#he opens his laptop to show you a new beat hes working on

[charcadett]

Fluff alphabet, G for Guzma!! Give me the content munch munch munch

YESSSSSS GUZMA TIME HEHEH. this is my first time doing ANYTHING for him so like. 🐻 with me

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Guzma can be thick in the head. You do things around the house, like make the bed or do the dishes and his first instinct is to think a ghost has been through the place. I don’t think anybody in Po Town cleaned. Of course, if it crossed his mind that it was you doing those things, he’d think it was nice. Otherwise, he’d wonder what happened to his old cereal bowl. It wasn’t that dirty and it was only from yesterday, he could use it again for salsa or something. One thing he is openly grateful for is your affection. He sops that shit up like a dry sponge. Having someone who he trusts nearby to throw the odd idea at or scoop into his arms during a movie is something he’d never take for granted. He acts grumpy about it, but he secretly loves when you wake him up to tell him some silly late night thought of yours. “I just read that most of the stars you see at night are already dead. Isn’t that nuts?” “Really fuckin’ nuts.”

[harryspet]

well kept [2] r. cameron

[warnings] dark!ceo!rafe x reader, size difference, billionaire!older!rafe, shy!reader with low self-esteem, reader is a person who stutters, boss x personal assistant, heavy abuse of power, emotional/mental manipulation, NONCON, little editing, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

A/N: Pls reblog and let me know what you think!

word count: 4.5k

In which you officially enter into a world of high stakes and intense demands.

well kept masterlist

Your fingers traced the smooth edge of the new work bag that sat on your desk, a pristine luxury item whose brand you didn’t immediately recognize. It was medium-sized, big enough to fit your brand-new laptop, and an off-white color with pebble-textured leather. 

“Wow, you clean up nice,” came a voice from behind you. You turned to find Eleanor approaching, coffee in hand.

Instinctively, you pulled down your skirt as she looked you over. You were effortlessly polished, for sure. You usually only get your hair professionally done for special occasions, opting for simple protective styles you could do yourself. However, you had to admit you felt pretty with your hair in a neat, braided rose that reached down to your lower back. 

The clothes only amplified this unfamiliar sensation. After trying on eight outfits the previous night, you had settled on a cherry-red cropped blazer and a matching pleated skirt. You’d chosen the shortest heels Rafe had sent—a pair of white kitten heels adorned with gold bows. Your makeup, subtly applied, complemented the overall look.

Eleanor set her things down, straightened, and placed a hand on her slender hips. “Take your bag,” she said. “I’ll show you where Rafe expects you to work.”

“I thought that was my desk.”

“He’ll tell you where you need to be and when you need to be there.”

Her answer was simple enough. 

You entered the luxurious space that Rafe called an office once again. Even when he wasn’t in the room, you were intimidated by it, “He had this brought in for you,” Facing the wall on the side of the room that held Rafe’s desk, in the corner, was a simple mahogany desk. The miniature version of Rafe’s desk. A cushioned stool was placed underneath and on top were a notebook, a cup of pens, and a small lamp, “This is where he’ll expect you most mornings. You’re to review his calendar before he arrives, memorize it, and you’ll brief him on the day when he walks in.”

“I’m ssss-supposed to be in here with him …all day? What if I, you know, need you?”

“I’m right down the hallway, or you can email me.”

Eleanor spent the next thirty minutes showing you their emailing system and how to access Rafe’s calendar. She even shared a large cheat sheet she’d made with all of Rafe’s preferred restaurants, coffee shops, hotels, and the names and numbers of his home staff.

When she left you alone, you looked around the room. The view of the office from your corner was daunting. However, your heart had been beating too fast ever since you met Rafe. 

You turned your attention back to the calendar system. It was sleek and well-organized, and luckily, it was straightforward enough to navigate. You took note of his key meetings for the day and repeated them over in your head. You wrote down some notes in case your mind drew a blank. It was your first day, and he’d give you some grace, right? 

You needed to be able to anticipate these needs, but all you knew about Rafe Cameron was that he was complex and demanding. 

The sound of footsteps in the corridor drew your attention, and hurriedly, you glanced down at your note sheet again. Standing from your seat, you smoothed out your skirt, and with your notes in hand, you folded your palms in front of you. 

Unconsciously, as he pushed open the doors, you sucked air into your lungs. You held your breath until his eyes met with yours. In comparison to when you first met him, he was dressed down. He wore a short-sleeve black polo black dress pants, black leather penny loafers on his feet and a briefcase in hand. His face was stoic as he looked you over and let the doors close behind him. As big as they were, they were practically silent went they closed, adding to the ominous feeling in the room. 

You smiled, or tried to, “Good morning, Mr. Cameron, I’m–”

“I want you right here,” He interrupted, pointing down at the floor a foot before him. You stepped forward, hoping you wouldn’t trip like you had while practicing walking in them. Despite how he towered over you when you were this close, you made yourself comfortable there, “You’ll be right there every day when I walk in. Try again.”

“Good morning, Mr. Cameron-”

“I prefer Sir.”

Try again. Unfortunately, you were pretty used to being interrupted and forced to stop and start your sentences. “Good morning, Sir.” You were smiling as much as you could, but your throat hurt like your body wanted to cry. “Today, you’ll sss-start with three sss-separate online conferences with potential investors: Mr. Daniel, Mrs. Hunt, and Mr. Rivera. After lunch, you��ll have your weekly group meetings with department heads. You’ll start with Finance at one o’clock, Legal at two, and Design and Architecture at three. Your meeting with Property Management at four o’clock was canceled but rescheduled for Wednesday. For the rest of the day, you will be free to catch up with emails and ssss-submit the …. sss-ssss-strategic plan report you’ve been working on.”

He nodded once throughout your briefing, his face remaining impassive. You thought he might cringe at your mistakes, but he didn’t. You couldn’t help but feel like a strange choice for this job. Why would someone like him want to listen to you? 

“Good,” he confirmed, and you were relieved only for a moment. You were okay until he started to look you over, “Turn around.”

You weren’t sure why you looked in his eyes to see if he was being serious. Of course, he was being serious. Awkwardly, you face away from him until he adds, “In a circle, please.”

You felt your cheeks heat up from embarrassment before you faced him again. 

“I have a question,” You said.

“Yeah?”

“About the clothes. I …I didn’t know if it w-would be okay to return ssss-ssss-some of them. I just, there’s sss-so many.”

“And?” Rafe pressed, his brow furrowed. 

“I-I don’t have that much room for them.”

“Hmm,” He thought briefly, “How’s this? You take a picture of yourself in each outfit and then email them to me, and I’ll decide which ones I want you to wear. But everything red can stay. I like the red.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he brushed past you and returned to his desk. Unsure whether you were supposed to move or stay put, you waited in place. 

“I’ll take a coffee. Black. Thanks.”

Eager to escape the room and not feel the weight of his gaze, you hurried out of the doors. Panicked, you approached Eleanor’s desk, waving your hands to get her attention. She was on the phone, but you mouthed “Coffee.” Acting as your life vest, she pointed you toward one of the many doors that lined the wall across from the reception area. 

Inside, you expected to find a normal breakroom, but the room’s decoration reminded you more of a lounge. Black coffee should be easy enough, but your hands shook slightly as you worked the modern, sleek coffee maker. After you prepared the coffee, you took a breath, and made your way back to his office. You kept yourself as composed as possible, and he glanced up at you briefly as you entered. You set it carefully on the coaster near his computer. 

He didn’t directly look at you or the coffee; you took that as your sign to retreat to your desk. 

You sat quietly as he attended all three of his virtual meetings. Inevitably, you started to listen. Sometimes, you’d tune in, wanting to learn something, but you gave up a few times after realizing how complex things were. 

When he finished all his meetings, he spoke up, “What are the arrangements for lunch?” 

“Lunch …” You echoed, thinking about the calendar you recognize, “Is there sss-something sss-specific you’re in the mood for, sir?”

“On Mondays, I have lunch with my COO and CFO. We have standing reservations at several restaurants. You’ll need to pick one, call, and make sure everyone knows the plans.” 

“Okay,” You nodded, “Yes, sir.”

Was that on the cheat sheet? Had you missed that? After scrolling a few times, you will find the list of restaurants and senior team members. 

You called The Prime, an upscale steakhouse, for Rafe and his senior team, ensuring every detail was perfectly arranged. When it was time to leave, you stood to bid Rafe goodbye, only to be told you were expected to join him. Quickly gathering your things, you followed him down the elevator to the parking garage. Eleanor gave you an encouraging thumbs up and smile as you passed her.

You must’ve looked frightened. 

Rafe’s choice of vehicle, a massive black truck with gleaming rims and immaculate leather seat, wasn’t a surprise, but his courteous gesture was. He opened the door for you and gently placed a hand on your hip to steady you as you navigated the high step into the truck.

“Th-Thank you,” You spoke, your voice small before he closed the door. 

As you sat during the ride, you felt your thighs were too exposed. You crossed your legs, trying to alleviate that feeling, but it proved useless, “You’ll get used to it,” Rafe’s voice snapped you out of being consumed by your thoughts. You hadn’t realized he was even paying attention to you. 

Hesitantly, your eyes roamed over him. His shirt's short sleeves did little to conceal the strength in his arms and the defined lines of his chest. 

“You have a boyfriend?” He asked, his tone relaxed. He wasn’t allowed to ask that, but you recalled the words he had used with you the week prior. Would you fuck him? He’d already crossed a line. You needed to get used to his brashness, “A girlfriend?” He continued. 

“I-I-I,” Breathe in, slowly release, “I don’t.”

“Have you ever had one?”

The underlying implication of his words made you defensive, and you crossed your arms, “Have you, Sir?”

He let our a short laugh, “You just seem a little uptight,” Your lips parted and eyes widened.

“What-”

“I haven’t dated anyone seriously in a while. But you don’t need to date someone seriously to get what you need from them. I guess I’m just wondering if you have someone who . . . relieves your stress.”

“I really, really don’t want to answer that,” You spoke slowly. 

“Relax, we’re just talking. Is this going to be a problem? I’m just trying to get to know my newest employee.”

It felt like a mind game. He wasn’t like anyone you’d ever met before—every word, every glance from him seemed designed to put you on edge, to make you second-guess yourself. 

“No, sir,” You replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Are you a virgin, Y/N?” He asked suddenly as if he’d had some brilliant revelation.

“N-No,” You stuttered, lying through your teeth, “I’m not.”

He made a “hmm” sound as he glanced at you, “Of course you’re not. Forgive me; I shouldn’t jump to conclusions.”

You understood quickly he wasn’t actually looking for your forgiveness. He was testing you, pushing boundaries just to see how you’d react. 

When you arrived, Rafe pulled up to the valet stand, and a nicely dressed attendant quickly came over to open your door. You managed to step out with as much grace as you could muster, feeling the weight of Rafe’s eyes on you as you did. He was out of the truck in a heartbeat, striding around to join you, his hand again guiding you with that firm touch on your lower back. It was possessive, a silent declaration that you belonged to him, at least for the duration of this lunch.

The restaurant's setting was sophisticated and private, and you reached the table reserved for your group. The two of you were last to arrive, which meant all eyes fell on you as Rafe pulled out a chair for you right next to his seat. Two men were at the table, and you were taken aback by the fact that they were as young as Rafe. 

“Guys, this is Y/N,” Rafe gestured to you, making himself comfortable, “Y/N, meet Topper Thornton and Kelce Adams.”

You managed to speak to them, though your words stumbled slightly. They eyed you the same way Rafe often did, like prey. You could almost imagine your name listed on the menu in front of them. But Rafe, with a swift shift in conversation, cut off their questions, his tone a clear warning. When you took a bit too long to decide on your meal, Rafe didn’t hesitate. He ordered for you the moment the waiter arrived, a subtle reminder of the control he held over every aspect of your life, even what you ate.

You couldn’t help but notice that Topper shared Eleanor’s last name. Were they married? Siblings? The thought lingered as you made a mental note to ask her later. Without another word, you pulled out your notebook, ready to take notes for the meeting.

Something in his last meeting had angered him. When he returned to his office, you watched him cross the room; your mouth wanted to form the words to ask, “What’s wrong?” but your lips pressed into a thin line instead. 

As he settled in his desk, you pretended to be engrossed in your notes, hoping to avoid his attention. Ignoring the cold air in the room and the dark cloud hovering above him grew impossible. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched him. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers and tapped at the surface of his desk. Was it anxiety he was feeling? 

“Come here, Y/N?”

Startled, you dropped your pen on the floor, the sound making him fully turn his head towards you. Awkwardly, you picked it up and set it down on your desk. You fixed your skirt as you crossed the distance between his desk and yours to keep it from riding up. 

“Yes, sss-sir?” 

His eyes were dark as he spun his chair to face you, “Tell me,” He began, “What do you think you did wrong today?”

Your mind raced. Did you do something wrong that you hadn’t realized? There were plenty of mistakes, but it was only your first day and you’d been completely thrown out of your comfort zone. 

“I’m not ssss-sssure, sss-sir,” Your voice was barely above a whisper, a grimace on your face as you tried to force out the words. 

“Not sure?” He echoed. 

“I should’ve know t-t-to …” You pushed through that “stuck” feeling, “Make your lunch reservations.”

“That’s one.”

“Uhm,” Your voice trailed off as your bottom lip shook. You felt like a child being scolded. Why did you keep freezing? Why did you let him speak to you that way? “I-I-I-I-I…”

“Does it hurt, you know, when it gets that bad?” Rafe leaned back in his chair, his arms folded against his chest, now looking at you with curiosity and frustration.

You shook your head because it was all you could manage.

“You can’t think of anything else, huh?”

“I’m sss-sss-sorry,” As a tear fell from your eye, he stood from his chair. 

He shushed you, grabbing ahold of the top of your arms, “You know I could have chose anyone for this job?”

You nodded. 

“But I chose you,” You nodded again, “I do love to see you apologize, sweetheart, but you have to know what you’re apologizing for.”

“I’m sss-sssory,” You couldn’t help the apology that tumbled out again, “Fff-for not knowing.”

“There you go, yeah, that’s better,” He pulled you closer, and you felt his hand brush the strands of your hair over your shoulder, keeping it from your face, “I told you this would be a mutually beneficial relationship. You need money, someone to care take care of you… I need ... I need you. When you’re with me, you’re mine to do with as I please. Do you understand?”

You nodded, feeling like he was the only thing keeping you grounded. He dominated the space, his presence suffocating, and the fear of displeasing him made your breath catch in your throat. The boundaries between you blurred even further, leaving you more trapped than ever.

“Good girl,” one of his hands wrapped around the side of your neck. His gaze pierced into yours, his mind racing behind them, and he sighed as he mentally concluded, “I can’t punish you just yet.”

“Punish?” You asked in a whisper, his face moving in closer. 

“You gotta learn somehow, right?”

Your eyes darted from his eyes to his lips, panicked. Nothing could have prepared you for him smashing his lips against yours. One hand was on your neck, and the other wrapped behind you, pulling you into him. Even as his kiss overwhelmed you, your mind couldn’t let go of the word he had just used—punish.

“I have to fuck you. I have to,” He growled between kisses. 

Your hands pushed at his chest, but it was like trying to move a brick wall, “Please, Rafe,” You tried to say. Part of you thought using his real name would snap him from his trance, but he groaned into your mouth. 

You’d never been kissed like this; no one had ever explored you with their tongue, and part of your mind seemed to rejoice. The other part, the rational one, told you to escape. You started to use your strength to pull from him as you stepped backward, but that only made him grip you harder. 

You yelped, and when Rafe opened his eyes again, he smiled. Whatever weighed heavy on his mind before had clearly been relieved by the game he was trying to play. You stumbled back when he let you go, almost falling on your behind, “Go on,” He said with a smirk, “Just makes it more fun for me.”

Of all the games, you liked this one the least. You turned to flee, but before you could reach the door, he lifted you off the ground. You screamed, and the next thing you knew, you were being thrown onto the couch. Rafe pinned you down easily, his weight crushing you as he reached for your legs. You shut your thighs tightly, and his glare felt like a knife in your side.

“Do not!” He exploded, and you whimpered, “Hey, hey, sweetheart, I don’t want you to ever close your legs to me.” 

“Rafe, please … please d-don’t,” Someone would hear. Eleanor would hear, wouldn’t she? She’d stop him before he went too far. 

