing voice, caressing the box with your fingers. It was pretty.

"Just traded a favor," he continued. Your brows lifted. "I'm being honest, sweetheart. Open it."

You giggled under your breath and did as he said. "Fine."

With a gasp, your eyes widened at the insides of the silk box. There was a pretty golden necklace, a small precious gemstone adorned the center. It left you speechless, just staring at it and blinking repeatedly. You knew it was fucking expensive and here you had it, because he thought you should.

"I uhm, I don't know what to say..."

"A kiss is enough."

You chuckled and pulled him for a sweet kiss. You felt his stupid, proud smile against your lips.

"Thank you so much. I love you," you mumbled. "You didn't really have to do this."

"But I wanted to. You fucking deserve it," the palm of his hand caressed your cheek, his thumb brushing on your skin lovingly as his eyes admired your beauty being so close to him. The usage of his words made you smile and he started teasing. "Ah, there it is."

His lips left kisses on your cheek, down your jawline until he kissed the skin on your neck, making you giggle a little and gasp out.

"Stop it, did you have dinner already?" you asked, pushing him away playfully. There was a lustful spark in his eyes and your body ached for him after being apart for so long.

Butcher crashed his lips against yours again, like a hungry man. Slowly, you were laying down on the couch with his help. His strong body over yours as he tasted the wine on your lips with a low moan. Your hands were on the back of his neck, and you let him press his hips against your own, spreading your legs.

"I rather have you as a my main dish," he growled once you pulled away from the kiss.

"Great. I can't wait."

[siriusblacksbxtch]

I'm in love with your dean x male reader smuts- is there any way you could do a pretty extreme dom!dean sub!male reader with any combination (your choice) of the following kinks?: gun play, bondage, choking, knife/blood play, oral fixation, stalking/cnc/kidnapping, religious play, spit sexual fighting (like slapping, punching, etc.) , violence/gore, demon!dean, edging/teasing begging, sub not being able to form words, degrading and praise- and could you include specific terms? like pretty boy, good boy, kitty, slut, bitch, whore, dumb, and easy for the sub and for dean just simple stuff like sir, dean, stuff similar. I'm writing you a book I'm so sorry bjfjd I just have a really hard time finding male reader smut as good as yours that suit my kinks 😭😭 I also love a good sub!dean dom!male reader and the kinks and names I provided earlier would suit a fic like that too!! thank you sm for reading this NOVEL jdjsjs i hope you have a great day- aaaaand if you're not comfortable writing something with such extreme kinks I completely understand, I just thought I'd ask cause I love your work!! xoxo 💞💞💞

A/N: everybody kiss this requester on the mouth I demand it/ I wish I did better but I did what I could! I hope you still like it!

Pairings: Demon!Dean x male!reaader

Warnings: unholy, seriously.

Summary: Demon!Dean had been around for too long, and he looked much too like your boyfriend

You glared across the kitchen at the flannel wearing monster. Oh you hated him. Hated him bad, wearing your beautiful Dean’s face to be an absolute fucking psycho.

Sam had come to terms he’d be sticking around until they found a cure, but you couldn’t stomach it. It made you so goddamned mad.

Like right now in your own home glaring invisible lasers into his head as he sat across from Sam eating food like he was normal.

“(Y/N),” Sam sighed with a conflicted look. “It’s nothing new.”

“Better get used to it, baby boy.” Dean, or not Dean, or whatever— gave you a devilish grin.

“Oh, both of you fuck off. I can’t standing seeing his disgusting ass every second.”

“This disgusting ass can remember some pretty nasty images of you as well.” The demon lowly chuckled as you flushed red, Sam looking down at the table to avoid the conversation.

“Fuck you, psycho.” You rolled your eyes, stomping to your room and slamming the door. You kicked the metal irritably muttering curses under your breath as you pulled off your shirt.

You were hot, nearly feeling as though you were sweating from the interaction. You hated him, god more then you thought you could, walking around with your boyfriends face and just about everything that made him an asshole.

“Let me get this straight—”

“God!” You let out a gasp as you clutched your heart, turning to face the very demon himself.

“Not God,” he smirked. “Just me (Y/N).”

“No shit, what the hell do you want?”

Before you could move for your shirt he stepped closer, walking you back into the wall until your chests were touching.

“What do I want?” Dean laughed, his hot breath hitting your face. “I want to know why you could bend over like a bitch—” His eyes flashed black— “Before I got these babies.”

You swallowed harshly at the words, staring into the abyss of black.

“You used to be so good for me.” He began rubbing at your crotch, you breath hitching in your throat as you tried to look anywhere else.

“You’re not—”

“But I am,” he hissed before you could finish. “I’m still Dean. The Dean who would sleep next to you, fuck you til you cried baby.”

You once again shuttered at the thought, cheeks growing hotter as he continued to palm you through your jeans.

“The one who knows how secretly bad you’ve wanted something like this.”

At that you shoved him back, swinging a fist into his jaw and slamming him into the wall across from you.

He punched you straight back, pushing you onto the bed and swinging his fist again for good measure.

You could taste the blood on your teeth as he grinned down at you, moving his hips down to meet yours as a strangled moan left your lips.

“Quit trying to fight it and be a good boy.”

“Fuck you,” you sighed out.

He backhanded you, grabbing your jaw in a stone clutch, moving so his lips pressed against yours.

“I know how bad you want it, (Y/N). Stop fighting.” With that he pulled back slamming his lips into yours.

You couldn’t help but pull him closer, missing his soft lips and strong build.

As soon as it started it seemed to be over, Dean pulling off your pants and flipping you over before you could even process.

“See how good things go when you’re a good boy?” A strangled gasp left you as his hand slammed down on your ass cheek. He did it once again with enough strength to cause you to move forward. “You just love being my little slut?”

Dean’s low chuckled filled the air along with the sound of his hand coming down on your ass.

“Fuck,” you were struggling not to be a drooling mess at this point, Dean flipping you around again to face him.

“You ready to stop being a little bitch and be a good boy, (Y/N).”

You stared into his black eyes finding what you used to despise all too intriguing as you finally gave a stiff nod.

“No, no,” he chuckled lowly as he ran a hand over your torso. “You are a pretty boy, but your mouth,” he whistled lowly. “We gotta make up for all that ugly talk, baby boy.”

Dean pulled you by your hair, and you let him, shoving you roughly to your knees as he undid his belt.

“Open.” Came the cold voice, much less playful than he had been when he entered your room.

You did so, opening wide as he slid his dick into the back of your throat, a soft sigh escaping as he did so.

“Jesus, slut.” Dean’s moan was like music to your ears, the demon grabbing your hair roughly as he moved you up and down on his dick.

“You act so tough now I get it,” came his devilish laugh, “you’ve been so worked up because I haven’t used you like the dumb whore that you are.”

You moaned around him at this words, his movement suddenly slowing as he pulled you forward and rested his dick down your throat.

“Acting like a whiny bitch when all you wanted was me back in your bed.” Tears and drool began to escape you, struggling to breathe on his dick.

The sight seemed to amuse Dean, you felt his dick growing in your throat as you struggled.

“All you had to not do was be a whiny slut, and instead here you are choking.”

You began to try to pull off, but he held you there a few seconds long before pulling you back into a wet kiss.

“You gonna be a good boy now, (Y/N).”

His black eyes poured into yours and instead of hatred all you felt was desire.

“Yes—”

Dean smacked you hard, pulling you close by the jaw as he bit on your lip and pulled, a hand going to your throat to squeeze roughly.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.” You breathed shakily. “Please.”

He grinned as he flipped you back onto the bed, hovering over you as your chest rapidly began to rise and fall.

“Please what, pretty boy?”

“Please,” you whined. “Please, fuck me. I’ve wanted it for so long please, Dean.”

His arrogant smile never left his face as he spit into his hand, the other going to squeeze around your neck. Dean shoved his fingers into you, loving the way you squirmed around him, trying to moan but nothing coming out from the force of his hand.

“Cant have Sammy hear us. Can we dumb whore?”

You only tried to moan more as he worked you open, then suddenly without warning he flipped you over and pressed at your entrance.

“You want me to fuck you, baby.”

“Yes sir, please.” You were trembling at this point, wanting nothing more than for him to fuck you into the mattress so hard you couldn’t walk.

“Not very convincing for a needy whore,” he sighed teasingly.

“Please, Dean. I need you to fuck me, please. I need it so bad—”

A low moan escaped you as he suddenly pushed in, grabbing the back of your hair to control his thrusts as he set a fast pace.

Dean’s hand slammed down on your ass once again, a whiny moan escaping you as you felt him stretch you open.

“You gonna be a good boy now, or do I need to remind you who you belong to all the time?”

“A-All the time,” you muttered out between gasps. “Need this all the time.”

Dean laughed grabbing your hips to pull you back even harder as your moans only grew.

“Say you’re my whore,” Dean grunted as his pace began to falter.

“Yours. All yours, Dean. All the time.”

With a final hard thrust, and another smack to your ass, you felt the demon finish deep inside you, as you did on the sheets below.

You were gasping for air, tears of pleasure gathering in the corners of your eyes. You slowly turned to meet Dean, a shit eating grin always seeming to appear on his face.

“What?” You snapped with an angry glare, a flush of embarrassment falling over you.

However, Dean leaned forward pulling you into another warm kiss.

“Been wanting to do that since I got here pretty boy.”

[nathaslosthershit]

Stupidly Charming (CL16) [AoM Part 2]

Part 1: Audacity of Man Summary: Charles was never anything but a compassionate and wonderfully loving boyfriend. You always used to brag about how attentive he was... I guess this is karma?

You had tried to distract yourself, not get angry or upset over the fact that Charles had most likely forgotten your anniversary.

It was still early in the day, he could surprise you, or make up for the fact he forgot.

But hours went by of radio silence from the Ferrari driver. You couldn’t really blame him, even if he remembered your anniversary, you knew he wouldn’t be able to drop everything at work to text or call you.

Still you had hoped for something. 

“Fuck him! What an idiotic asshole, especially after you made him breakfast.” Your friend said as you caught her up on the situation. “Get upset! Get angry! If the second he gets home he isn’t on his hands and knees begging for forgiveness, be the biggest bitch to him you have ever been.”