“God, I’d beat your fucking ass if I didn’t need to be inside of you right now,” He growled, prying your legs apart and tearing away your underwear as soon as he could feel it. He wrapped one hand around your throat, squeezing just enough to keep you pinned down, while the other undid his belt. “You don’t make demands anymore, do you understand?”

“I’ve-I’ve nnn-never…”

Understanding flashed in his eyes. 

“You're a fucking virgin?” You nodded, feeling a small piece of hope, “We can add lying to that list of things you’ve done wrong, huh?”

He seemed to pause which you felt grateful for. His belt was already undone, his hips sinking into yours, “No one’s ever tasted you?” You shook your head, “You’ve never had a cock in your mouth either?”

You looked away, embarrassed. 

“Fuck,” He breathed out, “You’re gonna be all mine.” 

“Please-” You tried again, but he silenced you, pressing his lips to yours again. 

This time, he was more deliberate with his movements. His hands traveled higher, and he reached into your shirt to gently knead at your breasts. He moved slower like he was savoring the moment. At the same time, you felt even more tortured. Your body betrayed you, responding to his caresses as if they were safe, as if he were someone you trusted. He was making all the right moves and your mind felt even more confused then your body. 

Fingers pinched gently at your nipples and your lips parted into a moan. He used it as an opportunity to explore your mouth further. Next, he moved down your jaw and then he nuzzled his face into your neck. There was a place on your collarbone he’d found, one that made you yelp in pleasure, a spot you didn’t know existed. That’s what he wanted. To conquer you. 

You felt warm between your legs and a slickness as you tried to move your legs. Rafe was still taking his time. He’d lifted your shirt, pulled down your bra, and placed your left breast into his mouth. You cried out, your back arching in an automatic response. If he kept going, you knew you could finish just from this alone, and the thought filled you with a mix of shame and despair.

Slowly, methodically, he dismantled your guard. 

When he sensed you were ready, that he’d successfully turned your body on, he pulled down his briefs. You couldn’t bring yourself to look down. It was gonna hurt, either way, why dwell on the size? “Tell me,” He kissed your jaw, leaning down to your ear, “Ask me to take your virginity.”

You tensed, “I-I d-don’t.”

“I can make it hurt, Y/N,” He warned, “I promise, you want me to be gentle”

He pressed his tip against your entrance, and you were already cringing, “Fucking ask me, or I’ll push it all inside.”

“Will you …t-take my virginity?”

“Please,” he corrected, a dark satisfaction in his tone.“Where’s your manners?”

“Please, take mmm-my vvvv-vvvv-virginity,” He slowly started to enter you, and you pressed your hands against his chest. 

You started to breathe heavily, “T-T-Too mmm-mmm-much.”

He pushed in more, “That’s just half, sweetheart. Take a deeper breath for me."

You listened even though he was hurting you. Even now, you believed him to be better than you. Looking up at him, you slowly breathed in and out. As you controlled your breathing, he started to move in and out of you. He cursed and grunted into your ear, soon falling into a rhythm. 

Pain began to blur with something else, something you didn’t want to acknowledge. 

It was a foreign feeling, being full of him, reaching to parts of you that had never been discovered. The only thing that felt wrong to you was how it was happening. Is this how it always felt? So completely all consuming? You were warm everywhere, a pressure building at your core, and you struggled to make a sound other than a moan. 

With each thrust you let out a yip, not realizing that you’d stopped pushing at his chest and started pawing at it. That only encouraged him further. He reached underneath you, lifting your left leg to your chest, as he grabbed a handful of your ass. He pried you open further in this position and he looked down at you …almost grateful. He was savoring you and every moment that he was touching you, infiltrating your body. You’d never had someone want you like this. 

Before you were even really aware of it, the pressure inside of you had built to a crescendo, and you’d cried out against Rafe’s lips. 

He smiled against yours, “Good girl, sweetheart,” Tears escaped your eyes again, this time because of how confused your hormones were. It felt like an uncontrolled explosion of emotion. 

Now, the sensation actually felt like something you couldn’t physically handle, “Oh my god, o-oh my god, ” You spoke over and over as you went back to pushing at his chest. 

“Stay,” he commanded, his body pressing you down further as he slowed his movements, his rhythm faltering. “I’m almost done,” he added, a hint of amusement in his voice. “You’re squeezing so tight.”

“Please,” you begged, your legs starting to shake. “Please, Rafe.”

Your words seemed to bring his climax. Your second orgasm came painfully, and you scrambled to free yourself from under his weight after he finished sinking into you. Your legs didn’t stop shaking, but at least you could catch your breath. 

Your bare bottom hit the plush carpet of his seating area, listening as Rafe’s heavy breathing slowed. You fixed your bra and top before you started to search for your underwear. To your dismay, they were completely torn. 

“I’ll get you some new ones, some nicer ones, yeah?”

You nodded, though you weren’t sure why. Feeling his gaze, you pushed your skirt down next. Looking down, you realize his remnants were sliding down your thighs. You just shut your legs tighter. A hand on your back made you glance up at him. His eyes were still dark, but there was more satisfaction than before. 

“We’re done for today, but before you leave, uh, Eleanor needs to see you.” 

He stood, and you looked away as he started to zip up his pants and fasten his belt again. 

“Th-That’s it?”

“Until tomorrow,” He said, his tone returned to business, as if the last few minutes were merely part of the workday.

You thought he was returning to his desk, but Rafe walked to your desk and collected your purse and computer. As you stood, your body ached, and you realized how disheveled you must look. Was your makeup smudged across your face? Did he bruise the back of your thighs? 

Rafe brought you your things, his hands finding your lower back, “Go home. Get some rest. And don’t forget about those pictures, yeah?”

You nodded although your mind was elsewhere. The next thing you knew, you were standing on the other side of the door, clutching your bag tightly to your chest. Your mind started to wonder what exactly had caused all this. Was he mad at you, or was that I an excuse to …ruin you. 

When you made it to Eleanor’s desk she asked you, “How was your first day?”

You nodded, trying to shake your expression into a smile, “I-It was … o-okay.”

There was no way she could have missed it in your eyes or in your appearance, but she continued, “I just need you to sign that NDA before you go. It’s completely standard procedure. It just assures that everything you see and hear is confidential. Protects the business.”

You took the papers from her and you tried to keep from shaking, “I can explain anything you need-”

“That’s okay,” You shook your head, knowing you just wanted to go home and hug your stuffed frog, “Thank you.”

You flipped through it quickly and signed your name where she indicated, “There’s one more thing. Are you on birth control?”

You stared, knowing the implication of the words. Why didn’t she warn you before you agreed to this?

You shook your head.

“You’ll need a Plan B. Should I pick it up for you, or would you prefer to do it yourself?”

Of course, you’d had friends who’d bought it before but the idea of going by yourself right now made you want to be sick. And you couldn’t tell your friends … at least not yet, “Could you … g-get it?”

“Of course, I’ll have it tomorrow,” She nodded and offered you a polite smile, “Do you need any help getting to the parking deck?”

You shook your head quickly, “I www-walked, thank you.”

As you made your way to the elevator, you wondered how your day spiraled so entirely out of your control.

Please reblog WITH your thoughts on the chapter to be added to the taglist for the story :) Also pls feel free to send me anons about your predictions/what you'd like to see in the story!

[stupidlittlespirit]

Just For Tonight (Valentines Special)

Rating: NSFW, mdni Type: Longform Tags: Fake dating, no use of pronouns for reader, messy kissing, pretending to be in a relationship, making out, Reigen being a cheapskate, flirting, riding, fingering, PIV sex, glasses!reigen Word count: 9630 My other works: here on tumblr and here on Ao3!

There's a nice new sushi place in town. It's a shame they're only offering discounts for couples....

“Valentine's day is a total scam,” declares Reigen, feet kicked up on his desk and lounging in his desk chair. “It’s so lame.”

It’s 5PM on a Wednesday afternoon and work is drawing steadily to a close. You’re filing the last few pieces of paperwork for today, tidying up your things before you head home for the evening, and all you’ve done is ask if any of your colleagues are doing something nice tonight for the lauded day.

In his typical fashion, however, Reigen has seized the opportunity to launch into a pointless spiel about his one-sided beef with made-up events and how much he doesn’t buy into them.

“It’s a capitalistic concept invented to sell cheap, poor quality products marked up by like, five hundred percent, to dumb idiots that are so blinded by love that they’ll part with cash hand over fist just to prove how much they allegedly care about someone,” Reigen yaps away. “Don’t people care about the integrity of love? People should show how they feel every day, not just when society tells them they have to. It’s a dumb holiday. It’s stupid. Totally ridiculous.”

“I heard that fancy new sushi place is doing half off for couples,” says Ekubo, floating aimlessly past your head.

“Half off?” says Reigen without missing a beat. “For real?”

You roll your eyes from behind your laptop and click it shut. Trust him to only care when he can save a few Yen.

“Yeah,” Ekubo yawns. “I was gonna go down there and haunt a few couples. Y’know, spoil their day or whatever.”

“Nice,” you snort, wafting the spirit away from your face. “That doesn’t scream bitter at all.”

Ekubo grins. “Gotta make entertainment somehow, honey. You have no idea how boring it is to be dead.”

It’s hard to look disapproving when you’re laughing but you shoot him a look anyway.

Reigen snatches his feet off of the desk and sits up straight, his chair creaking with the abrupt motion. He taps away on his PC, lightning fast, and makes a sound of interest. “Holy shit,” he says. “Looks like you’re right. Half off food and drink.”

Ekubo ignores him and turns his attention to you. “Any plans?”

You shake your head. While you’d rather not give him the satisfaction, you partly agree with Reigen. The holiday is a made up scam; almost every restaurant and bar in the city ups its prices under the guise of special dinners and intimate drinks, filling their windows with hearts and flowers and corny banners about love.

Being single on Valentine’s is even worse. No one wants to go out alone and the commiseration prize for being so is a condescending offering of dating events and pathetic ‘self love’ bullshit. It's unbearably sad and you'd rather drink a bottle of wine alone in the bath than be seen to engage in any of that shit.

Still, the thought of spending it with someone you have feelings for is, in theory, very attractive. It's just a shame the only person you want is sat two meters away and very much not interested in doing anything of the sort.

Bottle of wine in the bath it is, you think.

Once everything is packed up, you wish them both good nights and make your excuses to leave. Reigen lets you go without even looking up from his laptop and you decide that tonight, more than one bottle might be needed.

♡

At six thirty, just as you pour your first glass, your phone buzzes on the coffee table. You pick it up and flip it open, hoping this isn't going to be a late night call to come in to work even earlier tomorrow morning.

[Reigen] - are you free?

You stare at the message and another one comes in straight afterwards.

[Reigen] - obviously you are.

That’s a little hurtful but it’s not like he’s wrong. Why? you message back.

Three dots show up as he types, then they disappear, then return, and after a few minutes another message buzzes through.

[Reigen] - Emergency, meet me ASAP.

He pings through an address in the City and briefly, you're worried that he might be in trouble. The office diary hadn't listed any out of hours clients for tonight and it would be unlike Reigen to take a job that he couldn't handle alone; Serizawa is at night school this week to cram for exams and Mob is busy with his friends, so nothing is due to come up.

Another text comes through.

[Reigen] - and wear something nice.

You have absolutely no idea what he means by that, however if Reigen says it's an emergency then you'll never forgive yourself if you leave him high and dry. The last thing you want is for him to get hurt.

Must be a posh client, you think. Last minute demands for your presence are usually related to a high paying job, so it isn’t beyond the realm of possibility that he needs you to butter up a stuffy customer and show off some leg to make a sale. It wouldn’t be the first time and you usually get a good commission for your troubles. It’s easy money.

Sighing, you screw the cap back on your wine bottle and down the half-full glass in record speed.

It’s better than moping about alone.

♡

You make it there in thirty minutes, give or take. The short notice gives you just enough time to make yourself presentable, pick out an outfit and make it into the city, yet by some stroke of luck you manage to catch the last train into central.

The address isn’t far from the office and with a brisk pace, you make it in good time. It’s busy out here tonight. It’s hardly unexpected. You’re in the food district on a major holiday, throngs of people are wandering through here at the best of times.

What is, however, is the sight that greets you when you arrive at the map’s marked location.

Reigen is standing outside a dimly lit restaurant, browsing his phone in one hand and clutching a lush looking bouquet of roses in the other. You almost walk right past him, he's unrecognisable without his usual suit and tie; he's dressed in navy slacks and a perfectly white dress shirt, silver glasses on the end of his nose and hair styled nicely. He looks good.

“Reigen?” You ask, approaching him warily.

At the sound of his name, he glances up from his phone briefly to see who’s asking and double takes. He looks a little surprised to see you and you have to admit that you feel similarly.

“Oh,” he says, looking you up and down. “You made it.”

“Where’s the emergency?” You frown, looking past him to search for awaiting clients.

Reigen clears his throat and jerks his thumb over his shoulder, towards the restaurant. “Here.”

There are no concerned looking people waiting around behind him. In fact, the entire place looks to be filled with couples who are anything but. You glance between him and the shop front again, and wait for him to expand on why you’re here.

Reigen stares back at you for a moment and then proffers the bouquet. “Here,” he says, a little flushed in the face. “You like flowers, right?”

You stare at him, clearly confused, but you take them from him all the same. They’re roses, deep red and freshly cut, tied together in layers of pink paper that rival the colour on his cheeks. You have to admit, they're lovely.

“What are these for?” You ask, laughing. “Where are the clients? You said there was an emergency.”

Reigen looks slightly guilty and you realise, after a moment, that there isn’t any client. No one needs your help and there doesn't appear to be any spirit floating around to cause bother. Now that you think about it, the front of this place seems vaguely familiar and when you look again, you realise he’s totally played you.

“This is that fucking sushi place, isn’t it?” you sigh, shifting the flowers into the crook of your arm. If what Ekubo had said is true, it’s not like you’re going to get to take advantage of the discount he so desperately wants. “Reigen, we're not exactly….” You gesture between you both and the words that go unsaid are obvious: ‘a couple’.

“Look, they’re doing fifty percent off the whole menu!” Reigen launches into his reasoning and you can tell he’s practised it. “It’s just for tonight, and we don’t have to do anything except look like we are, right? They won't know any different!” He pouts slightly for good measure and you hate that it works so well on you. It always does. “Plus, they sell that swanky shrimp shit and I really wanna try it…. Please?”

The flowers suddenly make sense.

“Are you asking me to date you for the night?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. The concept is hardly unappealing. Reigen is cute and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it. Well, thinking about it and dreaming about it are two very different things and the little candle you hold for him has only been getting bigger over time.

You’ve kept it quiet for the most part; the only person in the office that has any vague idea is Ekubo. He’s perceptive enough to have caught you looking when no one else is and although he's sworn to keep it a secret, you suppose if he isn't around then you can get away with playing things off as pretending.

He shrugs, unabashed in his request.

“Ugh,” is all you say and it's the vague confirmation he needs.

Reigen grins.

He drags you into the restaurant, hand wrapped around your wrist, and announces to the waiter that's taking stock of the visitors that he's booked a table for two. The waiter looks from Reigen, to you, to where he's holding you tightly by your arm.

“Tonight's dinner is for couple's, sir….” He says, looking unconvinced.

Reigen wilts slightly, letting go out of you and gesturing towards the flowers in your arms. “Uh,” he clears his throat. “We are.”

The waiter regards you both with suspicion and Reigen visibly prepares himself to argue with the guy. If you're honest, you'd really rather not cause a scene in an establishment like this by allowing him to fight with the first member of staff he comes into contact with.

The restaurant is clearly not made for people like the two of you: it's modern and luxurious, filled with mahogany and crystalline chandeliers, and all the staff look like they've smelled something unsavoury. It's clearly an upper-class joint.

Still, you think it might be nice to take advantage of an opportunity like this and you don't really want to spend tonight by yourself. Besides, you'll never hear the end of it if this gets screwed up and frankly, pretending to be on a date with him is probably as close to the real thing as you're going to get.

Reigen opens his mouth and you take his hand before he can get himself in trouble, slipping his arm around your waist and leaning into his side. He stiffens, looking at you in surprise, but you ignore him in favour of giving the waiter your best loving smile and lean into him.

Reigen smells like musky aftershave and something that’s distinctly him, and it makes your mouth water. “He's just shy,” you laugh, laying it on thick. “Of course we're a couple.”

It's important that you sell the idea first, Reigen had told you after you'd floundered a sales pitch once. Convince them even a little bit and the rest of it sells itself.

The advice is sound enough and you decide that the situation calls for a little more manipulation in order to close the sale and get the fucking stupid shrimp your boss wants. If nothing else, this'll teach him a lesson for tricking you into things. You press a chaste, but decent, kiss to the corner of his mouth and shoot the waiter a look that you hope conveys how much a couple in love would definitely do something like that.

You can feel your body warm up and you will yourself to stay relaxed, hoping your face doesn’t show how silly you really feel.

Reigen isn’t doing as good a job at running with things and he laughs, a little manic and high pitched. He mumbles something about you being right and gingerly squeezes your waist.

The waiter sighs and gestures for you to follow, apparently adequately persuaded.

When you risk a glance at Reigen, he's alarmingly red and slightly sweaty. All of the argumentative energy has left his sails and he seems rooted to the spot, unable to meet your eyes.

It's more than a little entertaining. You slip out of his half embrace and take his hand, having to drag him along in the wake of the waiter when it becomes clear that he’s forgotten how to move independently. “This better be the best fucking sushi I've ever had,” you warn him, but it's hard not to smile when he almost trips over his own feet on the way to the table.

♡

The meal is otherworldly.

It's a testament to how the other half live. You've never had seafood like this before and knowing you probably won't have it again seems to make it all the sweeter. Everything is ten times better than the usual places you go.

Reigen lets you order whatever you want, provided it’s on the discount menu, obviously, and he even shares some of his fancy shrimp with you. Not much, but some.

The atmosphere is nice, too. Admittedly it's very romantic, candle lit and dark, and you suppose that is rather the point of it all. The lights stay low, the music is soft, and even the sushi arrives arranged into cute little hearts.

Your company is even better. Reigen has taken you out to eat before but usually he drags you to a cheap ramen place on the way home from work, and he always makes for entertaining companionship. This, though, is new. You've never actually gone out with him for a proper dinner and the entire time you sit across from him, you can't stop the way your stomach flutters at the thought of spending time like this together. It's silly, really.

It's not like this is a real date, after all. You don’t want to push the boat too far. There’s no sign that he actually feels any way about you beyond needing your compliance for his plan and you don’t want to make an idiot of yourself by getting too into it all.

You're halfway through sharing a round of nigiri when you realise Reigen is holding your hand. You're not sure how you missed him do it to begin with. After you'd sat down to eat, Reigen had been quick to keep himself to himself. The rosy tint to his face had stayed for a long time after your little over the top display and you had assumed he’d been too embarrassed to try something similar again.

Except halfway through dinner, you realise that his fingers are laced with yours as he laughs about a comment Mob had made the day before and he seems completely oblivious to the way his thumb is stroking over your knuckles.

You don't intend to mention it. It feels nice and you can't deny how enjoyable it is to play pretend like this with him, except he must catch your line of sight because he hums into his water glass, starting like it's also the first time he's noticed it, and starts to untangle himself.

“Shit,” he mumbles. “Sorry, I didn't-”

“I don't mind,” you say immediately. You're not sure what makes you blurt it out, but you tighten your grip to prevent him from backing off and surprisingly he gives in with no resistance.

He glances up at you, taken aback, and you try to clarify your meaning with only the tiniest of white lies. “The waiter already thinks we're making it up,” you say hurriedly. “We should probably keep it up until we leave, right? I’m not getting stuck with the full bill.”

Reigen raises his brows, seemingly astounded that you're not horrified by the concept of holding his hand, and he nods quickly to hide the expression. “Good idea,” he says, tangling his fingers with yours again. “Just for a bit longer.”

The hand holding lasts for more than just a bit. Even when you eat, neither of you let go of one another and no one mentions it. Sushi is easy to eat with one hand anyway, so it’s unobtrusive and easily forgotten. In fact, it’s oddly natural.

As the evening ticks on, you both relax enough that you start to forget that you’re supposed to be acting like you’re totally in love. It’s easy to get on with Reigen. You’ve always played off of each other well and this doesn’t feel any different to how you always behave around each other.

Beyond the handholding and the way his knees bump against yours under the table, you could be anywhere with him right now and you’re not sure you’d notice the change.

You’re not sure if that makes you feel better or worse about the situation.

The menu extends to several good wines and some specialty cocktails too, and in spite of the fact that you’re both scheduled to work tomorrow, you’re not shy about indulging. A single glass for you becomes another and even Reigen takes a risk on a second cocktail once he realises they’re serving something with citrus and fizz in it.

By the end of dinner you’re both getting on for being tipsy. Reigen begs off halfway through, a lightweight as usual, and relinquishes his for you to finish instead. It's probably for the best. His face is turning a pretty pink as he leans forward on the table, the alcohol bleeding into his system nicely, and dinner has been far too nice to puke up on the way home.

The alcohol settles in quickly and as mixing drinks tends to do, it goes to your head. You're not quite drunk, but you're not stone cold sober either. You think it might be why you stop paying attention to whatever Reigen is saying and start to let your thoughts wander a bit.

He's busy explaining a job from a few weeks ago, one that according to Mob had been fairly dicey, yet as you polish off the remainder of your glass, you’re not really listening to him brag about how he’d definitely been the one to save the day anymore.

You’re far too busy admiring the view to care about his stories. The fine wine feels like it cushions your mind in velvet, warming you up from the inside out and blurring everything around you except from him.

The chatter of the restaurant has faded away and the intimate lighting makes it feel like it’s just the two of you in here, trading stories and laughing with each other.

Reigen talks with his hands a lot, especially when he's had a drink, and while he expresses how close he’d come to death for the fifth time that day, he rocks your joined hands back and forth in time with his free one.

Reigen has nice hands: they’re wide and square, strong from all of his massages, with thick, long fingers you can’t help but imagine in places entirely unsuited to a public restaurant.

You’re enjoying a mental movie of said fingers on your body when he waves his hand in front of your face. Obviously you’re not doing a good enough job at showing him the attention he so craves.

“You're drunk,” he says, amused at your embarrassed look.

“No, I'm not,” you protest weakly. The stupid smile on your face belays your dishonesty and Reigen is clearly entertained. He blatantly doesn't believe you and you hide a laugh behind your hand. “Anyway, if I am, it's your fault.”

Reigen pretends to look aghast at the suggestion. “I'm your boss, I'd never get my employee drunk,” he scoffs.

“You don't remember having to scrape me off the floor of that bar at the Christmas party last year?” That one had been a particularly messy night out, even for you. You’re still all banned from the place for being idiots.

He smirks and you can see he's recalling it in real time. “That was your fault, not mine.”

“No way, you practically plied me with alcohol,” you say, laughing. “Very irresponsible of you.”

“Shut up,” Reigen grins and nods to the bouquet that’s propped up on the chair beside you. “I’m a great boss! I got you flowers, didn’t I?”

“Only so I’d date you under duress!” You say.

“I mean, sure, but also because you never get anything for Valentine’s.”

You stare at him, totally caught off guard by the confession. For what it's worth, Reigen looks even more surprised that he's said it. “I…. How did you-”

“Uh,” Reigen rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. “I… heard you talking to Serizawa about it last week.”

You can barely remember the conversation yourself. Serizawa had been talking about seeing flower arranging classes at his school and you'd made a comment whilst Reigen had been in the other room making tea, off the cuff and totally meaningless, about how you'd never gotten them before, not even for Valentine's day. It hadn't been said for any reason other than conversation, but it had been true. Up until now, anyway.

“Reigen, I-” You don't know if you should be over the moon that he cares so much or humiliated that the object of your affection knows about your shitty dating history. “Thank you.” You say finally, giving his hand a squeeze. “I think that's the nicest thing someone has done for me for a long time.”

Reigen shrugs it off like it's nothing and you're reminded of how much you really, really fucking like this guy. He's so sweet and kind and thoughtful, and no matter how frustrating he can be, he makes up for it so easily that you can never hold it against him.

Your head swims and ridiculously, your eyes start to burn a little.

You’d really rather not cry in front of him and very graciously, Reigen pretends not to notice. Instead, he reaches for the desert menu and this time, he tells you to pick whatever you like.

♡

For the last stretch of the night, the two of you share mochi and a couple more cocktails. The wine is a little heavy for dessert and Reigen talks you into splitting drinks so neither of you get completely wasted.

You're using them and his accidental confession over your flowers as an excuse to show a little more affection than you ought to, and he doesn't give the impression that it's a problem for him. He does start a little when you press your ankle to his under the table at one point, but at your apology and attempt to move it back, he catches your foot between his and holds it there without comment.

The casual touch becomes a subtle form of footsie without either of you consciously meaning it to and by the time dinner is done, you're sitting with your legs slotted together. Despite the fact you've let go of each other's hands to eat, everything feels much more intimate than it had at the start of tonight.

On the last few pieces of mochi, Reigen pauses his chewing. “You've got-” He gestures to his lower lip and you realise he's signifying that there's something on your mouth. “S'not much.”

Your hand flies up to seek out whatever he's talking about and you're mortified momentarily, expecting something obvious and gross clinging to your teeth, but your fingers come away clean with only a little powdered sugar on the tips.

“Oh,” you say, with a relieved laugh. “I guess I've had worse on them.” It isn't supposed to sound suggestive and the hidden meaning bypasses you until Reigen opens his smart mouth.

“Yeah,” he mutters, smirking to himself. “I bet.”

His comment comes out of nowhere and you almost choke on air, blindsided by the double entendre.

Reigen realises you've heard him and he turns so red you're sure he could light the entire way home. He panics a little, holding his hands up and starting to stammer out an apology until he realises you're laughing.

It's more than a little funny and you really don't don't mind. In fact, you suddenly wonder how far you can get him to take things. If he's making jokes like that, you're intrigued to see if you can coax out a different side to him. Just because he's your boss, that doesn't mean you both have to be uptight and on your best behaviour all of the time.

And anyway, it's all in good fun tonight. Couples are supposed to flirt, aren't they?

“Are you trying to push my buttons?” You ask, sucking the sugar from your fingertips and smiling over at him.

Reigen's eyes follow the motion and he clears his throat. “No, I-” He glances up at you, eyes searching yours, and you can almost hear the bell go off in his head when he realises he's safe to mess around a little.

A slow grin begins to bloom on his face and, slipping comfortably back into a playful attitude that you always enjoy being around, he shrugs. Reigen sits forward to lean on the table and props his chin up on his fist. “What are you gonna do if I am?” he asks, smirking. “Report me?”

You mirror him, leaning on the table too, and feint innocence. “No idea,” you say, layering on the helplessness. “Maybe. Maybe I’ll have to call HR and tell them my superior is bullying me….”

“Oh yeah?” Reigen's grin grows, cocky and lopsided. “Unfortunately,” he says, taking your hand again without acknowledging it. “I run that department too.”

Biting your lip to hold back a laugh, you duck your head and take the bait he's so clearly dangling in front of you. “Then I have a complaint to make about my boss….”

“Your boss?” Reigen says, tilting his head and pretending to recall who you might mean. He's extraordinarily good at committing to the bit. “Oh, you mean that really good looking, powerful psychic guy?”

“Uh huh,” you laugh softly and you run your toes up his ankle under the table. “Super powerful, very handsome.”

Reigen's eyes dart down toward where you're touching him, unseen, and he clears his throat again. “Handsome, huh?” He says, playing it as cool as he can. “How handsome are we talking?”

“Oh,” You smirk, shrugging one shoulder. It's hard not to break into giggles, not least because he's so cute when he thinks he's being subtle about fishing for compliments. “Enough that I don't mind him pushing a few of those buttons, I suppose.”

You know you're supposed to be joking around. All of this is a joke, a game, and yet…. The way he's allowing your touch, letting you do it back to him, it's impossible not to keep pushing.

Reigen's brow twitches and he grins. “And what if he pushed them harder?”

“I don't think I'd say no,” you sigh happily. “I like my buttons pushed pretty hard.”

“Careful,” Reigen warns playfully. “I heard he's bad news.”

You laugh under your breath. “He's not that bad once you get to know him.”

“You think so?” Reigen asks, eyes searching yours. Nonchalant, he takes your hand again and turns it over until your palm is facing upwards so he can draw slow circles on the soft skin

The sensation makes you shiver. Distractedly, you chew on your lower lip and nod. “Don't tell him, but I think he secretly likes being nicer than he gives himself credit for….”

Transfixed by your mouth, Reigen bites down on a grin. “How do you know what he likes in secret?” he says quietly. “I bet you've never even asked….”

“D'you think he'd tell me?” You say, toeing off your shoe to push your foot past his trouser leg and curl it around his calf. It's risky and stupid, and you can't even play it off as part of tonight's front, but Reigen doesn't seem to mind at all. “If I did.”

Something has changed in his gaze and all of a sudden, it doesn't feel like you're acting the part anymore. The two of you are very, very close together now and the air feels charged, like it's full of static that's pulling you towards him. He's only a few inches away from your face and you can smell the sweet scent of lemon on his breath.

Reigen is still trying to play it cool, working hard to maintain his composure as though he isn't sweating nervously. “Maybe if you show him yours, he'll show you his.”

“Yeah?” The din of the restaurant is distant and muted, like your head is full of cotton wool, and all you can concentrate on is the way he keeps licking his lips.

Reigen meets your eyes again and there's a tiny glimmer of hopeful interest in them. He doesn't appear to be joking anymore. “Go ahead,” he mutters. “Run it by me first.”

You're practically touching noses by now, leant across the table in each other's space, and if you were to tilt your head only a tiny bit, to pull on his hand, to drag him down onto you, you think you might be able to finally get the real kiss you've been dreaming of since you-

“Are you ready for the bill?”

A voice cuts through the woolly atmosphere, loud and abrasive, and both of you almost fall off of your chairs in sheer surprise, jerking away and righting yourselves in your chairs. You whip your foot back, Reigen stops touching your hand, and the intimate air abruptly feels broken and ruined.

“Apologies,” says the waiter, not looking very sorry at all. “But we do need the table.”

You can barely look up at the guy, face burning hot. It feels like you’ve been caught in the broom closet with your boss, doing something far worse than winding each other up, and Reigen seems just as embarrassed. Awkwardly, he takes the small, folded piece of paper from the waiter and reaches into his back pocket for his card.

♡

Reigen pays the whole bill and when you attempt to offer your half, he looks at you like you're insane. Typically, you split the bill with him whenever you go out to eat. He's a cheap bastard and you know better than to expect anything less, but he refuses your offer the second you hold out your own card.

He doesn't even complain about it, either, apparently just happy to have achieved his goal of qualifying for the discount he's been aiming for all night.

Once everything is settled, Reigen calls a cab for you both to share and the whole time you wait for it, you stand arm in arm with him, grinning like idiots and laughing together about cheating the system.

The taxi arrives quickly and in it, you sit closer to him than necessary, warm and toasty against his side.

The journey is quiet to begin with. You're sated and full, and still a little tipsy, so the silence isn't unpleasant. Slumped down in your seat, hiding your face from him, you can't stop turning over the memories of the dinner. He'd been so close to you, so within kissing distance, and you're too nervous to say anything about it in case he laughs you off.

What if he was just playing along? you think silently. What if I'm reading into it? The thought is nauseating. Perhaps you've sold the idea of dating him a bit too hard….

At your side, Reigen clears his throat softly and you shift so that you can see him properly. He’s sitting so close to you that your head is practically on his shoulder, and he looks down at you with a small, soft smile.

“Thanks,” he says quietly. “For coming. And for, y'know, going along with it. I hope it wasn't too weird.”

“I had a lot of fun, Reigen.” You laugh quietly. “Thank you. It was totally worth it.”

Reigen snorts. “I think we sold it pretty well, too,” he says. “Especially, y’know, on the way in.”

Oh, you think. The kiss.

“Sorry,” you duck your head and laugh, awkward. “I didn’t think he was gonna let us in and, well, you told me to make it work, so….”

He doesn't say anything and risking a look back up, you see that Reigen is watching you closely again, just as he had in the restaurant. Reigen smiles slightly, so warm and soft that your stomach feels like it might climb up your throat, and he looks down at your mouth again.

“Maybe I need to call HR,” he says with a half-laugh. “Kissing a subordinate is probably against some kinda law or something.”

There’s a playfulness in tone, like he's joking and simultaneously trying to see what your reaction to such a comment will be.