“That seems extreme…”

“Fuck extreme, fuck him! Get angry, fight, and then have the best makeup sex of your life.”

That you could do.

“Honey! Oh how I missed you” Charles said as he opened the door and saw you on the couch, pretending to read a book you had given up on actually paying attention to a while ago. You were still too upset.

You didn’t answer him. You even scoffed as he didn’t seem to recognize your silent treatment, just planting a kiss on your cheek and going to change.

What an asshole.

“Did you think about what you wanted for dinner?” He asked as he returned.

Again, silence.

“I was hoping to try out that new place that opened up down the street, heard it has amazing desserts.” 

Still nothing. 

“Baby? Did you hear me?”

…

“Are you okay?” He sat down next to you. A look of realization appeared on his face as he saw your frown. Finally, he was remembering. 

“Oh honey, I am sorry I had to leave today when I knew you wanted to hang out. I wanted to as well, you know I did. Hours in the simulator and all I could think about was coming home to my beautiful girlfriend, the person I am most excited to spend the rest of my life with.” Nevermind, he still didn't remember. But dammit as he hugged your waist and pulled your face towards him to plant kisses everywhere, you couldn’t fight off the laugh that left your mouth. He was stupid but he was charming. Stupidly charming. 

“There she is,” he said looking at the smile now on your face, much to your dismay. “How about I order from that new place, I’ll get all the things on the menu I know we’ll like so we can try them all.”

“Charles, that's an expensive amount of food for no reason.”

“No it isn’t, not when it is for you. You better get used to it, you are being spoiled for the rest of your life.” he walked away to order and you tried hard to remember why you were mad in the first place.

Right, your anniversary. But was it even fair to blame him? He was busy with work and while you wished he would prioritize you a little more, he always made sure to make up for it, to make you feel as loved as possible. 

You were halfway to forgiving him when he came back into the living room, an apologetic look across his face. “I have to jump on a call, could you go pick up the food, my love?” Nevermind, even when making up for being busy because of work, he was too busy because of work to make up for it. 

“Fine.” Was all you said as you got up, the frown back on your face as you grabbed your stuff and left, ignoring his calls and apologies behind you. 

If that hadn’t put you in a bad mood, then the whole ordeal around picking up the food did.

“I am so sorry, ma’am. It will only be a little longer, we weren’t expecting this much business so fast!” The lady behind the hostess stand said.

It wasn’t her fault of course, but it didn’t help your mood. Still you tried to keep it together as you waited 45 minutes to pick up food that should have been ready the moment you got there.

You even kept it together as you realized you had forgotten your keys to the apartment inside, so you had to call Charles to let you in. But after a few insistent knocks on the door, and a few missed calls, you finally broke down. Maybe it was dramatic, leaning on the door as you sat on the ground, crying, but fuck that. You were upset, and upset you were going to remain. Still, it took a few minutes for Charles to come to the door.

“Ah, I am so sorry love I was on the phone and didn't see your-” He was rambling excuses the second he opened the door but stopped when he saw you on the ground, a mess of tears and snot. “Honey, what is wrong? Oh my love I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to leave you out here so long, and I didn’t know that the restaurant would be such a mess.” He kneeled in front of you as he wiped away your tears.

“It's not that-or not just that. It's everything Charles, this wasn’t how today was supposed to go-”

“I know, my love, I’m sorry I was-”

“No, you don’t understand. Charles, it's our anniversary, and I spent so long thinking of things we could do today to make it special, but nothing happened and it just got worse and worse till I couldn't hold it in anymore. I just- you didn’t even remember and everytime I tried to tell myself it was okay to be upset or angry, you would be so sweet that I couldn’t justify it-” You couldn’t even finish as sobs racked your body. 

Though, you paused when you heard Charles let out a low laugh. You looked up at him, but he wasn’t smiling or laughing at you, tears streaming down his face confirming as much. It was more of a pitiful laugh. 

“I knew this was a stupid plan. There were too many ways it could backfire.”

Before you could question what he meant, he picked up the food in one hand and reached for you with the other. You hesitated.

“Do you trust me?” he asked. Even though you were upset, you took his hand and stood up. Of course you trusted him. 

Your eyes widened as you saw the state of your apartment. Candles lit and spread around, balloons and streamers nicely framing your table that had been set up with a white table cloth, your nicest plates and glasses atop it, and a beautiful, large bouquet of flowers.

“I wanted to make tonight special. I had planned on making the entire day special, but when I had to leave I came up with a plan to make up for me being gone.” He looked at you, waiting for your reaction, he looked… embarrassed? “It was stupid, to pretend I forgot about our anniversary, I wasn’t going to but when I realized I hadn’t said anything, too caught up in the fact I was being taken away from you, I thought I would pretend so I could surprise you. I didn’t have a call, I just needed time to get this ready but after you left upset and then had to deal with all the problems at the restaurant, I began to panic, so much so that I didn’t hear your knocks and didn’t see you had called.” 

You started crying again, alarming Charles. “I know it was stupid, I shouldn’t have done it, I didn’t think it through I’m-” you kissed him, hard.

He was an idiot, such a fucking idiot, but he was yours, and for all of his bad moments, you knew he loved you so much. 

You two finally pulled away, that's when you realized he was shaking, a lot. 

“Charlie?”

“I- I had a whole speech. I worked on it for months. In the shower, in the car, during free practice last weekend it's all I could think of actually, that's why I got yelled at by my engineer.” he laughed, turning red at the memory. “I wanted to talk about how much I love you, how much I don’t deserve you, that I know it's so hard to have my job continually come in the way, but you will always be first, my love, even if it doesn’t feel like it. And I want to spend the rest of my life working to deserve you and your love. I want to spend forever making you feel just as happy as you make me.” Had tears not been blocking your vision, you'd have seen him reach for the box in his pocket.

But it wasn’t until he got down on one knee that you realized what he was doing. And before he could ask the question, you tackled him to the ground. 

The soft carpet luckily kept Charles’ head from hitting the ground hard. You didn’t care, he didn’t care, too busy giggling in between kisses as you both rolled on the ground. Once you two had calmed down and sat up, he slipped the ring onto your finger. “The ring is beautiful, Charlie, but this isn’t how I expected getting proposed to.” you teased as the two of you wiped tears away and tried to fix your messy hair from rolling around.

“It wasn’t how I thought I would propose, but if it ends in getting to spend the rest of my life with you, then I don’t care too much.”

So stupidly charming.

[masonmyluv]

Birthday present - Pedri Gonzalez

A/N: A little something I wrote for his bday🤭 Happy birthday to this cutie aka Pedri Potter Gonzalez Lopez 💙🎉

Warnings: smut 18+ 🔞🔞🔞

"Pablo, I told you I don't want to celebrate"

"But it's your birthday!"

"We have an important game tomorrow" Pedri said. "So? We should at least sing you happy birthday" Pablo said, dragging Pedri inside the locker room. Pablo double-checked your text earlier, saying that you landed safely and were about to pick the cake.

"Happy birthday!!!" Everyone yelled when Pedri entered the room. "Yeah thanks guys" he smiled. "Happy birthday my guy" Ferran said, hugging him. "W-what..." Pedri was at loss of words when he noticed you behind Ferran's back. "Surprise" you giggled. "How... you..." he was at loss of words as he pulled you into a tight hug. "I feel betrayed" Ferran joked. "Missed you" Pedri whispered into your neck. "Missed you too, my love" you said, pecking his lips. "Happy" kiss "birthday" kiss "to the best" kiss "boyfriend" kiss "in the world" kiss.

"Okay get a room" Ferran shouted. "You brought cake?" Pedri asked. "Yes, and everyone is allowed to eat" Xavi said, already on his second slice, which he thought no one saw, but you did. Hehe. Everyone sat down, eating cake, all except Pedri. He was looking at you and playing with your fingers. "You okay? The cake is really good" you said, mouth full of cake. "Yeah... just happy you're here" he said, kissing the top of your head. "You don't seem really happy" Pablo butted in. "Tomorrow I'll be at the game wearing your t-shirt" you whispered. "And tomorrow I'll give you the other present" you added so that no one could hear. "Now he's smiling" Pablo smirked. "I wonder what you told him". "Nothing" Pedri replied too fast. "Mhm" Pablo said. You shot him a look, but couldn't be mad at him. After all, he was the one who helped you plan the surprise for your boyfriend, so you were thankful to have a friend like him.

—— day of the game ——

"Good luck, guapo" you whispered, kissing him passionately. "Mhm... don't want to let you go" he said, hands squeezing your ass. "Get a room" Ferran shouted. "I promise. Tonight" you said, pecking his lips again. Little did he know you will be busy that night, but not in the sexy way.

After the game, in which he scored, you were on your way to his place. "Are you okay? You don't seem that excited after a goal" you asked. You knew something was wrong with him since you kissed him after the game. Usually, he would talk you through the whole game, but now he was surprisingly quiet. "No, sorry, I really am. But..." he said. "I wish my parents were here. And Fer. He didn't even wish me happy birthday" he said and you could cry in that moment, telling him that they were waiting for him at home. "Oh Pedri, I'm sure he will" you said, texting Fer that you were on the way. This man, this man right here made your ovaries explode at how much he cared about his family. "I wish they were at the game too. Together with you. Supporting me. But they said they were too busy to fly here" he said thought greeted teeth. You bit your tongue, not wanting to ruin the surprise, but he was making it hard. Fucking ovaries, slow down. "They said they'll come in the weekend, no?" You asked. "Yeah, but it's not the same thing" he said defeated, parking the car. "Hey... look at me. It's your birthday and they love you, I'm sure they have something for you" you said, pecking his lips. "I hope you're right".

"Sorpresaaaa!!!"

Pedri remained like a statue in the door when he saw his family inside his house. "Don't you think we forgot about your birthday, you fucking idiot!" Fer said, hugging his brother. "You're an idiot" he repeated, fighting his little brother. Pedri then went to hug his parents. "If it wasn't for Y/N..." Fer said, bringing his attention back to you. "It was her idea. All this. And we were her accomplices" Fer grinned. Pedri ran to hug you tightly, whispering just how much he loves you. "I love you too, guapo. Now, let's celebrate" you said as Fer handed you a glass of champagne.