You decide to test the water. “Depends on whether the subordinate is into it, I guess….”

Reigen smirks, teasing, and a little bit relieved that you're not backing off. “I dunno, they didn’t get the chance to tell me.”

You realise he’s talking about the conversation you’d had before you had been so rudely interrupted, and your nerves flutter. Tonight has been full of flirting and teasing, and if you're still playing stupid games, you suppose you might as well go all in and see what happens.

You're both tipsy enough that you can play it off if he doesn't go for it. “Well,” you say, biting your lip. “I guess I'm pretty partial to a redhead. Especially if they’re in charge of me.”

“Yeah?” he says quietly, smile growing.

“And men with big mouths that they can't keep shut, too,” you smirk, glancing down at his.

“Noted,” he chuckles, his breath ghosting over your face. “Anything else you like?”

You look back up at his smug expression and decide you can't let him get too ahead of himself. “And swallowing.”

Reigen makes a funny noise, strangled and hoarse, and closes his eyes for a moment. “Fuck,” he murmurs. You can see his throat bob up and down as he tries to compose himself, and when he finally opens them again, he looks like he's struggling to keep it together. A blush crawls up his throat and the look in his eyes is so hungry it makes your knees go weak.

“Fuck HR,” Reigen says, and then sways forward slightly with the motion of the car and, leaning the rest of the way into your space, he ducks his head and kisses you.

Your eyes flutter shut and he cradles the side of your face, turning your head so he can get you exactly where he wants you.

It’s soft and nervous at first, like he's still not sure if he's making the right move and he pulls away almost as soon as he makes contact, only to return without hesitation for a second and a third at your insistent sounds. The chaste kisses become deeper as he lingers, slow and unhurried, and you can taste the sweetness from your desserts and drinks.

It’s so unbelievably fucking perfect.

You press your tongue against his and he gives a low groan, his hand finding your thigh to pull you closer. The kisses keep coming, his fingers trail upwards, crawling closer and closer to your lap, and you drag your teeth over his lower lip when he pulls away to breathe.

Reigen looks like he's had more than just a couple of cocktails to drink now; his face is redder than ever, his gaze glassy, and he's panting against your mouth like he's run a mile. You press another kiss to the corner of his lips and you shift in your seat, encouraging his hand to explore even higher.

He does as he’s asked, thick fingers slipping up between your legs and he leans down again to keep kissing you while he teases you through the fabric of your clothes.

You sigh into his mouth. His touch doesn’t feel like it’s anywhere near enough, the sensation dulled by your stupid fucking outfit, and you try to press up into him to seek out more.

Reigen laughs at your desperation, mumbling a stupid comment about being needy, and you bite his lip again in warning. “Careful,” You whisper, reaching over to palm him through his slacks with a smirk. “Don’t get smart.”

Reigen chokes out a grunt and his hips buck up of their own accord. He’s already hard, tenting his slacks, and you're not about to let him think he's in charge of the show. “HR won’t be happy if they find out I didn’t get my way,” you tut, rubbing his cock up and down slowly. “Then you will be in trouble.... And we don't want that, do we?”

Reigen hisses, eyes dark and pupils blown wide. He stares you down, challenging your gaze, and he smirks at your unwillingness to let him get away with being an asshole. He goes to kiss you again, surging forward, and then the taxi driver clears his throat very loudly.

You're yanked back into your surroundings. The car is parked up outside your apartment, engine running, and the driver is watching you in the mirror. He doesn't look very impressed. “You kids mind taking this somewhere else?”

You cover your mouth with your hand to stop yourself from laughing and grab your bouquet of flowers, flinging open the door while Reigen grabs whatever cash he has in pocket and flings it into the driver's tray.

He scrambles out of the car, darts around the back and grabs you by the hand, dragging you away and ignoring the guy's shouts of how much he's overpaid.

You only live on the first floor. Your apartment is small and simple, so much so that it hardly qualifies as much more than a shoebox with a kitchen attached, and you have to shuffle around in the hallway in order to let Reigen get inside.

He passes down the hall and makes his way into the main room, and once you’ve locked the front door you go after him. He's hovering about in the tiny living area, hands in his pockets as he inspects your room, and you drop the flowers on your coffee table whilst he’s busy.

This is the first time he’s been in here. On a proper night out, you tend to crash at his if you can’t make it home; it’s marginally bigger than yours and the cab is cheaper, which means his place always wins out. It’s a new experience to have him in your space like this.

“This is nice,” Reigen says awkwardly, gesturing to the apartment at large. “Cozy.” He seems a little stiff, unsure what to do now that he’s here.

You snort, coming to stand in front of him. “What are you, an estate agent?” You put your hands on his chest and guide him backwards until his legs hit the edge of your bed, and he falls back with a soft thump!

Willing and able, Reigen makes room for you between his legs. He pushes himself up on his elbows and looks on as you begin to undress. Your movements are slow and deliberate, never once looking away from him, and you can see his breathing pick up in pace.

He’s hypnotised by every move you make. You shed your clothes until you're in just your underwear, exposed to him, and climb carefully into his lap. You take off his glasses and lean over to deposit them on the bedside table before going back to him.

Reigen's hands come up to hold your waist and he boosts himself upward to restart his feverish kisses. He's ungainly and needy, licking and biting his way back into your mouth while you start to strip him of his dress shirt. You make quick work of the buttons, slipping them out with deft fingers and peeling the fabric away.

You tug at the back of his shirt until it slips free of his slacks, hands wandering over his lower back as you explore his soft skin. Much to your delight, the muddy freckles on his face continue down his shoulders, cascading onto his upper arms and spattering the pale skin like paintbrush flecks.

Reigen's body is slight. Narrow and slim, yet soft at the edges. He isn't very muscular; you know he runs on the weekends and you suppose he stays reasonably fit in order to chase after the others at work, so there's a subtle hint of strength hidden underneath the puppy fat of his stomach.

It's more attractive than it has any right to be.

Without breaking away from his kisses, you slip your hands down his chest and work your fingers under his belt until you reach the buckle, blindly undoing it with practiced skill.

The metal gives way and you slide the leather from the pin quickly to give yourself easier access. You're about to do the same to the buttons when he pulls away from you panting hard and clinging to your hips.

You try to chase his mouth, still pressing open mouthed kisses there while he tries to speak.

“Wait, wait,” Reigen says, voice hoarse. “Hang on.”

“Are you alright?” You ask, leaning back to make sure he's okay.

Reigen looks bashful, eyes searching yours. He goes to say something and then stops himself, visibly nervous about whatever he intends to say. "I…" He sighs, closing his eyes to steel himself. Whatever is wrong, it’s enough for him to reconsider what he's doing.

He doesn't move you off of him, but he suddenly looks like he wants to hide away somewhere. His flirty confidence from earlier is gone, replaced with the same shyness he'd shown when you had kissed him at the restaurant.

You take his face in his hands and force him to look up at you again. “Reigen, what is it? If you're uncomfortable, we can-”

“No!” He shakes his head, wrapping his arms around your middle to keep you still. “It's not that, I just…. I'm-” Reigen groans, not out of pleasure but embarrassment, and he buries his face in your shoulder. “I haven't really…. Done this. Before”

“What, fuck an employee?” you say, laughing quietly. “It's alright, I was just kidding about making a complaint, I-”

“No, I mean this,” he mumbles into your shoulder. “Sex.”

You push at his chest until he has to sit up, revealing his cherry red face. He's uncharacteristically out of his depth and you're confused as to what he's saying . “You mean, like, it's been a while?” You ask.

Reigen grimaces, shaking his head. “Like, ever.”

“What?” You don't mean for the shock to show so obviously. He’s clearly already struggling and you gaping down at him like he’s mad won’t help the situation, however the idea that he’s never had sex before is utterly insane to you.

“I’m sorry,” Reigen apologises, avoiding meeting your eyes. He shuffles like he means to get up, jostling you about. “I didn’t wanna say anything, I know it’s stupid I can just go-”

“Reigen, stop,“ you put your hands on his shoulders and he stills, nervously glancing up at you through his lashes. He looks like he expects you to laugh at him, to kick him out now that you know his secret. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t think it’d be a good topic over dinner,” Reigen huffs, rolling his eyes. “It’s embarrassing, obviously.” He’s very obviously humiliated by his admission and it makes your chest ache to see him so uncharacteristically vulnerable.

His point is valid enough; tonight was supposed to be fake, it’s not like there had been any need for him to tell you anything of the sort. Still, you feel a little bad for pushing him so much now. Admittedly it’s a surprise. He always seems to know what to say and being able to talk the talk usually gets you pretty far when it comes to sex, but the more you think about it, the more it starts to make sense.

All throughout dinner, he’d been happy to shoot the shit with you when he’d thought it was just a game, however the moment you’d done anything that even bordered on actual affection, he’d been decidedly less confident. Even in the car, his touches were hesitant and his kisses were unskilled.

You run a hand up his chest to soothe him, watching his tense shoulders relax. “Idiot,” you say, fond. “I don’t care.”

Reigen raises his eyebrows. “You don’t?”

“Not even a little bit,” you smile, leaning down to kiss him again.

Reigen doesn’t stop you. He breathes out heavily through his nose, gradually beginning to calm down, and you decide that things will have to go a little differently than you’d originally intended. “Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” You murmur.

He nods quickly and you trail kisses from the side of his mouth down to his jaw line, open mouthed and hot, and he tips his head back with a groan. His skin tastes slightly salty, probably from sweating so much around you, and you drag your teeth over his pulse point.

Reigen sighs happily. He squeezes your hips, grabbing them gently and digging his blunt nails into the skin.

You slip out of your bra and toss it across the room. You stop bothering his neck in order to sit up, and you guide his hands up from your hips to caress your chest.

His big hands grope at you, squeezing experimentally as he explores the new sights, enjoying himself immensely. It makes you keen under his touch and he grins, his bravery growing at your enjoyment.

You unbutton his slacks whilst he's busy touching you up and slip a hand into them to palm at him through his underwear. Reigen grunts and presses his hips up into you, seeking friction to rut against, and you push down to meet him.

He gasps at the contact, his hold on your hips tightening, and before he can get carried away with dry humping you, you tug at his slacks and force him to stop. “Take these off,” you instruct, climbing off of his lap to give him room.

Reigen scrambles to shove off his trousers, kicking them away with his underwear and shuffling back into place, lightning fast. His eagerness is horribly endearing and it makes you grin. You slip out of your underwear and push him back against the pillows. “Lay back,” you smile.

Reigen does as he's told and with him flat on his back, you can finally see him as exactly as you've imagined. A trail of deep red hair leads down to a small patch that surrounds his thick cock, well kept and neat.

His thighs are curved nicely, long legs stretching down to hang off of your bed, and they show far more evidence of his exercise than his upper body. Regardless, he's gorgeous from head to toe. It drives you insane and you drink in the view for a second.

Reigen begins to look a little self-conscious at your attention. He squirms under your scrutiny and you're quick to settle his fear, straddling his waist and kissing him again until he forgets all about his worry.

You trade touches with him, hands roaming over one another as you make out for a while and Reigen's bravery begins to grow. He's encouraged by your soft sighs and casual exploration of his own body, and quite bravely he walks his fingers down from your hip to your bare pussy.

Your breath catches and you look down to him, giving him the silent go ahead.

Reigen bites his lower lip. He looks excited and shy all at the same time. Very carefully, he runs his fingers along the soft folds of you and studies your face to see how you react to his touches.

You gasp and tilt your body towards him, opening your legs to give him better access to you. His fingertips meet wetness and he makes a soft sound, both interested and surprised, and he trails them through your arousal.

Reigen is so busy investigating the feeling that he seems to forget that you're attached to the other end. He toys with your pussy, listening to you gasp and moan, grinning to himself greedily.

“Reigen,” you whine, reaching down to cover his hand with your own. “Put your fucking fingers in me before I-!”

He does as you ask, pushing one into your cunt and silencing your command. You moan loudly and push down onto his hand, desperately seeking more.

“Should I just….” Reigen looks a little awkward, unsure how to proceed, and with your hand that holds his wrist, you guide his finger in and out slowly.

“Keep doing that,” you sigh. “That's perfect.” The motion makes you shudder and you grab at his shoulder with your other hand. Reigen works his hand up and down, slow and steady as though he has all the time in the world.

You’re so wet that he hardly has to wait to add a second finger and you encourage him along to keep him calm.

Reigen appears to be enjoying the praise you give. His cock is hard against your hip, precum smearing against the skin when you shift, and he rocks into you in time with his fingers.

As he moves his digits within you, you lean back to take hold of his cock, squeezing him gently. Reigen practically mewls when you do so, cock twitching in your grip.

You bring your hand back to spit in it and gently, you coat his cock until it's wet enough to glide your hand along smoothly, starting to stroke him.

Reigen gasps and bucks upward into your hold, desperate for more as he grips the sheets with his free hand. He adds another finger into you carefully, watching your face with barely concealed awe. His fingers inside you burn in the best way, and Reigen's digits curl perfectly to hit your sweetest spot, making you cry out.

He pauses for a second, frightened he might have done something wrong, and you shake your head at his silent query. “Don’t stop,” you say, breathless.

Reigen nods and moves in time with you for a minute, unable to look away from where you sit above him. His hand speeds up as yours does and within minutes, Reigen is falling apart under your touch.

Worried he'll get carried away, you lift up off of his hand and guide his fingers out. At first, he protests with an annoyed grunt, trying to snatch you back down, and you shove him back by his chest, grinning.

Reigen looks confused until you shift backward to hover over his cock and he catches on quickly.

“Ready?” You ask, making sure he's okay.

Reigen nods quickly and takes hold of your waist. “Fuck, yes, please.”

You can't help but tease him a little, rubbing the head of his erection over your cunt for a moment and watching how easily he works himself up with unrestrained glee.

He goes to say something smart and you seize the chance to catch him off guard. You ease your weight down onto him until finally, you're completely filled by him. It feels so good you cry out and pitch forward, bracing your hands on his chest.

Reigen chokes out a moan, grip on your waist tightening, and he screws his eyes shut. He tenses for a moment, trying to calm himself before he can manage to go on. As much as you'd like to let loose, you force yourself to be patient. If he's never done this before then you can't ride him too hard to begin with. He'll come in five seconds flat and you're desperate to feel him for as long as possible.

“Relax,” you coo, covering his hands with your own. “Look at me.”

Reigen manages to open his eyes and you smile, reassuring. “Take a deep breath, don't panic.” You say, running your thumbs over his hands. “You're doing so well.”

Reigen blushes and manages a sheepish smile, breathing in and out slowly.

After a long minute, Reigen nods for you to go on, and you lift yourself up and down slowly, thighs straining as you move. He watches you in disbelief for a second, like he's committing the sight of you to memory, and a big grin crawls onto his face. “Fuck,” he gasps. “You're so fucking hot.”

The compliment is unexpected and you feel your face warm up. Having his fingers in you feels like nothing in comparison to the way he's looking at you right now, hungry for more and leering at the sight of you on his cock.

You can't stop yourself from smiling and you roll your hips forward, slow to begin with. Each move has you both moaning and sighing, encouraging each other to give more and more until you're not sure who's fucking who anymore.

Reigen's eyes roll back when you speed up, eyes fluttering to stay open. His fingers are digging into your skin and the thrill of being bruised by him runs straight to your pussy.

The room fills with only tiny moans and sounds of fucking; No smart come backs, no more faking, just pure pleasure and excitement.

With a good pace set, you run your fingers over your clit, sighing happily as you circle your touch. It feels so good that you can't even focus on keeping rhythm, your hips stuttering a little.

Reigen seizes the moment to take charge of the moment instead of letting you control the movements, and he fucks up into you. His confidence is unexpected so you barely have time to process what happens, falling forward and leaning on his chest for support. His gaze moves from your face to where your tits bounce, and back up again. He meets your eyes and the sight of one another is enough to make both of you laugh.

He sits up a bit and presses your foreheads together, kissing you over and over, messy and uncoordinated as he gets closer. You both make soft little sounds, panting into each others space like you're desperate for air, and as your fingers work furiously over your clit, you begin to feel a coil build in your stomach; you're so close you feel like you might explode, and you cry out when Reigen snaps his hips particularly hard.

It's enough to force you over the edge and you tighten around him, body shuddering as your climax hits you. You moan his name loudly as the waves wash over you and the sensation is obviously too much for Reigen, because he buries his face in your neck and makes the most obscene noise you've ever heard.