You talked with his mom about the match, then Pedri was curious how they couldn't make it to the game. Their flight got delayed, but you had this brilliant idea to wait for him home. "Wow... my girlfriend is really special, isn't she?" Pedri said, kissing the top of your head. "And now she'll say oh no, I didn't do anything" Ferran said, imitating your voice. "Hey!" You pouted, but still laughed at his joke.

"Hey! Where is the birthday boy?" Ferran asked after you had dinner. The birthday boy was sucking his girlfriend's face in the kitchen. "Tell me they aren't sleeping here" Pedri asked, sucking on your neck. "No. They're staying at Fer. Be patient, Pedri" you said, pushing him away. "I want you, amor" he whispered. "I know. I want to properly wish you a happy birthday too" you said, hugging him. "Ah he's here, where else he could be?" Fer said, seeing your flushed faces. "Slow down, cabron. We'll leave in a minute" Fer said. You bid your goodbyes to his family, promising to have breakfast with them in the city. "If you won't be busy" Fer winked before the left.

"Finally" Pedri said, hungrily kissing you. "Pedri... stop" you said, pushing him away. "What? Did I do something?" He asked panicked. "No, I just want to properly give you my present" you giggled, taking his hand and running to your shared bedroom. "Just wait here and be naked" you winked before disappearing into the bathroom to put on the new set of lingerie you bought special for this occasion. Meanwhile, Pedri undressed himself until his boxers, impatiently waiting for you. "You ready?" You asked from the bathroom. "Yeah..." he replied instantly.

"Fuck baby... I could come in my pants right now" he groaned, as you cat walked to him, pushing him down on the mattress. "What do you like more, Papi?" You asked, pulling his boxers down and eyeing him up and down. "Fuck me" he groaned as you sat on his thigh. "What do you like, Papi?". "Those panties, princess. I can feel you dripping on me" he smirked and you blushed. "Let me make you feel good, papi" you said, kneeling in front of him. "You wanna suck me? Come get it" he smirked as you lowered your lips to brush against his tip. He shuddered as you lips wrapped around him. "Looks so good princess. My cock into your pretty mouth" he said. When he hit the back of your throat, you both let out a moan. "Fuck baby... just like that" he praised, fucking your face. Your nails dug into his thighs, leaving marks behind, but he didn't care. He wanted you to mark him up for everyone to see.

"Let me give you your present Papi" you pouted when he pulled out of your mouth. "Wanna come inside your pussy, baby. Now lay back and relax" he said, dipping his head into your core. "But Papi, it's supposed to be about you tonight" you moaned as he pleasured you with his tongue. "It's also about you, mi amor" he said. "Giving me, hm, let's say, 5 orgasms" he said. "It's too much, Papi" you moaned, already close to the first one. "I know you can. You're my good girl" he said, sucking harshly on your clit, triggering your orgasm. "Fuck Pedri..." you moaned when he pushed a finger inside. "So sweet for me, love" he praised, seeing how you closed your eyes in pleasure when he added another finger into your hole. "F-fuck..." you moaned again, his fingers brushing your G-spot. "Orgasm number 2 incoming" he chuckled as you rode his fingers and came.

"Papi please fuck me" you said as he teased your hole with the tip of his dick. "I'll fuck you so good, baby... you won't be able to walk tomorrow" he said. "Good thing you have the day free" you said as he pushed all the way in. "So tight and warm" he praised, moving a little to test the waters. But after two orgasms, you were more than ready to take him, so he thrusted harder. While he fucked your cunt, he suck on your breasts, pleasuring your hardening nipples while you were a moaning mess. "Orgasm number 3... let go, love" he said and you moaned louder as you came on his dick. He pulled out, waiting for you to regain your breath before flipping you on your stomach. "Pepi... can't" you whined as he helped you on all fours. "I know you can" he said, harshly slapping your ass. "You're my good good girl" he said, plunging himself back into you. You moaned, over sensitive, his dick feeling much deeper as he fucked you from behind. "Papi... fuck..." you moaned as he continued slapping your ass. "Take it like a good girl" he groaned and you could feel his breath on your neck. "You're doing so good for the birthday boy" he praised, pressing a kiss to your ear. "Only for you, Pedri" you moaned, feeling another orgasm coming. "Yes, baby, only I can fuck you like this" he groaned as he felt you clenching again. "Let go when you're ready, love" he whispered. You cried as you came and he spilled himself into you, breathing heavily. He didn't pull out right away and you knew why. You squirted all over him, your wetness dripping down your legs. He finally pulled away, helping you on your back as you were too embarrassed of what just happened. "I'm... I'm sorry" you shuttered, seeing what a mess you made on the bed. "Love, hey... that's the best present you could've given me" he said, pecking your lips. "I'm helping you clean yourself yeah?" He asked and you nodded, him bringing a wet cloth to wipe everything off.

"The best present ever" he said as you laid your head on his chest. "Happy birthday, Pedri. Love you so much" you yawned. "Love you too, baby. You still have to give me one orgasm, so don't forget about that" he chuckled. "Of course, Pepi. But I have to rest, you know" you said, blushing. "I know" he smirked. "Night Pepi" you said, falling asleep on his chest as he played with your hair. "Night, love" he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

— next morning —

"Mhmm Pedri" you moaned as his head was between your legs again. "Pedri!" "What?" He asked. "We had to have breakfast with your parents" you said as he continued pleasuring you with his tongue. "I'm having my breakfast right now" he smirked, licking your wetness. "Fuck... we'll go after this" you moaned. "If you're able to walk, love" he grinned. "Pedri... fuck" you moaned as you came on his face. "And that's the fifth orgasm. You're welcome" he grinned, hugging you. "Te amo, Papi" you whispered. "Still want to go?" He asked. "No" you yawned, cuddling into his chest. "Good. Prepare for a lot of teasing from Ferran" he laughed. "I don't care when I have you" you mumbled. "I know. Me neither. Plus, he's jealous he ain't got a chick in his bed" he joked. "Good thing you have" you replied. "I have a girlfriend and that's even better" he said, pecking your lips.

Hope you like it 🩷

[hischiershoe]

𝐀𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬 | 𝐋𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬

word count: 2.5k

summary: it’s your turn to choose, and you just hope that you made the right choice.

warnings: angst, reader is kinda ‘pick me choose me’ but it’s okay, kissing, unedited as usual

part one

Luke broke up with his girlfriend the day after you left. Gave her some half-assed excuse of his life being too busy with hockey, but she knew the truth, and she didn’t fault him for it. He wanted to reach out to you, to call you, to text you, but he was smart enough to know it wasn’t a good idea. After the things he said to you and the way he undoubtedly made you feel, he knew you needed space away from him. How much space was the question that he didn’t know the answer to.

The first text you’d gotten from Luke was a simple ‘I’m sorry’ a week after you’d left that day. You were in class when it came through, and all you could do was stare at the message. You didn’t know what to do, and you couldn’t focus on the rest of the lecture, so you retreated to your apartment for the day and left the text unanswered. You opted to not tell Sage about the text, especially because she thought you had blocked him already.

The next text you got from him was the following day, and it was significantly longer than his previous one. He explained how sorry he was, how he had broken up with his girlfriend, how he wishes he could take it all back and have you in his life again, how he missed you. You didn’t respond to that one either, though you really wanted to, but he had hurt you. Luke had caused you the most heart stopping pain you’d ever felt in your life, and you needed to get rid of those feelings before you accepted him back as a part of your life.

Luke texted you every day now, telling you how sorry he was and he wasn’t going to give up on you so easily this time unless you explicitly told him not to. You never texted him and told him no, so he took that as an open invitation. The more time went on, the more descriptive his texts got and they started to chip away at the wall you had built between the two of you. There was one text you’d gotten from him that said he loved you, and if you didn’t know better, based on the context of the rest of the message, you would’ve thought he meant he was in love with you.

The one time you had texted Luke back, it was for selfish reasons and with the hope that it would make him a teeny bit mad. It was childish and immature, you knew that, but you couldn’t help it. It was the first time he’d worked up the courage to ask to see you, and you had texted him back saying that you couldn’t. Because you had a date that night. Luke’s heart fell to his stomach as he read the message over and over again.

“Jack,” Luke called out as he barged into his brother's room, “She’s going on a date. I told her that I love her, and she’s going on a date. What the fuck do I do?”

Jack sat on his bed, phone in hand as he glared at his brother. Ever since he got home that day and asked what had happened, Jack’s been pissed at his brother. He was an idiot who ruined the best thing that had ever happened to him, and Jack had no sympathy for that.

“Nothing,” He shrugged, gaze darting back to his phone as he scrolled through social media, “You do nothing, Luke. You fucked up. Bad. Now you have to deal with the consequences.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Luke scoffed, “I was hoping for some advice.”

“What do you want me to say, dude,” Jack angrily spoke, throwing his phone next to him, “That it’ll be okay? That you’ll get her back? Well, honestly I don’t think you should get her back. You don’t deserve her, Luke. She did everything for you. She was there for you anytime you needed her. She fucking chose you no matter what and you went and fucked that up for some girl you don’t even really know! I love you and I always will, but you don’t fucking deserve her forgiveness after the shit you did.”

While Luke was kicked out his brothers room, you were busy getting ready for your date that Sage was forcing you to go on. She claimed that he was a nice guy, a breath of fresh air after everything that had happened with Luke. You agreed to go, but told her that you would be driving yourself in case you weren’t feeling it and wanted to leave early. She, reluctantly, agreed to the terms and sent you on your way once you were ready.

About halfway through your drive to the restaurant, you realized that you were going the complete wrong direction. You were driving towards Luke’s apartment without even meaning to, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to turn around. The twisted part of your brain was telling you this was a sign, that you should give him a chance and talk to him, that maybe the two of you could give what had been broken between you. The logical part of your brain was telling you to turn around, go to the restaurant and forget that Luke Hughes ever existed. You weren’t sure what to do, but then you found yourself standing outside of his apartment door.