It's somewhere between a sob and a moan, but his voice breaks halfway through and he bites down hard on your neck to stifle himself.

You can feel him cum inside you, cock twitching, and you collapse forward onto him the second he's done. Both of you go limp, lying pressed up against each other as you try to catch your breath again. Neither of you move for a while and it isn’t until you feel your thighs begin to cramp that you decide you’re going to have to get off. You lift up off of him carefully and you both groan at the loss as he slips out from you, cum trailing after his soft cock, and you flop beside him on the bed.

Reigen looks thoroughly fucked. His hair is astray and his mouth is red, lips bitten and slightly swollen from all the attention you’ve given them throughout tonight. You know you probably don’t look much better, but you’re so exhausted you can’t bring yourself to care.

You shuffle up into his side and Reigen tucks an arm under you, pulling you in close. Your eyes are growing heavy against your will and Reigen drags your leg up over his hips to make you more comfortable.

He draws circles on your skin with his thumb, breathing slowing to a normal pace. The silence is comfortable and calming, and you’re almost drifting off by the time you manage to speak again.

“You okay?" you whisper, peering up at him.

Reigen hums, a ghost of a smile on his face. “Yeah,” he says, sounding entertained. “Very.”

You laugh quietly to yourself at his smug face and snuggle closer to his side. He squeezes your upper arm gently and presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

"Are you?” He asks.

“Definitely,” you sigh happily and close your eyes. “I think we went above and beyond to convince that place tonight, don’t you?”

Reigen smiles into your hair. “Eh, maybe we should go out a few more times. Just to make sure.”

You grin into the crook of his neck. “Sure, if you’re paying.”

Reigen chuckles and gives your ass a gentle slap. “Only if you show me how much you really like swallowing.”

“Deal.”

[pickingupmymercedes]

I want South - Lewis Hamilton (NSFW)

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: unprotected sexual activities, (p in v), oral sex

Also, wrap it before you tap it

wordcount: +2K

a/n: That top, those arms, THAT CHEST. Blame Lewis and his ability to get me horny.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT.

______________________________________________________________

The rhythmic clatter of her keyboard barely registered as Y/N navigated the labyrinthine spreadsheet on her laptop. Hours had melted away since Lewis had disappeared into the steamy confines of the bathroom, a hasty "Good luck with the media" thrown over her shoulder. Between the complex financial reports and the incessant ping of emails, she hadn't even noticed him leave.

Reaching a dead end, she leaned back in her chair, stretching out her neck. A quick scroll through Instagram was supposed to be a five-minute break, a mental breather before diving back into the work abyss. But instead, her breath caught in her throat as her feed exploded with photos. Lewis. In a tank top, but not just any tank top, mind you, but a ridiculously glittery low cut one that seemed determined to defy all laws of physics and hold onto what little fabric remained.

The offending garment offered more real estate to his sculpted arms and chest than it did to any semblance of modesty.

Oh, the audacity of that man. Knowing full well the chaos he could unleash with a single outfit choice, he'd strolled into the paddock like a bronzed Adonis on display. A playful desire to ruffle his feathers bubbled up, even if he was likely neck-deep in an engineer's meeting. Picking up her phone, she crafted the first text.

Y/N: "I want to go south."

A beat. Then another. Finally, a reply popped up on the screen.

Lewis: "What are you even talking about?"

She smirked. Clearly, her cryptic opener didn't land, so time to up the ante.

Y/N: "Your compass, baby. I want south."

There. A hint. A playful nudge in the direction of his, shall we say, exposed assets. Silence again. Maybe the meeting was more intense than she thought. Or maybe – just maybe – Lewis was finally catching on.

Lewis: "Are you stalking me on social media?"

A triumphant grin stretched across her face. He finally saw it. The news articles, the fan reactions, the absolute frenzy his outfit had caused.

Y/N: "Tits out Thursday?" she sent, her fingers dancing across the keyboard. "Or is it guns out all week?"

Another, longer pause this time. The anticipation was delicious, she was having way too much fun with that. Finally, his response arrived.

Lewis: "Wth with people not behaving on main?!"

Y/N: "At least Derik put something on you that covers the nipples. This time."

Suddenly, her phone buzzed violently. Not a text, but a video call. She answered with a raised eyebrow, ready for the fire Lewis was sure to unleash. But instead, the screen showed a face flushed, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes.

"You're in serious trouble" he said, his voice low and almost husky.

"Oh, am I?" she countered, meeting his gaze with a smirk.

He chuckled, a rich, rumbling sound that sent shivers down her spine. "When I get back to the hotel, prepare for a south-bound exploration"

The line went dead, leaving her hot under her shirt and a flurry of butterflies in her stomach.

Y/N eventually managed to refocus on her work, the playful banter with Lewis now a pleasant distraction lingering in her mind. But as the clock ticked on, the anticipation of his return began to build.

It was a couple of hours later when the door to their hotel suite swung open, and Lewis stepped in, now wearing a Mercedes shirt and the infamous top in hand. He leaned against the wall, clearing his throat until she looked at him, his gaze intense.

"Hello, miss explorer” he let out with a low voice, holding out the top that had cause do much distraction.

Y/N made a show of looking down at one of his t-shirts she had been wearing since the morning, no bras or shorts under, taking if off and leaving her in only lace panties. With a playful smirk and her bottom lip caught between her teeth, she threw the shirt on the bed and sauntered confidently towards him to retrieve the tank. “Thank you, Eric, I’d say” her voice full with amusement

As she took the top from his hand, she noticed how uncomfortable he seemed in his pants, a smirk playing on her lips. She enjoyed the teasing, reveling in the power she held over him in this moment. Putting on the tank, the piece of clothing hung dangerously low on her frame, the strings that were meant to be all the way to her shoulders acting as covers to her nipples. She could feel his gaze burning into her, and she savored every moment of it.

He swallowed hard at the sight, his eyes darkening with desire as she stood before him, clad only in the top and lace panties. The tension between them crackled in the air, a silent challenge passing between them as they locked eyes.

As Lewis closed the distance between them, Y/N could feel the tension in the air thickening. With each step he took closer to her the more he seemed to tower over her frame, even if they were almost the same size.

His eyes gleamed with amusement at her feistiness, but there was something more, something primal and undeniable simmering beneath the surface. She met his gaze through her lashes, a coy smile playing on her lips as she watched him approach.

His hand reached out, fingers grazing her cheek gently, sending shivers down her spine. Y/N's breath hitched as she leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed at the sensation.

Lewis tilted her chin up with a feather-light touch, his eyes searching hers with an intensity that made her heart race. There was a silent question hanging between them, a wordless invitation that neither of them could ignore.

Unable to resist any longer, he closed the remaining distance between them, his lips capturing hers in a searing kiss. It was like fire and ice colliding, a whirlwind of passion and desire consuming them both.

Y/N melted into him, her hands finding their way to his neck as she deepened the kiss, losing herself in the intoxicating taste of him. There was no room for restraint now, no need for words as Lewis lifted her effortlessly, her body responding instinctively to his touch.

As he laid her down on the bed, a last lingering kiss was exchanged before he stepped back, his gaze dark with desire as he pushed his shirt off, revealing the toned muscles of his chest.

Her fingers went straight to undo his belt and push his pants and underwear down, eager to feel his skin against hers. But he seemed in a hurry for no reason, his movements frantic and impatient.

"Hey," Y/N murmured softly, her voice a gentle reminder of the moment they shared. "Let me savor this."

He paused, his eyes meeting hers with a mixture of longing and anticipation, he breathed, his voice husky with desire. "I can't get enough of you."

A tender smile graced her lips as she reached out to trace the compass tattoo on his chest, a silent reminder of her first text that afternoon. "I still want South, you know…" she whispered, her touch feather-light against his skin.

His breath hitched at her touch, a shiver running down his spine. "How could I forget?" he murmured; his voice laced with desire. Her fingers continued to trace the intricate lines of the compass tattoo on his chest, each featherlike touch sending a shiver of anticipation through his body.

Lewis sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling her gently into his lap, their bodies fitting together. She was straddling him and had full access to his tattooed chest. He leaned back slightly, allowing her to explore every inch of the inked design with her fingers, his eyes never leaving hers.

"South, huh?" he replied, his voice husky with desire. " I'm more than willing to be your guide."

In her inner thigh she could feel his already semi hard dick, slightly jerking each time she moaned mid kiss into Lewis’ mouth. His fingers sent butterflies into her stomach each time he grabbed at her skin, almost as if he was searched for something to ground him to earth.

Unable to resist the pull of their desires any longer, her hands slid down his chest, reaching for his cock, but she stopped short when she heard him moan. "Okay there, champ?" she teased, a playful smirk dancing on her lips.

His hands immediately went to her covered pussy, covering her whole pelvis as his gaze held hers, desire burning in his eyes. "More than okay," he replied, his voice husky and low.

She chuckled softly, her fingers trailing lightly along his jawline as she leaned in to place a tender kiss on his lips. "I don’t think I could wait much longer" she murmured against his mouth, her breath mingling with his in the intimate space between them.

Y/n didn’t have to repeat for Lewis to pull her lace lingerie to the side and pull her up on his laps, brushing his tips a few times in her sleek, mixing hers to his own “No need for lube” his smile beaming with pride as he reveled in the fact, he could always get her there, even with almost no foreplay.

“Gloating then, are we?!” one of her hands came to wrap around his in his dick, signaling that she was more than ready and willing to take control. He let her, wrapping his fingers in her hips and paying his full attention on her face, waiting to see it contort with pleasure as she sunk into his hard member.

Her walls enveloped him tightly, her moans sending his own body into overdrive. She stopped and steadied herself halfway through, her controlled breathing a stark contrast to her beating heart. He caressed the skin between her hips and ass to sooth her, his touch gentle and reassuring.

Her head fell to the side as she resumed the descend until their thighs touched and her clit hit his pelvic bone “Gosh, you always make me so full”, she gasped, her voice a mixture of pleasure and desire.

He matched her rhythm with slow, deliberate thrusts upwards, his movements syncing perfectly with hers as they moved together in a dance of passion and desire. With each thrust, he felt her walls clench around him, her moans growing louder everything his dick brushed past that sweet spot.

Just as he felt her walls start to flutter around him, he reached for her clit, his touch sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her body. With one angled thrust, she shattered, her body convulsing with pleasure as she reached her climax, her moans filling the room as he pulled himself up and held her convulsing legs, savoring the feeling of her release still buried inside her.

As Y/N came back from her high, her body still thrumming with the aftershocks, she felt a sense of contentment wash over her. When she opened her eyes again, she found herself lying on her back on the plush covers and pillows, Lewis's face inches from hers, his member still buried deep inside her.

"Hi," he murmured, his voice husky with a sweetly sick smile playing on his lips. With a swift movement, he pulled his top down from her body, exposing her breasts from the straps on both sides, and gave each of them a tender kiss.

Just as she thought he would linger in this moment of tenderness; his eyes grew dark again. Without warning, he started to hammer into her, his movements urgent and frenzied. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, her heels digging into his back as she surrendered to him.

His hands held her legs up, allowing him to penetrate her even deeper, his thrusts driving her wild with ecstasy, her nails finding in his chest the place to sink and ground her.

As Lewis picked up the pace, the rhythm of their bodies melded into one, each thrust driving them closer to the edge. A thin layer of sweat coated their skin, aiding the glide of his body on hers as they moved together.

As he approached his release, his movements became more urgent, more desperate, his need for release evident in every grunt. When she felt him start to falter, his thrusts losing their rhythm, his hands reached for her ass, pulling them apart to allow impossibly deeper access to her.

With each thrust, his tip hit her cervix, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body. She felt herself teetering on the edge of oblivion, her hands inadvertently reaching for his ass to try and make him thrust deeper, her senses overwhelmed by the intensity of their movements.

And just as she thought she couldn't take any more, she came undone, her body convulsing with pleasure as waves of ecstasy washed over her again. Lewis wasn't far behind, his own release tearing through him with a force that left him breathless.

But as he spilled himself into her, filling her with his semen, they both heard a knock at the door, pulling them both out of their frenzies.

Y/N couldn't help but giggle as Lewis huffed with annoyance, his face flushed with exertion as he glanced towards the door, a mixture of frustration and desire evident in his eyes as he shouted, still deep inside her, that they needed another hour to get ready.

The knocking persisted, growing louder and more insistent with each passing moment, until finally, Lewis reluctantly pulled himself away from her, his body still tingling with the aftershocks of pleasure. With a muttered curse, he made his way to the door, his movements slightly unsteady as he attempted to compose himself and hide his lower part with a towel he grabbed going for the door

Y/N watched him, now propped up on her elbow on the bed, a playful smirk playing on her lips as she reveled in the sight of him, disheveled and breathless, his desire for her still evident in every line of his body.

As Lewis opened the door to reveal Daniel standing on the other side, a sheepish grin on his face, she couldn't help but laugh as Daniel’s brain processed the state of the room and Y/n wearing the glittery top on the bed, a gasp coming from his throat before he muttered "Right, another hour then?! Make it two.” Already on his way to his own room, hands on his eyes and Lewis closing the door.

“I think we could have some fun with that extra hour” his eyes darkening again as he approached her on the bed, his fingers finding his seed now seeping out of her pussy.

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora

[imloyaltoscoups]

it's fiction | jeon wonwoo

Wonwoo leans on the door frame, his arms crossed, looking at you focused on your laptop. Your fingers keep typing nonstop, the clatter of keys the only sound in the room.

"You've been engrossed with your laptop for days," he says, breaking the silence.

You stop typing and close your laptop immediately, turning your head to look at him. "It's just some research stuff," you reply, trying to sound casual. But the truth is, he has no idea you're writing a fanfic about him—not just any fic, but a R18+ one.

You stand up and walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist in a hug. "Soo how's the progress on the album with Hans?" you ask, hoping to divert his attention.

He rests his chin on top of your head, his arms encircling you in return. "It's going well," he says softly. "Just preparing for the MV maybe this coming week or so... But I'm more curious about what you've been working on."

You feel your cheeks heat up, your heart racing as you hold him tighter, "I'm just searching for a new game that's all," you reply, trying to sound convincing.

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Your chrome isn't even open."

You look up at him, caught off guard. He points to his glasses. "My vision is clear," he says, smiling.

You let out a nervous laugh, your mind racing to come up with another excuse. But the way he’s looking at you, with that teasing glint in his eyes, makes it hard to think straight. So instead, you tighten your grip around his waist, hiding your face in his chest.

"Okay four eyes, you caught me," you mumble into his shirt. "But it's really nothing."

He chuckles, his hand coming up to gently stroke your hair. "Alright, I'll let it slide for now. But next time, maybe you can show me what you've been working on?"

Your heart skips a beat, and you can only hope he never finds out the real reason behind your late-night typing sessions.

He then gently removes your arms from around his waist and he directly head straight to your workstation. Panic sets in as you rush to stop him, wrapping your arms around his torso from behind.

"Yaaaa, wait!" you plead, trying to hold him back. "You said you will let it slideee."

He laughs, a deep, genuine sound, and continues to move forward, dragging you along with him. "What are you hiding, hmm?" he teases, enjoying your struggle.

"Seriously, it's nothing!" you insist, your grip tightens.

He pauses, turning his head slightly to look at you over his shoulder, still smiling. "You know, you're making me even more curious."

You groan, knowing he won’t give up easily. "It's just… embarrassing, okay?"

He turns around fully, facing you, his expression softening a bit. "I won't judge, you know that," he says gently.

You hesitate, then sigh, loosening your hold on him. "Fine. Again don't judge me and don't even laugh." as you point your finger on him.

He grins, reaching out to lift your chin. "I promise."

With a reluctant nod, you step aside, watching nervously as he approaches the table.

Wonwoo sits on your chair and opens the laptop, starting to read. You panic and cover his eyes as he begins to speak, "Really, babe?"

"Stop, stop," you nervously plead.

He removes your hands from his glasses and looks up at you. "I thought you didn't like being rough, but here? You even describe my dick well, props to that," he says, a teasing glint in his eyes.

You cover your face with your hands, feeling the heat of embarrassment spreading across your cheeks. He grabs your waist and settles you on his lap, and you nudge your face into his neck, mumbling, "It's just fiction."

He chuckles, "But the details… wait, am I a mafia boss here?"