You stared at the door, your heart and mind waging the ultimate war within you. The urge to turn around and walk away dwindled by the second. You wanted to see him so you could yell at him, to tell him how badly he hurt you. You wanted to see if he missed you as much as you missed him, so you knocked on the door. If Jack was the one who answered, you were going to take that as a sign that Luke was gone for good, but it seemed as if fate was on your side.

Luke swung the door open, the greeting he had dying in his tongue when he saw you standing in front of him. You glared at him as you racked your brain for the angry speech you had planned out, but you were coming up empty now. Only one phrase on your mind as you were harshly brought back to the memories of that day in Luke’s room. The day he chose someone else over you.

“I hate you,” You tried to keep your voice steady, but it wavered as your bottom lip wobbled.

Luke didn’t know what to say as you stood in front of him in the outfit he assumed was for your date. Your eyes were lined with uncried tears, glassy and broken as they bore into his own. He felt his heart shatter inside of his chest when he noticed that the necklace he had gotten you for your sixteenth birthday and had worn ever since, was missing from your neck.

“I know,” Luke finally breathed out as he took every inch of you in like it was going to be the last time he was going to see you. To him, he thought it was going to be.

“I hate you,” You repeated, voice barely above a whisper as tears spilled over onto your cheeks. You felt pathetic for breaking so easily, but the plan you had to scream and yell at him went out the window the second you saw him in front of you.

“I know,” He swallowed thickly, hand twitching towards you, aching to pull you close, “I’m so sorry.”

“Why am I not worth choosing,” You sobbed as your gaze fell to the ground and you hugged your arms to your body.

In an instant, Luke was pulling you into his apartment, and into his arms. He held you as you cried into his chest, your tears soaking through his shirt, but he didn’t care. He rubbed circles in your back, not sure what the fuck he was supposed to say to you right now. He’d thought about this moment ever since you left two months ago, but now that you were right in front of him, he was clueless.

While Luke’s arms were holding you close, yours remained wrapped around yourself as sobs tore through your body. You wanted to reach out and never let him go, but you were scared and hurt. After what he’d done, you were afraid to let any part of him back in. You couldn’t go through that pain all over again; you’re not sure you would make it out this time.

Luke was glad that Jack was gone for the afternoon, off doing who knows what with who knows who. He knows that if he saw you crying in Luke’s arms, Jack would give him another earful of words he’s heard for the last two months. He didn’t want to hear how he didn’t deserve you or your forgiveness because he knew that he didn’t, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t been clinging onto hope. Hope was the only thing getting him through the day.

“I hate you so much,” You whispered, voice thick with emotion as you finally wound your arms around his waist.

Luke pulls you closer into his chest, tears of his own falling down on his cheeks as he listens to how broken you sound. He wants to say that he hates himself too, that he hates what he did to you, but he doesn’t want to make it about himself. At the end of the day, the way he felt was his own doing. He ruined your friendship and shut you out. He hurt himself.

“I’m so sorry,” Luke mumbled your name as if it was the most delicate thing in the entire world, “I’m sorry I hurt you. If I could— If I could take it all back I would. I would change everything if I could. But, I just— I don’t know what to do.”

“Tell me I’m worth choosing,” You begged, grasping at his shirt, “Or at least tell me why I'm not.”

Luke pulls away from you, but keeps his hands on your biceps as he looks at you. His cheeks are red and eyes heavy, but his face is serious. He’s sporting the same look he had when he forced you to listen to him tell you how much your ex boyfriend didn’t deserve you and how amazing you are.

“Listen to me, okay,” He started, his voice shaky and hesitant, “You are worth choosing, Y/N. In fact, you were always my only choice. You always have been, but that’s why I did what I did. I’m so fucking sorry I let you walk away that day. It was the worst mistake of my life, but I thought I was doing the right thing.”

“I don’t understand,” You shook your head, “Why would cutting me off be the right thing? Do you not want me in your life anymore?”

Panic bubbled in your chest as you let your mind run rampant with anxious thoughts. Regret in the form of bile rose in your throat, the desire to turn around and run away creeping back up. Your hands began to shake, an action Luke was quick to pick up on as he let go of your arms to capture them in his own.

“That’s not what I’m saying, I promise,” He softly reassured as he rubbed circles on the back of your hand with his thumb, “I thought it was the right thing because I thought it would help me move on. I’ve loved you since we were fifteen and I knew you didn’t feel the same way, so I thought choosing someone else would help me do that. Obviously, I was wrong.”

Your jaw went slack and your glassy eyes widened, your heart beating against your chest as you listened to him. It felt too good to be true; Luke admitting that he loved you the same way you loved him. It almost felt like you were dreaming, like you’d finally clawed your way out of the nightmarish reality that has been your life.

Luke felt like he was about to pass out the longer he sat with your silence surrounding him. He knew that confessing his feelings was a risky move given everything that had happened, but he needed you to know. He was hoping and praying that you felt the same, or that you’d at least welcome him back into your life as your friend again.

“You were wrong,” You swallowed the lump in your throat, “I did feel the same way about you.” Luke felt his heart fall to his feet. “I do still, but, Luke, you hurt me. I can’t just look past that. I’m not saying I can’t ever get over it, but it’ll take time.”

Without a second thought, Luke’s pulling you into his chest and wrapping his arms around you. Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck as you bury your face into his chest, taking in the way he felt against you. While you were still upset with him, there was no better feeling than in his embrace. It was always where you felt safest, and you hoped that that feeling would come back with time. Though, a small part of you was telling you it never left.

“I will do whatever it takes to earn your trust back,” Luke mumbled into the crook of your neck, “I love you, and I will spend my life proving that to you.”

“Luke,” You pulled away, eyes wide and pleading, “I don’t care if this is too soon, but can you please kiss m—”

He didn’t let you finish your sentence before crashing his lips onto your own. He pulled you into him by your waist as your hands moved up to tangle in his hair. Luke moved his mouth against yours, tasting the salt from both of your tears as he slipped his tongue into yours. It was a tangled mess of emotions as the two of you pushed against each other, but it was perfect.

After five years of what the two of you thought was unrequited love, you expected nothing short of desperation and yearning. You poured your entire being into the kiss, and by the way Luke was holding you like you would disappear, you knew he was too. The last time you were in the Hughes’ apartment, you felt like your entire world was collapsing below your feet. Now, you felt the world around you rise again and it was even more beautiful than before.

[berabee-writes]

the devil's plaything

authors note: this is my first ever fan fic, i've wanted to get back into writing for a while so i just thought fuck it i'll try it out. im very new to the community, so feedback & constructive criticism are appreciated. enjoy!

warning: light language, slow burn?, eventual toxic dynamics.

part one.

Friday ~ 

Nate Jacobs. The captain of our highschools football team. To some he’s a respected, confident, and charming guy. To others (specifically women) he is known as the absolute definition of toxic.

He’ll do anything to get what he wants. He might not seem like it from the outside looking in, but Nate Jacobs is strategic, he's calculated, and self aware. He knows exactly what he's doing and what he has to do to get it.

A smart girl like me should know to stay far, far away. Right?

Trust me that this was not my doing, I never wanted Nate. I never even wanted the idea of a guy like Nate.

But here I am on a friday night in Nate. Fucking. Jacobs. pickup truck.

We should probably rewind a bit.

Monday ~ 

I woke up today feeling different. Something was off. At first I blamed it on lack of sleep, but I was wrong.

I got ready for school regardless. It was a warm day so I wore my favorite dark green tank top and some denim shorts, I slicked my hair back into a ponytail and started doing my makeup.

I walked downstairs, made some toast for breakfast and left for school. But as hard as I tried, I couldn’t shake this feeling that something horrible was going to happen to me.

I blasted fleetwood mac on my drive to school, a good way to start the day. 

Class was boring per usual, I actually tried to pay attention today just to push away this sense of dread in my stomach.

Relief washed over me after the second period. Lunch, finally. I was starving for two things, food and my friends.

I was making my way through the halls to the cafeteria when I physically bumped into the devil himself. 

I mumbled a quick “sorry” and was met with a death stare.

They say looks can kill but have they ever seen a minorly inconvenienced Nate Jacobs? God I did not want to see him actually mad. 

“Watch it.” he warned under his breath. 

Did I not immediately say sorry on impact? Ugh whatever, I rolled my eyes and kept walking. What's his problem?

Maybe I inherited the mom gene of “eyes in the back of my head” or maybe it's this sense of impending doom I've felt all day but I could've sworn he was still watching me.

I looked back before I turned into the cafeteria and there he was down the hall, glaring at me. Ew. Weird. 

The rest of the school day was okay, and my nerves calmed down after eating lunch and talking with my friends. I wish I had told them about my interaction with Nate but it didn't seem important in the moment. Wrong. Again.

I ended up driving straight home after school so I could decompress and catch up on some homework. I took a hot shower and put on some music and layed down on my bed.

 I scrolled through instagram for a while and came across a picture of Nate. I felt that pit in my stomach once again. 

Why was he so intimidating? Why couldn't I help but keep staring at the photo?

I zoomed in on his face. His eyes. Those damn eyes. There was something behind them that I could feel even through the screen.

A coldness that lurked just below the surface. 

Fuck. I accidentally liked it. 

Whatever. It was on his friend's account anyway, it's not like Mckay would tell him. Right? 

Fuck. I put my phone face down on the bed and sighed. Thoughts lingered in my head. Nate Jacobs.

Who is he really? 

Tuesday ~

School was normal, the usual boring classes, lunch with friends and what not.

I glanced at Nate a few times during lunch but he didn't seem to notice me. Good. Maybe yesterday's weirdness was just that.

Weird. Nothing more.

My friends Alissa & Chloe invited me to the mall after school. Cool. Finally something to do in this fucking town.

The mall was the same as always. Fluorescent lights and the faint smell of cheap perfume and pretzels. Yum.

We walked around aimlessly, sipping iced coffees and talking shit about people from school. 

Alissa led us to victoria's secret, determined to find a very specific red lace bra.

I rarely wore bras, but we’d been in the store so long that I even started browsing. I came across a delicate looking baby pink lace bralette. Cute. Simple. Me.

I walked over to them to see if Alissa had found it yet. No luck. 

“Can’t you just get that one?” I pointed over to a red lace bra, desperate to escape.

She shot me a glare. “NO, y/n its not the same!.”

She huffed dramatically and looked over at Chloe who was shuffling through thongs. 

I sighed.

She blinked at us. “What?”.

Classic. Clueless Chloe. 

I knew that if i didn't fake an excuse to leave now i'd be here for another 45 minutes listening to 2016 ariana grande on repeat and would eventually want to blow my brains out.

I pulled out my phone and frowned.

“Ugh, my mom just texted. She needs me to grab something from the store for dinner.”

A lie. A necessary one. 

I checked out at the register, clutching my bag as I made my way out of the mall.

My phone buzzed in my other hand. An actual text from my mom. Distracted, I looked down, reading as I walked– 

Smack. 

I stumbled forward, my phone slipped from my grasp and crashed onto the floor. My bag flew from my hand and I hit the ground hard. 

“Fuck” i muttered, pushing myself up off the ground. My stomach dropped.

I think you can take a wild guess who I bumped into. again. 

You’ve got to be kidding me.

I looked up and met Nate Jacobs' amused stare. He stood there, his head tilting slightly, that ever present smugness tugging at the corner of his lips.

I hated it. His 24/7 around the clock cockiness. 

“You really gotta watch where you’re going.” he said, his voice practically dripping with condescension.

I felt my face go hot when I noticed something pink out of the corner of my eye. My pulse literally pounded in my ears.

Oh, fuck. 

The bralette. My bralette. 

It lay there sprawled across the cold mall floor between us. Just my luck! 

He reached his hand out to help me up from the ground. At least that's what I thought he was doing.

He crouched down, casually plucking it off the floor. He inspected it, his eyes flicking up to mine with that same smug grin.

“This yours?” he said, his tone mockingly polite.

I furrowed my brows and reached for my phone and stood up. 

Nate laughed, like he was amused by my embarrassment and slipped the bralette back into the bag and held it out to me.

“Thanks." I muttered through gritted teeth, snatching the bag from his hand. 

How fucking embarrassing. 

His smirk deepened.

“Anytime sweetheart.”

And just like that, he turned, walking off like nothing happened. 

I stood there confused and frozen in place. Humiliation burned at the back of my throat, but beneath it lurked something darker. Something, I didn't want to name.

Nate Jacobs was toying with me.

And I had no idea why.

[angels-fantasy]

Congratulations on your followers milestone! Can I ask for the prompt "first fight" with Dabi?

Scars and All

Dabi/Touya x Reader

Details/Warnings: lowkey toxic relationship, arguing, kinda angsty LMAO i'm sorry i cant help but make dabi angsty. hurt/comfort i think, angst to fluff? dabi is trying, okay? also dabi is called touya in this fic!

Word Count: 957

hello thank you sm for your ask and the congratulations :) i hope you like this, i really like dabi bc 1) hes hot lol and 2) hes such a well written character. also i'm going to start writing in all lowercase bc its what im used to and upper case drives me crazy!!

loneliness was something that consumed you constantly. it was a scary feeling sometimes, especially because of the things it could drive someone to do.

you wished you didn't feel like this, but you couldn't help it.

before getting into a relationship with touya, you knew of the lifestyle he lived and how much of his time it took up. at first you thought you could handle it, but over time you soon realized that wasn't true. hours of him being gone quickly turned into days, sometimes even weeks and it was driving you crazy. you really wanted to try and continue to sit compliantly and let him do what he wished to do, but you were at your wits end.

sometimes you wondered why you even continued to put up with him, especially when you knew deep down that he'd probably choose to continue committing villainous acts over your relationship.

but you knew the answer to that-it was because you loved him, and sometimes love can make you do crazy things.

so now here you were; sitting on the old couch in your living room. the edges of the fabric having frayed ends and burn marks here and there from the moments touya let his temper get the best of him.

you can't remember how long you've been sitting there anxiously, waiting for your boyfriend to get home, but you felt your heart beat faster when you heard the front door being unlocked.

you wiped your sweaty palms on your pants and took a deep breath, trying to prepare yourself to confront touya, who sighed as he walked through the door and his heavy boots thudding along with each step.

he walked over to you and threw himself down on the couch, placing an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into him. moments like this made it hard to stay mad.

he placed a kiss on your temple, "hey. you miss me?"

you fiddled with your fingers as you leaned further into his chest, "of course i did. i'm glad you're home."

he tilted his head down to look at you, "then how come you don't sound happy, huh?" he asked, squeezing your shoulder as he did so.

you frowned, knowing he'd caught onto your bad mood already. he was way too perceptive sometimes.

"i am happy touya, i promise." you insisted, "it's just..."

"it's just what?"

you sat up from your position and faced him, but it was hard to look him in the eyes. "i just wanted to talk to you about something that's been bothering me."

he looked at you for a moment, expressionless, making you even more nervous until he said, "alright, what is it?"

you took a deep breath.

"you're never home touya, and i miss you." you frowned, "i worry about you and when you're gone for so long i get lonely. i miss spending time with you."

he groaned, "babe, do you not understand why i'm gone? or do i need to tell you, is that it?" he asked.

you regretted this now.

"no, i know why but it's just-"

"if you know why, then why do you fucking ask me?!" he yelled, making you shrink into yourself. you two had bickered over things before and there were even times when you needed space from each other, but touya had never yelled at you like this.

you could feel your eyes prick with tears and the lump in your throat grow, "touya don't yell at me!" you cried.

"i'm yelling at you so you get this through your god damn head!" he snapped, "i can't be here, sitting on my ass like you every fucking day. i have shit i need to do to make my plans happen!"

you gasped at his words. did he really think that's all you did?

"you know damn well i don't just stay at home on my ass, touya! i work too!" you said, tapping his chest with your finger as you pointed it at him.

"i buy the groceries! i make the food! i wash your blood stained clothes! i do everything i can, but you don't know because you're never here!" you yelled, taking a deep breath after so you could continue speaking.

you sighed heavily and spoke softly, your energy gone from yelling. "you're never here touya..." you sniffed, letting the tears run down your cheeks. you brought your hands up to your eyes to wipe them away, "i love you, so i miss you. i just wish you were home more so i don't have to spend my nights all alone."

touya was breathing heavily, but sitting silently as he processed your words. he was perceptive, sure, but he wasn't really good with emotions and dealing with people when they were upset.

feeling guilty, he wrapped his arms around your crying figure and hugged you tightly to his chest. he brought a hand up to your head and stroked it gently, shushing your cries. you stayed like that until your crying had become sniffles with occasional hiccups.

"i'm sorry," he said softly, "i'm sorry i'm always gone. i fucking suck at this, i don't know how to be here for you... but i'm going to do better now, for you, okay? i love you too. i don't say that enough."

you brought your hands away from your face and wrapped your arms around his waist, leaning your head against his beating heart and closing your eyes.

"as long as you try, touya. i know you're not perfect, and that's okay with me. i love you the way you are."

"scars and all?" he asked jokingly, making you giggle.

"scars and all."

authors note

love ya!

[channy111]

ashes and embers

pairing: fred weasley x reader, george weasley x reader (platonic)

word count: 1,950

warnings: suicide (not detailed), ptsd, grief, self blame, emotional trauma, hallucinations

authors note: this is truly something so please proceed with caution

i was never one for giving reassurance. love never came easily to me. when i met fred weasley, that all changed. loving fred was easy, fun even. he was all bright smiles and warm laughs, while i was cold and distant. i’d never cared much for feelings or emotions, but with fred, it was different. he taught me how to love. but now, after the war, he needs reassurance, and i’m not sure how much longer i can hold him together. loving fred used to be effortless, but now it feels like i’m grasping at fragments of who he used to be, trying to keep him whole when i’m barely holding myself together.

before the war, finishing work and coming home to fred was the thing i looked forward to all day. warm hugs, soft kisses, gentle touches. but now, i dread it. i never know who i’ll come home to—my fred, or someone i barely recognize.

this morning, i left before he was awake. by 7:30, i was already out the door. i needed time. fred, who once reassured me after every hard day, was now the reason i needed reassurance. the war took pieces of him, and i would trade anything—my heart, my soul, my life—to get those pieces back. to get him back. but he wasn’t the same. sometimes, it felt like mourning a ghost of fred weasley, even though he was still right there.

flashback:

i can still hear fred’s voice in my head, teasing me. “c’mon, y/n, don’t be such a spoil-sport! live a little!” he’d always say that, like he had no idea how dangerous life really was. he never took anything seriously, always making jokes at the worst times. and at first, i thought he was a fool for it. but then i started seeing the cracks in my own walls. seeing fred, so carefree, was like looking at a version of myself i had buried deep down. maybe i could be like him, carefree, spontaneous, and free from the constant weight of the world. but now, i don’t know if i ever could again.

end of flashback

on my walk home from work, i resolved to try again. fresh mindset. i can help him. he’s still my fred. or so i told myself.

“you’re back late,” he said when i stepped through the door. his voice was low, tense, but the same.

i

can

do

this.

“i’m sorry, baby. work needed me to stay late,” i said softly, almost pleading. “i sent you an owl.”

“who is he?”

“what?”

“don’t play dumb, y/n. i know you’re fucking someone else.”

my heart dropped to my stomach. “freddie, what are you talking about?” my voice cracked. “you’re the only one.”

he stepped closer, his face inches from mine. the man who used to make me feel safe now made me feel like a stranger in my own home. “i don’t believe you.”

i

can

do

this.

“you’ve gone mad,” i said, my words tasting bitter. “i’ve done everything i can to make you happy. how can you not see that? i’ve stood by you, fred. i’ve stood by you through everything. but i’m tired. i’ve been at work all day. goodnight, fred.”

and just like that, another night passed. another night spent wishing i could take his pain away. the silence between us was suffocating, each minute that passed feeling like a thousand.

the next day was the same as all the ones before it—until it wasn’t. when i came home, there was no accusation, no angry words. it was quiet. too quiet.

“freddie?” i called, once. my voice sounded foreign, tentative, like i was calling for a memory rather than a man. no answer.

“freddie, are you home?” nothing.