You blush even more deeply. "And how do you know this kind of position? We haven't even tried this one yet," he continues.

"Stop reading." You plead, but he ignores you and keeps reading.

"Have you been watching porn while I'm away?" he asks.

"It's just for reference, Won," you reply weakly. "You know I have more experience than you, right?" he counters.

"Well, then it wouldn't be fiction, it would be like your diary or something," you retort, looking at him. "And my readers like this kind of stuff."

He laughs and scrolls down, continuing to read. "And you even make me a cold, possessive jerk? Really, babe?"

You bury your face in his shoulder, mortified yet unable to suppress a giggle at his reaction.

"Well, this is already a fanfic since you made me a mafia boss," Wonwoo remarks, pausing in his reading. "You make Mingyu my rival... wait, will he... uh, fuck around with the female lead too?"

He's now fully invested, and you try to cover the screen, but he removes your hand, his expression turning serious. "Behave," he instructs firmly.

"Why is the female named as Y/N?" he asks, his tone softer now as he realizes you're writing a reader-insert fanfic.

You hesitate to answer, but he catches on, teasing you, "So you're imagining yourself being fucked by a mafia boss, huh?"

"It's not like that," you deny it quickly,

He chuckles, shaking his head. "You know, you're missing some details in this sex part," he points out, gesturing to the screen.

"What's wrong with that?" you ask, feeling defensive.

"Since you haven't tried this position, you need to experience it firsthand to be able to describe it accurately," he explains matter-of-factly.

He then stops reading, setting your laptop aside. You think it's over, so you stand up. He does too, but to your surprise, he grabs your hand and drags you to a nearby couch in the room.

As Wonwoo positions you on the couch, he bends you at the waist, your upper body resting on the cushions while the arm of the couch supports your hips. Before you can fully comprehend what's happening, he swiftly removes your shorts along with your underwear, making you gasp in surprise and arousal.

He leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. "You know, I read something in your story about fingering and sucking first," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "Before... before fucking her hard."

You shiver at his words, feeling a rush of heat pooling between your legs. "Y-yes," you manage to reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

Without further preamble, he descends upon you, his lips trailing hot kisses along the curve of your neck. But his touch is not gentle; it's rough, demanding, leaving marks of his passion in its wake. He bites down on your skin, his teeth grazing against your flesh, leaving you gasping for more.

As his lips find their way to your shoulder, With a wicked grin, he murmurs against your skin, "Let's see if I got your story right." he grips your thighs tightly, parting them with a force that sends a jolt of pleasure through you. His touch is possessive, his fingers digging into your skin as he explores every inch of your body with a hunger that leaves you trembling.

Your breath catches in your throat as his words send a shiver of anticipation down your spine. You nod, unable to form coherent words, your heart pounding in your chest.

And then, without warning, he lowers his head between your thighs, his mouth claiming you with a primal urgency. He doesn't hold back: his tongue is rough and insistent, lapping at your core with a fierce intensity that threatens to drive you over the edge.

But it's not just his tongue that drives you wild; it's his teeth, sinking into your flesh with a delicious sting that sends waves of pleasure coursing through you. He bites and sucks with abandon, his mouth a whirlwind of sensation that leaves you teetering on the brink of ecstasy.

You then gasp as Wonwoo inserts his fingers roughly, the sensation sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. His roughness only intensifies as he continues to suck and lick you, driving you to the edge with each relentless stroke.

When you finally reach your climax, the pleasure is so intense that you can't help but squirt, your juices spilling over his face in a hot, sticky mess. He doesn't flinch; instead, he stands up, slapping your ass roughly as you continue to leak your essence, the sensation sending shivers of pleasure coursing through you.

With a primal growl, he positions himself between your legs, straddling you as he forcefully slaps his cock into you like an animal. In this position, there's no room for romance—no eye contact, no kissing, no caressing. It's pure, raw, animalistic fucking, and you revel in it.

As he takes you from behind, you can feel his gaze burning into you, consuming you with lust as he uses you for his pleasure. You lowkey love it—the feeling of being dominated, of being nothing more than an object for his satisfaction. It awakens something primal within you, igniting your submissive side like never before.

As Wonwoo continues to pound into you with primal intensity, his breath ragged and his movements rough, he begins to utter possessive lines, echoing the ones you wrote in your fanfic.

"You like it when I degrade you, don't you?" he growls, his voice thick with lust. "You love being used like this, don't you, you filthy little slut?"

His words send a shiver of excitement down your spine. You find yourself nodding eagerly, unable to form coherent words as pleasure clouds your mind.

He continues, his voice dripping with possessiveness. "You're mine, Y/N," he declares, his grip tightening on your hips as he drives himself deeper into you. "No one else can have you like this. You belong to me, body and soul. Say it."

You moan in response, unable to resist his command. "I'm yours," you gasp, the words coming out in a breathless whisper.

"That's right," he murmurs, he then delivers a sharp slap to your ass. "And don't you forget it. You're mine to use, to pleasure, to fuck however I want."

Wonwoo's thrusts grow deeper and rougher, each movement driving you closer to the edge of ecstasy. Your bodies collide with a primal rhythm, the sound of skin against skin echoing through the room.

He hisses in pleasure, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "You're so tight," he gasps, the words slipping out between clenched teeth. "Even after all this time, you still feel so fucking good."

With a final, powerful thrust, he releases his hot, sticky essence deep inside you, filling you completely with his fluid. The sensation sends you over the edge, your climax crashing over you like a tidal wave.

Wonwoo pulls his cock out, releasing the last of his cum onto your back. You breathe heavily, reveling in the fact that this is the first time he's been so rough with you during sex. He then gently picks you up and settles you both onto the couch.

As he plays with your hair, he smirks and asks, "So, who’s the better fuck—the mafia version of me or the real thing?"

You squint your eyes at his absurd question, trying to suppress a laugh. "It's just fiction, Babe, Mere fiction," you reply, shaking your head.

He chuckles, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips. "I know, I know," he says, his voice gentle. "I was just curious... At least you got to experience the sex position you wrote about," he added as he resumes on toying with your hair. "And if you need to try more for the sake of realism in your stories, I'd be open to it. No need for extra research when you have me."

You roll your eyes playfully, leaning against him. "Whatever." But he's not done yet, his curiosity getting the better of him.

"Are there other stories you've written that I haven't read? Are they rated 18? And do you write about other members too?" he fires off questions.

Before he can ask more, you hush his mouth with a kiss, which he eagerly reciprocates, pulling you closer. You sense there might be another round, but this time, he'll be gentle like he used to be.

....... ≿━━━༺WONWOO༻━━━≾ .......

[eternalsams]

Never Again ↝ Tyler Owens

pairing: Tyler Owens x gn!reader

content/warning: bit of fluff, pet names, mention of sex (but no description whatsoever), mockery, swearing, slight angst

summary: When Tyler is invited on a talk show about his notoriety on YouTube, he doesn't expect that kind of meeting.

words count: 1.6k

notes: english isn't my first language, please take that into consideration. NOT PROOF READ

You just came home from the groceries, your arms loaded with full bags and balancing yourself not to drop the keys when Tyler almost jumped on you. "Babe, I'm gonna be on TV!" He exclaimed, holding his phone and showing you the email he received. You blinked at him and didn't answer immediately, trying to process his words. "You what?" You then asked. He slipped his phone in the back pocket of his jeans and grabbed the two bags you were carrying, helping you get everything inside. "They somehow found my email and asked me if I wanted to be interviewed on live TV. National TV, babe!" He laughed and his phone started ringing. He pulled it out and his smile widened. "It's Boone. Don't worry about the groceries, I'll store everything myself, beautiful." He answered the phone and went to your shared room to call his best friend. You could hear his excited voice as him and Boone started getting each other going about the whole thing.

You grabbed Tyler's laptop and opened his mails, reading the last one he received. He was right, it was a big thing. The Tornado Wranglers would get a lot of new visibility with that interview. You were excited for Tyler, he loved being on camera, that was for sure. But he also loved meeting people who were interested in what he was doing. With that interview, he had the chance of showing the whole country how fascinating weather could truly be. You were disrupted in your reading by Tyler's scream in the bedroom, quickly followed by a loud laugh. You chuckled at how excited he was and closed the laptop before starting to put away the groceries. Tyler quickly joined you after his numerous phone calls and gently scolded you when he noticed you started storing the groceries while he said he'd do it himself.

"Did you answer yet?" You asked him after the euphoria of the moment passed. "No, not yet." He chuckled as he grabbed a piece of bread to eat it. "I wanted to tell you and the guys first. But especially you. What do you think?" He then asked, looking into your eyes. "I think it's amazing, Tyler. You're so passionate about what you do and you know so much. You'll be able to show people how interesting the weather can be. Maybe some kids are gonna go study meteorology because of you." You smiled at him as you grabbed his hand in yours. Your boyfriend smiled at you and brought your hand to his lips to place a delicate kiss on your knuckles. "It's gonna be amazing." He practically day-dreamed. You laughed and bent over the table to gently kiss his lips, your hand taking place on his cheek.

Two weeks later, you were standing behind Tyler as a girl brushed some mattifying powder on his face. He didn't tell you but you knew his heart was beating fast and hard in his chest, both from excitement and anxiety. He was so scared to make a fool of himself, to fumble over his words and look like he was a fraud. When the makeup artist finished her job, someone opened the door and announced you had 5 minutes left before Tyler was called on-stage. "You ready?" You asked, smoothing his flannel shirt. "Why is my heart beating so fast? I drive through tornado for a living, I shouldn't be scared of this." He sighed, carefully rubbing his eyes not to ruin the makeup artist's work. "Don't worry, it's just the nerves. You'll be great." You ran your fingers in his hair, styling it the way you loved it and he kept it everyday. "I'm just a bit upset Boone and the others weren't invited. We're a team, they should be there too." He closed his eyes and tried to focus on your fingers against his scalp.

The door opened one last time and a man called for Tyler. You kissed his cheek and wished him good luck before you watched him leave with the man to get everything checked for the mic. A woman came to lead you in another room where the program was on TV. You thanked her and grabbed a glass of water before taking a seat on the sofa. A few minutes later, Tyler was called on-stage and you saw him on the TV. He was smiling like a kid on Christmas morning as he shook the host's hand and took a seat in front of the man. A wide smile took place on your lips as you watched the man you love glow with pride on cameras.

"Tyler, I'm so glad you could join us tonight. You have quite a reputation on the internet!" The host started when the applause stopped in the audience. "The pleasure is mutual, thank you very much for the invite. It's an honor to be here." Tyler said, looking around at the audience. "For anyone who doesn't know Tyler, he posts videos on YouTube of himself and his staff driving through tornados in Oklahoma and Arkansas. You must be some crazy fella to do this willingly!" The man said, making the audience laugh and Tyler chuckled. "It's a good summary, yes. But we're professionals, we are equipped to do so and we only drive through EF1s or small EF2s." Tyler reminded with a smile. "EF1, EF2, what's that?" You knew the host wasn't stupid enough to not know what that meant, but you were grateful that Tyler could explain it, the passion on his face was pure gold. "It's a scale we give tornados. But what's really interesting is that we don't scale a tornado according to its size or its speed. We give them their scale according to their damages." Tyler explained. "So how do you know you're driving through an EF1 and not an EF5?" The host asked. "I studied meteorology so I can identify whether it's gonna turn bad or not and if I catch a single sign it's gonna turn violent, we just leave and find shelter." He explained with simple words.

"So you studied meteorology, got a degree, and still shoot fireworks up tornados for YouTube?" The man laughed and you could see something break inside Tyler's eyes. He played it off and chuckled. "Well, yes. I love that job, I'm having fun with my best friends and entertaining people. That's the dream." He laughed and looked around, starting to notice some unpleasant looks in the audience. "And have you ever tried doing anything else in that car when the tornado is hitting you? I don't know, read a book, play scrabble or even have sex." New laughter were heard in the audience as the host laughed at his own joke. A dry smile stretched Tyler's lips as he slowly nodded, thinking about how to answer this. He couldn't just leave, he wanted to be the more mature on this stage. Before he could even say anything, the host looked back at him with a smile. "Your partner is part of your team, right? Maybe if you asked, you could get a lot of views." He joked, making Tyler's blood boil in his veins. "That won't be YouTube anymore, that's more like reality show. That's not what we do." Some laughter were heard in the audience but he knew better.

"Alright, alright... But be honest for a minute, you have a million followers on YouTube, your whole staff-" The host started to say. "We're a team. I'm not the boss, I'm only the driver." Tyler corrected and you could feel he started to lose his patience. "Your team is very active on social media, you must've had some weird requests." The host then asked, faking a smile for the television. Tyler knew what he was trying to do, he wanted him to admit he'd been asked for a sextape through a tornado. And even though he received that peculiar request once or twice, nobody needed to know. You and him would never record that kind of video to post on the internet. "Someone once asked us to eat a pizza. And we all ended up having tomato sauce all over our faces." Tyler answered with a chuckle, now counting down the minutes before the end of the show. You watched as Tyler started to tap his foot in annoyance and you almost prayed for the host to stop his disrespectful questions.

The show regained a more respectful rhythm and when Tyler was dismissed, he immediately joined you in the backroom. "Let's go." He only said, grabbing your bag before taking your hand in his and walking, if not running, to the exit. He didn't say anything more until you were both in the car. He didn't start the engine, only staring at the steering wheel. "Tyler?" You gently put your hand on his arm but he violently hit the wheel with his hand. "Fuck! I really thought... I'm so stupid for thinking they'd be willing to listen to me." He rubbed his face and fought the tears away. Shame, embarrassement and anger were swirling inside him. "It's not your fault, Tyler. They were real bastards in there, you didn't deserve this." You tried to calm him down. You leaned over and placed a kiss on his shoulder, feeling him breathe deeply and relax. "Come on, let's go back to the hotel and tomorrow we'll have our flight home. You can tell Boone New York was shit and he'll tell you 'I told you so' before offering you a beer." You chuckled softly as you gently stroked his arm. Tyler nodded and started the rental before driving to your hotel. At least the show runners had the decency to pay for everything.

taglist:

@iliketopgun @callsigns-haze @toxiqueamour @choppedgalaxynerd @luvrofdilfsandmilfs @y-nk-live @books4ever03 @hookslove1592 @ipowell-tyler @floydsglasses @blue-aconite @28cnn @iscience02

@senawashere @melidot @cevansbaby-dove @katiemcrae @twisterschaser @starsrfun @lovemmay @lyn-js @lynnestra44 @classyunknownlover @imaginesofdreams @horseslovers2016

@og-baby-ob14 @attastarkey @sehnsuchts-trunken @tngrace @rockandrollbuckarooo @natzp03 @havaneselover08 @callsignrambam @trustingmina @obsessed-fan-alert @siriuslysirius05

@goodoldfashionedunderdog @xsoultruthx @hotsauceeater @mae-murdock @kadygirl @zombiedixon89 @kamperzz @lokisvariant @nixlikestix8 @another-tblr-fangirl @wpdarlingpan @puttyly

[tasteracha]

lollipop

word count: 1.6k

warnings: afab!reader, oral (m receiving), smut - MINORS DNI

synopsis: felix has an oral fixation.

it starts with a lollipop. he hands you one while you’re working on your laptop, sat at the kitchen counter while he fixes himself a smoothie. you take it in your hand without looking at it, thanking him under your breath as your eyes glaze over on the thirty page article you’ve been assigned to read. it’s not uncommon for him to give you something sugary while you’re working, he knows you have a sweet tooth and he keeps jars of candy stocked just for you. 

“you want a taste?” you quirk an eyebrow at him when he realizes he’s been staring, holding the lollipop out at him. he nods, moving towards you with an open mouth, and you’re quick to move your own mouth to his instead. he moans in surprise into your mouth as you swirl your tongue around his, transferring the sweet taste to him. when you pull back he’s flushed, pink cheeks and ears on display, and you smirk as you go back to your article, sticking the candy back in your mouth. he gulps down his smoothie and leaves the room faster than you’ve ever seen him, but you don’t notice, too focused on finishing your work.

you’ve forgotten about it by the next day, when he deposits an iced coffee to you when he gets home from his dance studio. the straw is already stuck in the lid but the drink is full, evidence of how he tried a sip on his way back and made a face when he realized he didn’t like it. you don’t know why he does this every time, he knows he doesn’t like your coffee order and yet he needs to try it every time like one day he will miraculously enjoy it. 

you’ve forgotten about it by the next day, when he deposits an iced coffee to you when he gets home from his dance studio. the straw is already stuck in the lid but the drink is full, evidence of how he tried a sip on his way back and made a face when he realized he didn’t like it. you don’t know why he does this every time, he knows he doesn’t like your coffee order and yet he needs to try it every time like one day he will miraculously enjoy it. 

you immediately take the straw into your mouth, suddenly parched as you take several sips of the drink, enjoying the way the cool liquid feels in your mouth. 

“thanks, lix,” you smile up at him. “just what i needed.”

he’s still standing in front of you, looking down at you from where you’re sitting on the couch, and the expression on his face looks almost hungry. his eyes are dark, hooded and framed by dark lashes, and you blink up at him in confusion as you take another sip. did he put something in the drink?

“what?” you finally ask once a few beats of silence pass on. it’s a little creepy the way he’s staring, but its felix so anything he does just ends up looking endearing rather than wrong.

“nothing,” he shakes his head, pushing your drink back to your mouth. “drink.”

his eyes are locked onto the straw entering your mouth, the way your lips wrap around it, the hollow of your cheeks as you suck and oh. it clicks into place, and you make a show of taking the straw just a bit deeper into your mouth just to watch his eyes darken further. he shifts his feet a bit, uncomfortable, and you hold back the smirk your lips want to curl into.

“you should take a shower, babe,” you say sweetly, putting the drink down and leaning forward in your seat a bit so your mouth is near his hips. “you’re sweaty from practice, no?”

“yeah,” he chokes out, clearing his throat. “i’ll do. that.” 

he scrambles out of the room and you’re left alone, burdened with new knowledge. you bite your lip, a bit dazzled by his blatant self serving behavior; how often has he brought you coffee just to watch you suck on the straw like that? how have you just now noticed? how long has this been going on?

you decide to take control of the situation, having been with him long enough to know that he would keep this game up for days or even weeks until he snapped. you were not willing to wait that long. you weren’t willing to wait at all, apparently, as your feet walked you to the bathroom before you realized where you were going.  

“what are you doing?” he squeaks when you open the shower door, already stripping out of your sweatpants and t-shirt. his face is still flushed, worse from the steaming water he has beating down on him, and he moves to cover himself in a futile effort. as if you haven’t seen all of him before, time after time. 

“isn’t this what you wanted, lix?’ you purr, dropping down to your knees in front of him. “don’t get shy on me now.”

the shower tiles are hard under your knees but you don’t care; there’s more important things to worry about right now than the weird bruises you’ll have there tomorrow. for one, the flushed cock, half hard, right in front of your face. it’s pretty, of course it is, everything about felix is pretty. 

you’re sure you make quite the image yourself, wide eyes looking up at him, lips pink and bitten, hair dripping from the spray of the shower catching you around his body. 

you take him into your hand, thumbing at his slit and reveling in how he hisses and braces a hand against the wall. you let the tip of his cock into your mouth, sighing in contentment around it as you suck lightly. it fits in your mouth so well, like it was made just for you; you’re the only one who would ever see it, touch it, feel it inside of you for the rest of time and the power that gives you makes your head spin. 

he draws a deep breath when you take him deeper, and you can feel how tense he is trying to hold himself back. you suck a little harder, hollowing your cheeks and it punches out a strangled moan from him. the sound of the water hitting the floor is drowned away by the melody of sounds he’s making for you. 

“poor baby, you’ve gotten yourself all worked out, hmm? want to take it out on me?” you draw back with a pop, taking small breaths as you move to mouth at his balls. your hands drift to steady his legs when you feel his knees tremble, and you move to nuzzle his inner thigh with your cheek. his skin is soft, milky white and smooth and you want to litter it with bruises left behind by your mouth. another time though, you muse as you peer up at him and shiver at his intense gaze. 

“you drive me crazy,” he says, voice as unsteady as his knees, contested by the dark, possessive glint in his eyes. 

you jerk him off in evenly paced strokes, going back to swirl at his tip with your tongue, exactly the way you know drives him mad. you’re twirling around him like you did the lollipop he brought you, sucking like you did on the straw, the things that he’s lined up in the past 24 hours falling into place like dominos. 

you let your teeth graze the vein on the bottom of his cock, tracing against it with your tongue afterwards, your eyes fluttering when his knees go a little weaker and he dips down just a bit. 

“so pretty,” he groans out, voice impossibly deep as he’s thrusting shallowly into your mouth in a show of restraint. his dancer’s legs are coming into handy, his muscles flexing under the strain as he resists from fucking into your throat. “such a pretty mouth, hmm? and all mine.”

you hum around him in response, eagerly sucking him down as far as you can. his hand reaches to dig into your hair, grasping your strands between his fingers. he doesn’t tug, not until you moan around him and he jerks his hand a bit, and the slight pinpricks of pain shoot right down your spine; you can feel yourself getting wet, incredibly turned on, but you ignore it. this isn’t about you. 

he bucks into your mouth a bit and you choke, pulling back to squeeze at his shaft in a silent warning. tears prick at your eyes and a string of saliva connects your lips to him, dirty and lewd and he's staring at you like he wants to take a picture of you right now, lips and hand wrapped around his cock, to keep forever. he’s close, you know he is by the way his head is tipped back into the shower spray and his chest is heaving with labored breaths. 

“you’re so good, baby,” he groans, tugging you by the hair back onto his cock. “so good to me. like you were made just for this.”

you swallow hard around him before backing away, jerking him off quickly and lolling your tongue out just in time to catch his release on it. a little dribbles onto your chin as you swallow and you whine as he wipes it away with his thumb. you close your eyes and lean back, utterly content despite having not been touched at all. doing this for him, making him feel good, has always been enough to satisfy you. 

“what was that about?” he says once he gets his breath back, helping you to your feet when your knees buckle as you try stand. he turns you around so you’re under the spray and he massages expert fingers through your scalp, as if in apology for the pulling he did earlier. 

“your fault,” you breathe out, leaning back into him. you hate how spent you feel compared to him, even though he’s the one who just came. “you left me a trail of breadcrumbs, i just followed them.”

“does that make me a loaf of bread?” he jokes, pressing a soft kiss to your bare shoulder, his breath tickling your skin. 

[youronlydarlin]

What if sleep deprived!reader is doing work late at night again, and what if Price fucks her to sleep ;) ((This has been in my mind for a week now)) (Im using anonymous because Im still shy-)

Hnhhhhh. S' is so fuckin hot nonnie.

warning: fem! reader, kinda brat tamer! Price and a very eepy reader, somewhat dumbification, rough sex to soft sex, somnophilia at the end, not proofread 😢

You know your husband hates it when you stay up late. Moreover if it was work he couldn't convince you to finish in the morning. But were you really to blame here? It's not your fault the deadline got pushed early. Besides, you wouldn't be doing this if you didn't have to.

That was the philosophy you believed in up until your husband came in and decided to put you to bed himself.

You were always so stubborn, but you were adding a whole new flare to it earlier. Making a big show about how "you have to finish the report now, lest you want your boss to beat your ass". And he understands, really, he does. A man with his line of work would understand the calling of responsibility more than anybody. Maybe the late hours of the night has finally gotten into your head. Cause that certainly wasn't an excuse to act up, talking back, and thinking you could banish him to the bed with only the presence of one. No, young lady that attitude will not be tolerated. What happened to his good girl, huh?

But you see, John's always spoiled you. Even during one of your fights, and tantrums. Since you wanted to finish your papers so much John decides to be the bigger person, and give you exactly what. You. Want.

This leads us to now. Both of your wrists are pinned against your back, John using them as nothing but a handle to fuck you back on his fat cock. You feel like a doll, all limp as you're fucked within an inch of your life right by your work desk.

You want to sleep. To slip into dreamland. But the bright light from your opened laptop, paired up with your husbands unrelenting thrusts inside your tight pussy prevents you from even closing your eyes.

Open mouthed, and mindlessly drooling on the papers you were fussing over earlier, John thinks you look best like this. Someone as pretty as you shouldn't be working, much less overexerting herself.

He takes pity on you. His poor, sweet, baby. You're just being forced by your stupid job to comply with even stupider work. Shhh, hush now, sweet thing. Your husband's here to help.

Thrusts slowing down, he gently lets go of both of your wrists. Seeing them carelessly fall to your side makes him coo softly at you. You're being picked up before your mind can even process the action. The blur in your vision makes the colors blend in with each other, and for a moment you see the world like a kaleidoscope.

Fatigue latches onto your bones like a pesky leach. The only thing grounding you is the fat cock nestled within your core. The jostle of a mattress takes you out of your delirium, the softness of silk against your back feels like heaven. What was supposed to be a satisfied sigh quickly turns into a pleasured moan as John gives a shallow thrust into your puffy pussy.

He knows your tired, but he just couldn't help himself. Seeing his princess finally in bed like she deserves. Whining and groaning, you can't eve bring yourself to lift up your arms and tell him to give it a rest. Give you a rest. But, he's doing you a favor can't you see?

John's leaning down in a second, kissing your temple shut. You feel your body slowly succumb to his ministrations. Whispering soft praises into your ear, while he grinds himself aimlessly in your velvet walls.

The feeling of it is oddly more relaxing than stimulating. Eyes closed, you feel powerless even as John slightly picks up his pace. You've accepted defeat, finally falling into the wistful sleep your body has craved. And John thinks you look absolutely breathtaking like this. Always so beautiful without trying. He gets closer and closer to release, using your unconscious body to get himself off. Cumming deep inside of your pretty, princess pussy.

a/n: AHHHHH. M' sorry for only being able to answer your request today nonnie, I know you sent this yesterday 😞 also like. I didn't know if you wanted something soft or rough, so I just added both. Also, this was a lot of fun to write! No pressure on keeping yourself anonymous, jus' know that you can always send in your horny thoughts. N e ways, I hope you enjoyed this! Have a wonderful day/night, my loves!

Yours, truly,

–dolly

[benedictscanvas]

saved you a seat - jamie tartt x reader

pairing: jamie tartt x reader

word count: 3.1k of pure fluff

a/n: no warnings for this one except language, obviously. i just wanted to imagine having a fluffy little coach trip with jamie tartt so i hope there are others out there who want to imagine the same. requests are SO open for jamie/roy/sam/ted please do send some ideas <3

---

You weren’t quite sure how you’d managed to engineer this situation, but you were worried that if you thought about it too hard, you might end up losing it. Somehow, on a coach to Amsterdam, you’d ended up wedged between a window and Jamie Tartt and despite that being the stuff of nightmares only about a year ago, now it was something you couldn’t have hoped for in advance.

“I said I’d save a seat for ya, didn’t I?” he’d claimed proudly when you shimmied past him to sit in the window seat.  He’d been smiling hopefully at you as he patted it when you’d walked down the aisle of the coach. You’d thought you’d be sitting with Rebecca at the back until he’d tugged at your wrist to stop you in your tracks.

“To be totally transparent, I thought you were joking,” you murmured to him once you were settled, bag tucked underneath your seat, “You also said the same to Roy yesterday, and I heard you saying it to Sam this morning.”

“Yeah, but I was fuckin’ with them,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “Besides, we have a whole conditioner campaign to plan, right? Now’s as good a time to start as any.”

You tried not to let your heart sink a little. Of course it was work-related. You’d just have to be happy with the grin he was sporting as he nudged your arm.

“You’re on,” you grinned back, then, with a show of boldness, “But only if you promise not to complain when I inevitably fall asleep on you later.”

If anything, his grin grows wider.

“Shoulder’s all yours, love. I’m told it’s pretty comfy.”

“Who’s told you that? Roy?”

He rolls his eyes, but it’s too fond. You busy yourself trying to manoeuvre your laptop out of your bag, but a hand on yours stops you in your tracks. When you look up, Jamie’s face is soft and he’s tucking your laptop away again.

“Relax. The coach’ll take hours yet. We can get comfy first, yeah?”

“You’re right,” you concede, shuffling into the back of your seat again with a content sigh, “Don’t know why I’m pretending to be eager to work.”

He laughs and you join in. You want to tell him he’s got a downright infectious laugh these days, because its lighter than ever and always filled with genuine happiness, but you don’t. Too much. Instead, you push up on the back of the seat in front of you to tap Dani urgently on the shoulder, then sit down quickly and turn a fake-reprimanding glance at Jamie.

“What is it, amigo?” he directs his question towards Jamie who’s looking incredulous, “Or are you playing a cheeky prank?”

You tut and sink further into your seat as you shake your head at Jamie. He begins to point at you, but Dani is already ruffling Jamie’s hair and turning back around as he mutters happily in Spanish. Jamie turns to you, brows furrowed.

“So that’s how it’s gonna be, eh?”

You shrug, as playful as you can manage with your heart beating a little harder in your chest. He narrows his eyes at you, then settles into his seat, and you know he’s plotting revenge. You can’t wait.

---

It’s been an hour and a half, and you and Jamie have been going back and forth almost the entire time, the very idea of doing any work on his new ad campaign buried in favour of having fun. Jamie had snuck your phone from your lap and prank called Ted who was sat at the back of the bus. You’d then somehow managed to do the same with Jamie’s phone, but decided to send a rather inflammatory text to Jan Maas, which was followed by a half hour argument between the two men that was incredibly entertaining.

Most recently, Jamie had made a terrible noise putting his mouth to his elbow and blamed it on you, but luckily Sam had seen him do it and you’d been able to clear your name. It had been a stellar effort though, so you were giving it some time before you found something perfect to retaliate with.

“Can I ask y’ something?” Jamie spoke suddenly, but his voice was softer than you’d heard it on the journey so far. You turned to him and nodded encouragingly, “I was jus’ sat here wonderin’ - and please don’t take this the wrong way - but why y’ decided to come with us? I’m happy about it, ‘course I am, but-“

“I get it, Jamie,” you said quickly, because you could see how much he was struggling. It was heartwarming how earnest he was when he’d said he was happy you’d come with them though, and you were fighting an urge to lean in and kiss his cheek to stop his rambling, “I’m not exactly essential personnel for a trip to Amsterdam.”

“Fuck, that’s exactly what I was tryin’ not to sound like - wait, y’ don’t really think that do ya?”

“Jamie, seriously, stop worrying! It’s sweet but so unnecessary. Hannah, you know the one that usually handles socials? She couldn’t make it so Rebecca asked if I’d fill in. I’m not one to turn down a free trip with some of my favourite people.”

His smile was genuine until the last sentence, where it morphed into something cocky as he puffed his chest.

“You wanna name any of those favourite people of yours?”

You bit the inside of your cheek as you pretended to think about it. God, it felt like it would be so easy to admit that you’d jumped at the chance to come because you jumped at any chance to spend time with Jamie these days, but you couldn’t. There were hours of this bus ride left to sit in awkward silence if he didn’t take it well.

“Well, Ted’s gotta be right up there,” you began, shifting in your seat to look around the bus, “Sam, of course, and, god, Colin is a must. Rebecca, obviously-“

“No one who’s last name might happen to rhyme with a part of the body, or somethin’?”

You scrunch up your face in fake confusion. It’s easy to imagine doing this forever, just playing pretend with Jamie Tartt for the rest of time, and you’ll play along as long as he lets you.

“Ohhh you mean Jan Maas? Rhymes with ass, very clever. Didn’t know you were such a poet.”

“I dabble, me,” he deadpans, but neither of you can keep it up as you dissolve into giggles. Jamie pulls his cap further down his forehead to hide just how much he’s cracking up and you tuck your face down - no need to have the rest of the bus trying to get in on the joke. When you both calmed down, he turned, looking back up at you from under his hat, “Very quick by the way. Jan Maas, ass. You’re good, you are.”

“You’ve only just noticed?” you asked incredulously, intent on teasing him just a step further, but he takes his hat off to look at you properly when he answers, running his hand once, twice through his hair first, of course.

“Nah,” he replied, voice that soft whisper that you’d come to crave, “Y’ wanna know when I noticed?”

You swallowed thickly, leaning into him in the same way he had, all conspiratorial and close.

“I dunno. Do I wanna know?”

Jamie ignored you and continued, eyes flitting from your face to a thread on his joggers he was picking at.

“It was when I’d just come back to Richmond an’ everyone was mad at me. Rightly so, I know. But I was sat in me car, havin’ lunch cause no one would eat with me yet. You were walking past with Rebecca going to lunch and you waved at me, with this mad bright smile on your face y’know?”