“fred, i’m sorry about last night, but don’t give me the silent treatment.”

the house was still. my tea sat by the sink, the blanket was ruffled on the couch, my newspaper untouched on the coffee table. everything looked the same. except for fred. fred wasn’t there.

as i approached our bedroom, a sinking sensation clawed at my stomach. it wasn’t just worry—it was dread. a deep, gnawing fear that something had gone horribly wrong. i pulled out my wand and carefully opened the door.

and that’s when i saw him.

no.

no no no no no.

this can’t be real.

the room spun, my vision blurring as i tried to force myself to breathe. fred was there, motionless, and in that moment, the world shattered around me. everything i had been trying to ignore, the pain and the guilt and the fear, came rushing back like a flood. he was gone. and i had failed him.

…

months passed. fred was gone. my fred. the funeral was over, and i was left with a hollow ache that refused to heal. he left two things behind: a letter for george, and a letter for me. george read his immediately, but mine sat on the coffee table, day after day, glaring at me like it held all the answers i didn’t want to face. reading it meant accepting the truth: fred was gone.

each time i reached for the letter, something inside me screamed to leave it unopened. because once i read it, i would have to face the fact that fred was never coming back. that i had failed him, failed to see the signs, failed to protect him. i spent my days replaying every moment, every fight, every smile, wondering if i could have done something differently.

his family tried to console me, but i knew they blamed me. how could they not? i blamed myself. i wasn’t enough for him. i couldn’t save him.

one day, i came home early. my boss had told me i needed a break, though i knew what he really meant. i wasn’t working hard enough. i wasn’t good enough.

when i unlocked the flat, fred was there. his back was turned to me, bent over a stack of paperwork at the kitchen table. my heart leapt in my chest, hope flooding my veins.

“i knew it,” i sobbed, dropping my things and rushing to him. “i knew you were still alive.”

he turned slowly, and my world came crashing down all over again.

“y/n…” he began, his voice cracking. “it’s me. it’s george.”

i froze. my breath caught in my throat. my knees felt weak. “you’re lying,” i whispered, my voice barely audible. “it’s you, freddie. it’s you.”

he stepped toward me, tears streaming down his face. “i’m so sorry, y/n. i’m so sorry for making you think that.” his voice shook. “i’m sorry.”

i collapsed into him, sobbing so hard i couldn’t breathe. he held me, but the warmth of his embrace felt like a cruel imitation of what i wanted. fred was everything to both of us, and now he was gone, leaving only pieces of what we once had.

the next time i saw george, his hair was brown. the uncanny resemblance to fred was gone.

george’s pov:

the next time i saw y/n, she was in the garden, laughing and twirling as if she were dancing with someone. when i called her name, she turned to me, her face lighting up in a way i hadn’t seen in months. “george! freddie and i were just talking about you. he thinks you should dye your hair back—you look ridiculous.”

i froze, my heart sinking into my stomach.

she glanced over her shoulder, then nodded as if listening to something only she could hear. “see? he agrees!”

i could feel the weight of my breath catch in my throat, my pulse quickening. i watched her smile, her eyes wide and unblinking, as if she were seeing him—really seeing him. Him.

her hand reached out, brushing the air in front of her. “freddie says you need to stop moping,” she whispered, her voice soft and delicate, like a child telling a secret. “he says you’re embarrassing him.”

i couldn’t speak. i couldn’t move. all i could do was watch her—laughing, twirling, lost in a conversation with someone who wasn’t there. she smiled like everything was fine. like everything was okay.

in that moment, the realization hit me hard. i wasn’t just grieving for fred anymore. i was losing her too.

[oh-meretseger]

part 3 - Listen

attack on titan modern college au // Jean Kirstein x fem!reader

notes: 18+! smut (although they still don’t touch each other teehee i’m sorry), phone sex, mutual masturbation

word count: 4,1k

Thursday night. You being stressed out of your mind, Jean being his inconsiderate jerk self, not even trying to help you do the finishing touches of your project.

"I can't believe you're not able to pay attention for one fucking minute, you're such a fucking dumbass!" you let the spiteful words spill out of your mouth loudly, almost yelling, not even thinking about holding your anger back anymore.

Jean bit his lower lip as he listened to you yell at him through the phone. He shifted in his seat, spreading his thighs a little wider. Once again, this damn feeling started to take over him...

"A dumbass, huh?"

"You heard me right, a dumbass."

Jean closed his eyes, getting lost in the feeling. He never thought of himself as a masochist. And no loser little nerd could ever get a reaction out of him by degrading him... But as he listened to your voice, stern and unforgiving, your words so full of spite and such intense anger, he couldn't help but feel himself grow hard under his gray sweatpants.

"An arrogant fucking prick, who is so full of himself, he can't even FATHOM how much precious time of others he's fucking wasting" you didn't plan on stopping now. Even though it was pure anger what made you act so unusually rude, it felt good as it left your mouth. You had so much frustration against Jean stored up in your body. Although you blatantly ignored the reason for that, on purpose... But you could feel the relief of setting it free.

Jean couldn't see you, but he imagined as your glasses moved slightly on the pretty freckles on your nose while you were cursing at him through the phone. He loved when those seemingly innocent, big eyes of yours turned so fiery and intense, whenever he reached his goal in annoying you until you lashed out.

His hand slid down to where his sweatpants started to feel tight and grabbed his growing hard-on, letting out a quiet and low groan. He palmed himself as he listened to you rambling on.

You're in your dorm and it's late at night, your hair must be in the messy braid right now that you usually wear at home, a few soft strands falling down to your delicate little neck, as you are fuming with anger and spit out such nasty words from between those innocently glistening, plump lips of yours...

"Mhmmm"

"What 'mmm'?! Are you even listening?" you yelled at him again through the phone, not even suspecting anything. You wished he was right in front of you at that moment. The relief of cursing him out wasn't enough - you wanted to look him in the eye and tell him off right in front of that stupid smug face of his. You would jump right to his throat...

Another second passed, and a quiet moan stopped you in your tracks. You almost continued your rant, but this simple sound made you catch your breath.

Was that really a moan?

"Call me a dumbass again" you heard Jean's gentle voice from the other end, groaning, almost whiny as the sentence ended with another soft moan.

Heat immediately started to spread in your body.

You froze and couldn't even identify the intense wave of feeling that washed through you. Is it embarassment, maybe shock that makes you so damn confused right now?

A strong tingling feeling appeared inside you as another one of those quiet groans reached your ear. The heat flowing through your body, right to your core, felt like the one that always makes you explode with anger, whenever Jean is getting on your nerves... This felt a lot like that, actually, but this time the tension awoken by his voice was starting to make you lose any and all composure you had this far, and come undone. Is he really..?

"What, you're not mad at me anymore?" Jean's low voice broke the short silence and even though you couldn't see him, you could hear he was smiling. You could not believe your ears just yet, but you started to hear quiet, but definitely rhythmic and lewd noises coming from him.

Your brain shut down completely at the sound, words left your lips by themselves.

"Yes"

"Keep yelling at me then, baby" Jean told you again, his tone deep and filled with desire. Baby.

It was happening again... The heat flowing through you was making a pool of your panties at that very moment. This time was different though, it wasn't one of your little fantasies about Jean that you tried to deny the existance of. Or maybe this is a dream..?

You closed your eyes as you listened to another sigh and the slight, slow wet noises from the background.

"Jean-"

Jean's right hand was holding his phone, letting your sweet voice fill his ear. His gray sweatpants were now pushed down, around his thick thighs, just enough to let his other hand move freely, slowly sliding up and down on his hard cock, fingers slightly squeezing around its girth.

"Am I not a dumbass anymore?"

"Wha-" you tried to reply, but you choked on your words. You could feel your face grow hot as you realized how wet you got by hearing Jean's sounds of pleasure. Arousal, confusion and anger made your mind go hazy and absolutely dumbfounded. "You are. What the actual fuck"

Is this idiot really jerking off to you cussing him out?

"Are you being serious right now?! Or is this some kind of disgusting joke?"

"That's it, Y/N" it was like Jean's heavy breathing was directly connected to your center through your ear, and you closed your eyes as a desperate moan left his mouth, sending another wave of warmth through your wet folds. "You're mad at me for not paying attention, what else?"

You started squirming in your seat, still denying how good Jean's voice made you feel. You wanted to hate him for this. How is it possible the most intense arousal you've ever felt was awoken by this self absorbed jerk, who you could swear you despised?

"I can't believe you-" you wanted to make the good feeling go away, but even rubbing your thighs together a little made you see stars as you thought of him stroking his cock to your voice. "You always fucking do this, you act like such an out-of-pocket prick, I could seriously punch you in the face right now!”

Jean chuckled, his hand still slowly working his achingly erect cock. You wanted your words to sound foul, but your voice felt like sweet honey in his ear, making him hungry for more.

He couldn't have explained this whole situation, even if he wanted to... But he didn't want to. You were so emotional, so different from your usual self whenever he purposefully got on your nerves - and he was so incredibly turned on by it. And he knew you felt the same. He saw the way you looked at him fresh out of the shower the day before.

You were being a stubborn little brat at the moment, but Jean could sense the sparks of your frustration, even through the phone.

"Yeah? Y'think you could hurt me?" he smiled to himself, then stopped the steady up-and-down of his hand to squeeze his sensitive pink tip and slowly smear his glistening precum around with a finger.

Of course, you didn't mean these words in the slightest - although the force of your present feelings could easily make you feel otherwise. Jean was arrogant, sure, at least when he was around you, and him being so nonchalantly blunt always rubbed you the wrong way... But maybe it was because of how calm and collected he seemed, all the time, no matter the circumstances, he could always turn anything into a snarky joke.

You secretly loved when he got heated during an argument, barely visibly losing his temper. His smug grin turning into clenched teeth, those long fingers, big hands squeezing into a fist, his muscles tensing up...

Exactly like his forearm is probably tensing right now, sliding his hand on his hard cock.

Why do you feel the need to see, just get a glimpse of it..?

"You can't even imagine" you replied, and although you intended to sound infuriated, you couldn't help but smile back. "I could bite through your stupid throat right now"

"Oh yeah? How'd you know I'd like that?"

You literally started seeing stars hearing Jean's voice moaning those words.

Jean's hand picked up the rhythm again, stroking his cock, wet with precum, thinking about how your pretty little lips must be parted in confusion right now, your mind conflicted if you should stop denying and let yourself enjoy what feels good, or just straight up hang up on him.

On the other side of the phone, the wet sounds paired with Jean's heavy breathing and occasional quiet, desperate groans eventually made you lose all control, your eyes fell shut and you let out a soft little moan.

The widest grin formed on Jean's face as his cock throbbed in his hand at your sweet sound. "What now, I thought you were a good little nerd? You're not enjoying this, are you?"

You leaned back onto your pillows, let your knees fall further apart and slid your fingers to the hem of your panties. This is so wrong.

"You're the most annoying person I've ever met, Kirstein" you closed your eyes, him being the only image in your mind. You felt yourself get even more wet thinking about his arm muscles prominent as he pleasures himself, his big, strong thighs and the heaven that must be inbetween them...

"Mhm, what else?" Jean smirked, starting to find your angry little remarks adorable. He already knew you lost the battle against yourself - you lost your disguise, and couldn’t hold back your instinct anymore.

"And I hate you" you mumbled while your index finger delicately brushed over your clit through the fabric of your cotton panties. You accidentally let out a sigh as you felt how wet and sensitive you became.

"Tell me how much you hate me" Jean's voice sounded desperate and you couldn’t help another moan escaping your lips at hearing how turned on he was. Just like you. You want to make him feel good, so incredibly much...

"I hate you so much... I hate you for doing this to me" you moaned out quietly as your fingers slipped into your panties, feeling the dripping wetness he caused. And he didn't even have to touch you. It's all his fault...

"What am i doing to you, baby?" Jean's cock throbbed in his hand, immediately throwing his head back, vision becoming pitch black for a second as he heard you whimper in answer on the other side. "Holy shit..."

"I'm so wet" you almost whispered, scared to even admit it, but the urge to let him know how good he made you feel took over. Your quiet, desperate whimpers grew louder as the image of Jean touching himself became detailed in your colorful, dirty mind, and the slow circles of your fingers got faster on you unbearably sensitive clit.

Jean couldn't believe he had you like this - a hot, wet, whimpering mess. He felt like he was on cloud nine, imagining your dainty fingers playing with your sweet pussy as you listened to him, making yourself feel so good over the sounds he was making.

"I told you you're a pathetic little nerd" Jean teased you, letting out a breathy laugh, and another moan escaped your mouth as you heard the sound of him spitting, then the wet sounds of him fisting his cock in a steady pace.

Jean bit down on his lower lip, his eyes closed, completely lost in how immensely amazing this all felt while pumping his hand. Wishing it was yours instead...

"Shut up" you whined, then slipped the tip of a finger to your achingly empty, drenched hole. "This is all your fault..."

"Just let it go, pretty girl" he replied gently, his words coming out of his throat low and raspy. "Touch yourself for me"

"Jean-" rubbing your tender little knob felt like electric waves throughout your whole body, and you forgot how wrong this felt a few minutes ago. Jean became the only thing on your mind. You wanted to touch him, you wanted him to touch you.

"You like hearing me jerk off for you? Listening to your voice" words spilled out of Jean's mouth desperately, lips swollen from all the biting, his voice cracking in a whine as the mix of precum and saliva made it so easy for his fist to slide and stimulate his sensitive tip. Every wet noise, every word, every moan and whimper falling out of your sweet little mouth made him throb and he felt himself getting closer to his peak.

"Yes" you didn't even try to deny anymore. You've never felt so lost in your arousal, your fingers moving on their own in your panties, making the most wet and lewd sounds you've ever created.

"Then keep talking, baby" Jean's voice seemed almost begging, and you let out another moan hearing that pet name again. "Let me hear that wet little pussy"

You were certain the filthy sounds made by your wetness were loud enough to reach his ear, but you moved your phone a little closer to your sweet spot to make sure. “Jean it- it feels so good, you're making me feel so good"

Jean started seeing stars at the sound, stopping the movement of his hand when he almost came on the spot.

"I hate you so much, there are no words for how angry I am with you, I could explode..." your whines let him know you were also close, but he didn't want to cum just yet. He didn't want it to be over. "Do you still have that black t-shirt on?"

"I do, actually" Jean smiled, slowly palming his cock while glancing down at his shirt. He didn't know, but that day you already checked out how his shirt hugged his beautiful upper body so perfectly.

That shirt was your favorite on him.

"You're gonna paint it white for me, aren't you?" you let the filthy words pour out of your mouth without a second thought, then grinned at how good it felt. "You dirty, nasty boy"

A whine escaped Jean's lips hearing those words, and his back arched in his seat, his hand starting to pump faster on his leaky cock.

"Yeah I am" he grunted, his breathing getting heavier. "M'making a mess just for you"

"Jean-" you moaned out, his name feeling so sweet on your tongue. Blood flushed to your face, the familiar warmth of getting close to your climax. "I'm so close, baby"

"Yeah?" your soft voice sounded almost pleading, only pushing him closer to the edge with you. "Gonna cum listening to me jerk my cock for you?"

"Mhmm" you whined, dangerously close to your peak, your mind going blank as an intense feeling took over your body.

Jean knew you were seconds away from spilling, moaning so beautifully for him, unable to form words anymore. But he still didn't want it to end yet. "Tell me what your pretty little fingers are doing, angel"

"M'rubbing my pussy" you felt your face get hot as you said such dirty words out loud.

"You're rubbing your little clit for me?"

"Mhmm" you moaned in answer, and Jean closed his eyes, imagining your legs spread and pulled up, his face buried right between them, lapping up the sweet nectar leaking out of you.

"Oh my god, I wish I could push my fingers inside of you" he breathed out. "I want you to cum on my face so bad”

"Holy-" your body reacted immediately to Jean’s words, and as you imagined his face between your legs, his warm tongue swirling over your clit, you couldn’t help but letting out a high pitched moan. “Jean!”

“Cum for me, pretty girl, let it go” Jean encouraged you gently, his hand’s movements becoming fast and sloppy at the thought of you reaching your orgasm. “I’m gonna cum for you, too”

“Mmpf, you better make a mess of yourself for me” your brain somehow found a way to form a sentence, and a second after your snarky mumble the knot growing in your core came undone, all that built up electric sensation turning into an explosion of intense pleasure. Heaven must feel like this.

And in your most heavenly moments, the only thing your mind could make you do was moan Jean’s name, chanting like it was some kind of prayer.

Jean couldn’t have helped himself, even if he wanted to. Hearing those words out of your mouth, heavy breaths and uncontrolled sounds of you moaning his name, escaping your sweet lips as you came on your pretty fingers - it was over for him. He let out a grunt as the most powerful feeling of pleasure erupted in his core. He moaned your name as he watched his arm’s movements become even sloppier.

His legs started trembling as the first few drops gushed down on his fingers, then hot cum splurted all over the black fabric of his t-shirt, just like he promised you.

“Oh my god” you whimpered, feeling your own pool of wetness with your fingers as you came down from your high. You have never experienced such an intense orgasm, although you were not able to form these thoughts yet, quite literally forgetting your name for a few seconds there.

Just like Jean. It was like a hurricane that just cleared his mind, completely blank. He parted his long fingers, sticky with his cum, his other hand still holding his phone and your sweet little sounds to his ear.

You listened to each others breathing and sighs getting less and less heavy, slowly regaining consciousness and realizing what you’ve just done.

Uh oh.

"You’re not mad at me anymore?" Jean broke the silence that seemed like long minutes, his voice low, but you could still hear that smug smirk on his face through the phone. You felt your cheeks grow warm with embarrassment.

"You’re such a fucking pervert" you muttered, and Jean let out a chuckle. “I’m killing you tomorrow. Good night”

You hung up and immediately threw your phone across the room, right onto Sasha’s empty bed. You grabbed a pillow, pushed it into your face, and a muffled scream left your mouth, but it didn’t help your frustration at all.

You wanted to see that black t-shirt of his, so, so bad…

Waking up the next day felt like a struggle. Last night, you laid wide awake for hours before finally falling asleep, only to be woken up by Sasha’s loud singing about two hours later. It was morning already and you had class together, all of you.

You dressed into the biggest, baggiest clothes you could find to hide from the world, specifically from Jean. Only Sasha was able to make you smile in such state when she broke into a laughing fit, after stepping out of the bathroom and taking a look at your outfit, calling you a “huge sack of potato”.

She didn’t know the dirty secret you were hiding, and you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to tell her. The embarrassment of your filthy, filthy actions was too extreme to even consider that.

That was until you saw him.

You were seated between Sasha and Connie, still hiding under your hoodie, waiting for the lecture to start, when a familiar voice hit your ears, and heat spread through your face immediately.

Jean threw himself into the chair next to Connie with a sigh. You froze, not even moving your head one bit. You felt like you could never look at him again. But you wanted to, so much.

You had to.

You carefully moved your eyes in his direction, very slowly turning your head just a little bit to steal a quick glance. Using the hood of your sweatshirt as a shield, you peeked past the hem of it - only to be met with Jean’s serious eyes staring right into yours.

You instantly bursted out laughing, your hand shooting to your mouth. All the tension snapped the moment you saw him looking at you, his eyes like stone, face troubled as if he had to leave for war the next day.

Jean’s laughter bursted out of his mouth basically at the same moment you looked into his eyes and lost it. Connie jerked his head up, almost scared, as you two cracked up out of the blue, then your laughter became louder and louder as you completely gave up, and you looked back to Jean.

“The hell’s so funny?” Connie growled, irritated by the early morning class and the apparent joke he seemed to miss.

You straight up convulsed with laughter as Jean howled, the situation being the most freaking hilarious piece of comedy you could ever imagine. Poor Connie didn’t get involved in the joke, and he sat there huffing and puffing while you and Jean were in absolute hysterics. Class became a real challenge after that, both of your bodies shaking with inaudible cackling from time to time when your eyes accidentally met.

Your stomach felt sore at the end of the lecture, but at least the embarrassed tension was nowhere to be found in your body. This was the first time Jean and you connected so blissfully in real life, and it felt so good.

Although you still seemed to deny your sudden urge to be close to him.

“Hey” a hand grabbed the sleeve of your hoodie from behind, stopping you from following Connie and Sasha, loudly bickering with each other down the hallway, now further and further away from you. The hand’s force pulled your body back, twirling you around - and meeting Jean’s body.

Some stupid butterflies decided to wake up in your stomach at the feeling of your bodies being so close, and you felt yourself blushing as you looked up at him.

“What, do you want me to call you a dumbass again?” you held back your smirk as you successfully kept your composure looking into those beautiful hazel eyes, and Jean cracked up.

“Just wanted to ask when exactly you plan on killing me” he grinned down at you, and your knees became weak right away. Fuck.

“I’ll let you live until the evening class. If I have to finish up the project for then, you won’t see tomorrow” you said with a serious tone and Jean’s grin softened to a half smile. His eyes practically sank into yours, his lids low as he looked down at you, and you felt the familiar heat spread in your body.

You basically became wet just by the way he was towering over you, his shoulders broad in front of your face, his fresh, slightly woody smell overtaking your senses and making your thoughts go hazy, one of his thighs still slightly touching yours as you stood so close to each other. Shivers ran down your spine when Jean’s other hand grabbed your other sleeve as well, then moved both of his hands down to gently brush his fingers over yours.

Your head almost dropped at the feeling.

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise” he replied after the short silence with a low voice, but you were so close to him, you could still hear him over the noise of the busy corridor. The intense feeling of his eyes piercing through yours started to burn you. He must’ve felt the same burning sensation.

You wanted to kiss him so bad - and he wanted to kiss you so, so bad.

But you didn’t.

A grin grew on his face again as he watched you look up at him with big eyes, sparkling with excitement. He found you absolutely adorable. But he wasn’t gonna give you what you wanted just yet.

He wanted to tease you a little first.

“I will definitely see tomorrow, I can guarantee your smartass that” he added and you couldn’t help smiling, seeing his usual cocky smirk. Jean suddenly leaned closer to you, and tingles ran down your body as his hand slid to the side of your neck, fingers reaching into your hair, his lips almost touching your ear on the other side as his whispers felt hot on your skin. “See you later, pretty girl”

Your eyes automatically closed, your lips slightly parted at how heavenly it felt. But it was like a painfully short dream, ripped away from you in seconds as Jean just as suddenly as he touched you, let go of you and walked away.

A document containing the project’s missing parts landed in your emails a few hours later, written detailed and precise. He even included whole paragraphs of things you begged him to work on the night before, when he didn’t seem to pay any attention. Before he…

Before you shared your secret little moments with each other.

[powerfultenderness]

Dear @powerfultenderness , but how about neighbor! König hearing "those" sounds and him hearing his name from y/n after that jelly encounter~. With that we can sleep peacefully( I am so invested in this series and your work, girl you slayyy hard! Love youuu!!).

Ahh, thank you so much!

You have struck a plot point I am saving for a different part of the story! So I wrote a little something else instead, I hope you still like it! Also, I was gonna sit on this for a bit, but since I have nothing else ready, and I kinda wanna keep y'all hooked, I'm posting it now. 😅

Not the most detailed smut I've written, but it is smut, so I'm bumping the rating to (Explicit 18+)

Direct continuation of [König's jealousy]

If anyone were to ask him what his greatest test of strength was, he had a definite answer. It had nothing to do with his time in the military, nor with KorTac. It was leaving you like that, desperate for him and moaning his name. Every part of him was telling him to go back to you, to finally partake in you. But you were still upset from running into your ex, and he didn’t want your first time together to be tainted by that. He wanted to make sure that you really wanted him, and not simply a distraction. 

König sighed, fresh from a very cold shower, as he dropped into the soft embrace of his bed. He wished it was your embrace instead. In the safety and privacy of his own home, he let out an appreciative hum as he remembered the feeling of your soft body against his. He could still hear your little pants and whimpers as he rocked his aching cock against your ass. 

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself and rolled over, nuzzling his face into his pillow. 

This line of thought would lead him nowhere. He knew that. That didn’t stop his mind from conjuring the feeling of holding you in his arms, your body fitting perfectly against his. He softly rolled his hips into the mattress, as if that could replicate the sensation of having you. Instead of your sweet little “Ah!”s, his ears only picked up his own heavy breathing and the gentle rock of his bed. Even when he breathed in, his mind supplied him with your intoxicating scent. 

-

Knock! Knock! Knock!

He jolted with a muttered curse, he had been enjoying floating in his thoughts of you and this was a rude interruption. He grumbled a bit as he grabbed one of his masks and tossed it on before answering the door.

“König!” 

Oh! His heart quickened and his stomach flipped. Not a rude interruption at all, especially when you were wearing that dress he bought. Maybe he should go back and buy one in every color. 

He cleared his throat and stepped aside to let you in, “everything ok?” 

You sighed and shook your head, “no! How can you ask that?” 

“What?” Shit. Did he forget something?

You quickly turned away from him to move towards the couch, your dress flaring out around you for a moment and drawing his eyes down to your thighs. You were pouting at him by the time he was able to drag his eyes back up. “I have to know what you said last night!” 

Oh. Shit. He was a little apprehensive of how you’d react once you had a moment to gather your thoughts. He supposed that was now. He sat down next to you, about to answer but you started first, showing him the translation on your phone. 

“I’m pretty sure I caught at least one word! “Not”! Are you mad at me?”

“What?” 

“About how I let Adrian ruin our day?” 

Did you say ‘day’ or ‘date’? No. Now wasn’t the time.

“No. No-” 

You dropped your hands into your lap and looked down, away from him. “I’m sorry. It’s just seeing him again made me realize…” 

“Realize what?” 

You were trembling just enough for him to notice and the way you started to bite at your lower lip was reminiscent of when you saw Adrian out with that other woman. And then you forced yourself to smile at him, “heh. You know what? Never mind. Forget it. Forget-” 

“Realize what?” 

You tried to look away from him again, but he gently caught your chin and made you look at him, still you averted your eyes as you whispered an answer. “If Adrian couldn’t love me…?” 

“I can.” He didn’t hesitate. 

You gasped and slapped your hands over your face and leaned into him, hiding your face into his chest. “Don’t say thaaat!”

He chuckled at how cute you were flustered like that, and gently put a hand on your back. “Why not?” 

“Isn’t it too early for us to be even thinking about love?”

“Maybe.” He shrugged, then nudged you so you looked up at him again. “But I don’t want you to think about him again.” 

You smiled, but still found a way to hide your face from him again, this time by sitting back and dropping your forehead onto his shoulder. “That’s easy to do with you around. Sometimes, you’re all I think about.” You muttered shyly into his arm. 

Oh he knew that feeling all too well. He pulled his arm from your grasp and wrapped it around your shoulder, pulling you into his chest one more. You adjusted to sit more comfortably and tucked your head just under his chin. 

He was happy, holding you in his arms like this, and his feelings even tumbled out of his mouth, in German.

You giggled, however. “You have to stop doing that!”

“Doing what?” 

“What did you say?” 

He hadn’t meant to say that out loud! “Nothing.”

You huffed and looked up at him. “Tell me.” 

“Fine. I said, “I want to taste you.” 

Your eyes went wide and you gasped, burying your face in his chest again. He would have laughed but you mumbled something. “That’s funny.” 

“Oh? Why is it funny?” 

“Because I,” your fingers were playing with the edge of his mask, “want you to touch me.” 

His stomach flipped again. He couldn’t. Did you just. “What?” 

For a second, as you removed his arm from around you, he thought you were going to walk away. That he scared you off. Instead you climbed onto his lap, your back pressed against his chest and your right leg hooked over his knee. Then you took his hand and slowly began to drag it up the inside of your thigh. “Touch me, König.” 

He didn’t need to be told a third time and even without your guiding hand, he looked over your shoulder to see his hand disappear under your skirt. You gasped quietly as he cupped you, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing slow, gentle, circles over your cotton panties. Only when you started to move your hips did he slip his hand inside your panties, thick fingers gliding across your clit. You whimpered, head falling back against his shoulder, as his fingers prod at your entrance, gathering slick only to slowly drag up to your clit. 

“Take these off,” he growled and pulled at your panties. “Or I’ll rip them off.” 

You let out a breathy laugh and helped him move the offending garment down, wiggling in his lap and driving him crazy. Cute printed cotton that he had no attention for (right now at least) fell to the floor by his feet as he hiked your dress completely over your waist, pulling the excess fabric back. His left arm was wound around your chest, just below your breasts, holding you in place while his right hand went back to your now fully exposed sex.

“I want to see this pretty little pussy take my fingers.” 

He continued to tease you, dragging his fingers in soft gentle circles around your clit down to your entrance, slowly sliding a finger in one knuckle at a time and rubbing the heel of his palm against your clit. Not even your whining moans could drown out the lewd sound of his fingers sliding in and out of your pussy. 

“König!” You squirmed in his lap, ass grinding against his hard cock, and tried to close your thighs. 

“No!” He growled, “none of that!” and dropped his left hand from your chest to your thigh and pulled your legs apart, all while still vigorously pumping his fingers in your throbbing cunt. 

“Ah! AH! Stop!” 

König froze, fingers still buried deep in you, and even stopped breathing. “Shit. Are you hurt?” 

You shook your head, muttering a small “no,” but still pushed his hand away from you, whimpering as his fingers slid out of your pussy. 

He remained still as a statue as you moved, unsure why you stopped and afraid that you didn’t want to tell him if he had hurt you. You moved until you were facing forwards just enough to reach for his mask. Already frozen with anxiety, he couldn’t move to stop you from lifting the edge of his mask up. You stopped, however, just below his nose, then slowly brought his right hand, covered in your cum, to his face. “Taste.” 

He whined, gasping short excited breaths, as he let you guide his hand to his mouth. His eyes closed, mouth already hanging open.

-

Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt! 

His eyes opened and he swallowed thickly, mouth dry from… “Fuck.” He muttered to himself as the memory of his dream came flooding back to him. 

He sighed and flipped over onto his back, swallowing once more to alleviate his dry mouth, and realized he was hard as a rock. Sleepily he dragged one hand down to his waist. You were going to be the death of him. His mind supplied him images of both memory and dream versions of you as he shucked his boxers down and wrapped a hand around his cock. What a death it would be though. 

[More Neighbor König]

Tagging: @warrior-of-justice