“I may have a vague memory of that,” you said, as if seeing him alone in his car hadn’t broken your heart at that time.

“An’ then the day after, when you ate in your car an’ invited me to join. I knew y’ were only doin’ it for me, but I didn’t care. I jus’ remember being so grateful. So, so grateful. That’s when I knew you were…”

He trailed off, but he was stuck staring at your face. You could feel the heat sparking down the length of your spine as he seemed to search your expression for something. His own was unreadable.

“…good?”

It was like you had snapped him out of a trance and somehow you wished you hadn’t said anything.

“Good, yeah, that’s what I mean,” he murmured, then seemed to let that cocky mask fall back into place, “You wanna tell me when you realised I was good now so I don’t just sit here like a prick? Or, let me guess, you’re still waiting for it to happen?”

Despite the teasing tone, you somehow knew this wasn’t an opportunity to joke. There was a newfound vulnerability in Jamie that you were always careful not to tread on; it was such a welcome change after all.

“Nope, I know exactly when it was. I walked past the boot room one day, a couple weeks before we had that first lunch I think, and you were making sure things were tidy enough for Will to sort. There was nobody to watch you do it, either. I just knew that you were a different Jamie. That you were…good.”

Good didn’t cut it at all. You’d sworn then and there that you were going to help him find his way at Richmond whatever it took, and eating lunch in your car just so that he could join you a few weeks later felt like a good start. It had been. As Jamie worked to gain the love of his teammates, he had you as a constant sounding board, willing lunch partner and occasional movie night holder. He wasn’t invited over often, not wanting to seem too eager, but he’d never turned you down.

Yes, that was the moment you’d realised he’d changed, but there had been a million moments since that had turned him into the first person that came to mind when he’d asked you for your favourite person on the bus.

Now he wasn’t meeting your eyes at all, fully trained on that thread he’d been picking at. You sighed and flicked his hand to stop him ruining his favourite pair, and he finally looked up at you, wide puppy eyes that always made you melt when they showed up.

“You really mean that?”

Rather than replying, you hold out your pinky to him and watch his smile grow as he twists his own around yours. You let it linger then lean in to kiss your own hand and gesture for him to do the same. He does it so tenderly you think you’re getting lightheaded.

“Every word,” you assure him, settling back into your seat and untangling your hands from each other, “Now that I’ve been so nice to you, think I can cash in that shoulder offer from earlier?”

It was easier to revert to the easy banter than continue down this sincere path. And even though it was only just beginning to get dark, you couldn’t look at him any longer. Maybe if you were resting on his shoulder, you could grin for a bit without him wondering what was wrong with you.

He patted his shoulder invitingly and you snuggled down into it, until your cheek was smushed into his jacket and you could smell the cologne radiating from him. You threaded an arm into the crook of his elbow without thinking, just because it was more comfortable, but when you moved to take it away, he rested his hand on yours to keep you there. That same hand then came up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, staying to cradle your head for a moment.

You held your breath.

He quickly thought better of leaving his hand there, squeezing your head for just a moment before dropping his arm back to his side.

It took a while to breathe naturally again, especially knowing he’d feel every painstaking inhale and exhale against him, and it took even longer for your eyes to close and to finally drift off.

---

When you woke up again, you had to squint as your eyes adjusted to the almost total darkness of the coach. It had to have been a couple of hours. You wiped your mouth to ensure you hadn’t drooled on your very kind seat partner then risked a glance up at him without moving your head too much.

He looked asleep. His chin was tucked against the crown of your head, and his whole body was turned into yours in a way it hadn’t been when you’d fallen asleep. There was nothing that would make you want to move and disturb the moment, except for the unfortunate cramp in your neck you were simply going to have to stretch out.

You tried to gently ease your head out from under his but his eyes fluttered open immediately as he looked at you in concern.

“Y’alright love?”

 That voice. Huskier and broader than ever in its newly woken state. You smiled up at him and whispered back, noticing that the rest of the bus were either asleep or resting as you stretched your neck.

“Didn’t mean to wake you, sorry. You can have my shoulder now if you like, ‘s only fair.”

“Nah you’re alright. If you’re awake, I’m awake. What kind of seatmate would I be if I left you on your own, hm?”

“A normal one?” you offered, but he shook his head, holding a hand to his heart as if wounded.

“I will not have myself being described as anythin' but fuckin' extraordinary, please,” he insisted quietly, making you chuckle, “Did ya sleep well?”

“Very. Whoever told you that you have a comfy shoulder was annoyingly right.”

There was a note of jealousy in your tone that you didn’t expect to be there when you started talking. If Jamie noticed it, he didn’t say anything, even though you could have sworn you saw a smirk pass across his features.

“Well, I’ll let Colin know you agree with him,” he said matter-of-factly, and you wondered if he was telling you it was Colin on purpose. It was so difficult to second guess your every interaction with him, feelings getting stronger every minute you spent with him. Really, you were tired of it and tired in general and it was enough. Your usual caution had been left behind. You opened your mouth to speak, to maybe finally confess, but he was talking before you could begin.

“Actually, can I tell ya a secret?”

It took you a moment to recover from what you had been about to say and respond to him. 

“Uh…yeah, of course. Anything, you know that.”

“I do, yeah. Yeah, that’s part of it actually,” he was so in his head, but he was looking at you like he had earlier, searching for something. Nowadays, he looked so soft all the time, but there was a selfish part of you that hoped maybe he was especially soft with you, “It’s about what we said earlier. I lied to ya, and I’ve been fuckin’ kickin’ meself for it ever since.”

“You lied?”

“Yeah. I said the day we had lunch in your car was when I realised you were good. That’s not true,” he admitted, as if he was saying something shameful, “I already knew you were good, way before I was done bein’ a full-time prick. Anyone could tell you were good.”

Your heart was hammering away in your chest, in your throat, in your ears.

“That day in the car park was actually when I realised you were just…fuckin’ incredible. Like, the most beautiful person I know. Not just fit, I knew you were fuckin’ fit, I’ve got eyes, but like- y’ were just somethin’ else. You are somethin’ else. Special, like.”

You felt frozen in your seat. It was hard to tell with how 'Jamie' the whole speech had been, but you were pretty sure there was a confession in there. It didn’t sound like something he’d say to any of his mates. Still, you had to be sure.

“Sorry, Jamie, I might be being thick here but are you saying you’re like…into me? Like, romantically?”

You cringed instantly at your choice of words but he didn’t falter. This time, when he laid his hand over yours, he kept it there, stroking a steady rhythm into the back of your hand.

“I’m saying I’m into you in like…all the ways y’ can be into someone. I’m fuckin’ mad about you, Y/N. The only one who doesn’t see it is you, but you fell asleep on me shoulder and I was in fuckin’ heaven so I’m telling ya. Look, I’m not expectin’ anything-“

“Well, you should. Expect things, I mean,” you cut him off, because you can’t go another second without reciprocating, “I thought you saved me a seat to talk about your conditioner campaign.”

He scoffed loudly then glanced around to check he hadn’t woken anyone as he lowered his voice again.

“I couldn’t give a shit about all that,” he said as firmly as he could whisper, “I give a shit about you. A lot of shits.”

You let out a breathy chuckle as you reply.

“God, I give so many shits about you, Jamie. Too many shits. Have done for fucking forever, I was just about to tell you.”

“What, before I did?” he said, making a face, “As if I’d let you steal my thunder.”

You take an opportunity and a boldness you can’t help but seize as you take his face in both hands and pull it towards yours until you’re both a breath apart. He closes his eyes and pushes towards you but you keep him just a moment away, stroking a trail along one of his eyelids.

“Well I think you’re fucking incredible too. Prick,” you mumble, without any venom. It sounds like the most loving pet name in the world, the way you utter it for his ears only.

“Yours,” he counters quietly, winding his arms around your waist until he can pull you fully onto his lap and you have to bite back a squeal. You both glance around for onlookers and find none, “Think the coast is clear, babe?”

“Crystal,” you insist, surging forward to press a searing kiss to his lips, gratified when he responds just as enthusiastically, pushing back into you, both hands clutching at you like you were about to disappear any moment.

There were still plenty of hours left on the coach, however, and you were content to stay exactly where you were as long as Jamie would let you.

And there was no chance of him letting you go anywhere.

[f1daydreamers]

𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐬 [𝐓𝐀𝟔𝟔] 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟒

gif credits: @trenty

Pairing: Trent Alexander-Arnold x Fem!Reader

Summary: Arne, in hopes to focus on his team’s mental health as much as their physical, recruits a younger but just as educated psychologist to work one-to-one with the more reserved players. Trent is one of them.

A/N: I have so many ideas for this series but I can't get too carried away otherwise its gonna end up longer than a book lmaooo, also super random but this idea came to me from rewatching Trent and Robbo’s wingmen episodes and in one of them he goes, “team bonding!” verryyy heavily in his Scouse accent lol

Warnings: fluff, mentions of being overworked but nothing too harsh, general stress, this is a cute one ok ur welcome

Word Count: 2.7k words (10 mins reading avg)

...

“Why you so sour for?”

You glanced up to see your sister plopping on to the sofa, grabbing the TV remote off of the glass table situated in front of you. Her expression was curious, eyebrows raised in an exaggerated arc. You’d forgotten you’d even put a movie on.

Closing your laptop, you ran your palm over the cool steel surface.

“No reason. It’s nearly time to go to bed, what are you doing?” You watched as she navigated the TV menu, opening the ITV app and clicking on Love Island.

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t tell me you like that stuff.”

She smirked, not taking her eyes off the screen as the latest episode began to play. “No one likes it, it’s just funny as fuck.”

“Hey, why do we need to swear?”

“For expression,” she replied with a shrug, as if that was a valid reason.

“Express yourself in other ways.”

“Like what?” She challenged, finally looking at you.

You paused, a little stumped. “The world is your oyster, go and find some.”

She snorted, clearly unimpressed with your wisdom. You hoisted yourself off of the couch, tucking your laptop back into your work bag and zipping it up.

Kaia paused the show, turning so her knees were on the sofa, looking over the backrest to see you better. “Fine, but that doesn’t answer why you’re in such a mood.”

“It’s just work,” you admitted, leaning against the counter. Your eyes traced the outlines of your sister’s old drawings hung on the wall. “A lot more pressure than I’m used to.”

Her eyes lit up with youthful curiosity. “How’s the job going? Met any really fit guys yet?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Is that all you care about?”

“It’s important! C’mon, spill,” she insisted, leaning forward.

You sighed, but a small smile tugged at your lips. “The job is good. Stressful, but good. As for fit guys.. there's.. I don’t know, a few? I’m there to work, not flirt.”

“Sure, sure,” she teased.

You chuckled, tossing a freshly washed blanket you’d just pulled out of the dryer at her. “Oo, thanks,” she said, catching it with a grin.

You rolled your eyes as she sprawled out on the couch, the music of the show coming to life once again.

You pulled the rest of the sheets from the dryer, shoving them into the laundry basket to fold in the morning. As you wiped down the counters and finished the dishes in the sink, your mind wandered again.

Arne, Lee, and the club had all been incredibly supportive since your arrival, but the internal pressure you’d carried from university - to be the best, to never fail - was fading. Wataru, Conor, and Curtis were all doing great.

From your reports, you were instructed to make Trent the priority, at least to gather enough information for a new evaluation.

But how could you do that with a player who seemingly wanted nothing to do with you?

“Y/N?” Your sister’s soft voice calling your name pulled you out of your trance.

“Yeah?” You replied, turning to face the back of the couch.

The show paused again. A beat of silence hung in the air.

“No one’s giving you a hard time, are they?” She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you frowned, “of course not. Why would you think that?”

“We’re pretty notorious for being hated.” Sadness poked through the tone in her voice.

“Nobody hates us, Kaia. And no one is giving me a hard time at work, I promise.” You tried to sound reassuring. She was a kid and she meant well, of course she did, but she didn’t need to know the full truth. She was your sister, not a therapist.

“Okay. Cause you do know I’ll fuck ‘em up, right?”

You scoffed, shaking your head in amusement. She picked her head up to let you sit then rested it in your lap. You pulled her hairs away from her face, combing them back with your fingers.

“With your swears?” You teased.

“I got a mean punch."

“Which I hope isn’t being put to use, thank you very much.”

“I’m an angel, really.” Which she tried to pull off in an innocent way that really didn’t suit her.

“Mhm,” you hummed, sceptical but smiling.

She chuckled, turning her head to face the TV again.

“Come on, let’s watch this shit show.” You said playfully.

“I thought you said no swearing.” She retorted matter-of-factly.

“That rule doesn't apply to 25 and above people.”

“Let me guess, when you turn 26, that rule’s gonna be extended by a year?” Kaia asked, her lips curling upwards.

“Precisely.” You smiled down at her as she rolled her eyes, playing the show.

Your smile faltered almost immediately. You subconsciously continued smoothing over Kaia’s hair, but your mind was plagued with thoughts about work, and as much as you didn’t want to admit it, about him.

...

The first two matches of Liverpool’s season had come and gone in a flash. But, despite in how much of a blur it passed, the level of work every day only surmounted the work of the days before.

But you could take it. If you couldn’t handle psychology, you’d probably be useless at everything else.

The new week began, and the first thing you spotted in the mountain of emails was an update. Your cabinet for the office had arrived, courtesy of the club, who were happy to cover the costs once you'd submitted your request.

You swivelled your chair to face the desk phone, dialling reception downstairs. The phone rang twice before Annika's cheerful voice answered.

"Hello," she said brightly.

"Hey, it's Y/N from upstairs. I got an email saying my cabinet had arrived. Am I okay to collect it now?" You asked, glancing around your office and imagining where the new cabinet would go.

"Oh, don't worry," Annika replied with a smile in her voice. "We'll send someone up to drop it off for you."

"Really? It's honestly no bother," you said, feeling a bit guilty about causing extra work.

"No, I insist. They’ll be up shortly," she reassured you.

"Thank you, I appreciate that," you said, a note of relief in your voice.

"No worries!" Annika chirped.

You hung up the phone, feeling a bit lighter. Come to think of it, you really didn’t fancy carrying a ton of weight up the stairs and potentially embarrassing yourself to any bystanders.

Once you’d gone through your emails, creating your to-do list for the day, you patiently waited for your cabinet to come.

But it didn’t.

You tried to put it to the back of your mind, focusing on ticking off the first two items on your list before your first session. Yet, even as you checked them off, you found yourself glancing at the door, expecting the cabinet to arrive at any moment.

An hour passed, then another, and still no sign of the delivery. The anticipation was starting to wear on you.

You glanced at the clock situated on your desk, wondering if you’d be able to make it back in time for your session with Conor.

But just as you were ready to leave, there was a knock on your door. You walked over to open it, expecting only the Irishman. There he was, but also holding a large brown box with an outline of your cabinet on the front.

“Uh-” You couldn’t register what was happening.

“Mind if we come in? Don't fancy holding this all day.”

We.

You realised you hadn’t responded as Trent lifted his head to stare at you.

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry.” You opened the door, standing off to the side. You allowed them to come in and they placed the box upright against the wall.

"Annika mentioned she'd send someone up, I didn't think she meant the players." Conor chuckled, motioning to his trusted helper.

"Yeah, well, Brian was going to bring it up but he got busy so reception asked if we could help. We were coming up anyways," he explained.

“Oh. Thank you, I really appreciate it,” you said, your voice carrying a hint of genuine gratitude. You glanced at Trent, and a heavy silence ensued.

“Yeah, whatever,” Trent muttered, his tone dripping with indifference, leaving almost immediately. You let out a quiet sigh, your shoulders slumping ever so slightly.

Conor, who had been observing the exchange with a wry smile, exhaled through his nose in mild amusement.

“He’s warming up to you,” he retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. You rolled your eyes, trying to hide a smirk.

“Aw, you really think so?”

“Sure,” he replied with a grin.

“Sit down,” you said, gesturing to the chairs. You both laughed softly as you walked over to shut the door.

Yet, an unsettling frustration gnawed at you from within. Trent had always been distant, but after weeks of being here, he still showed no signs of letting his guard down. You were no stranger to the challenges of being a psychologist, it's not like this was your first job.

But in the past few days, self-doubt had crept in. You wondered if you were even fit for it; maybe the pressures of working for one of the most prestigious football clubs in the country were finally catching up to you and kicking you in the ass.

You shook your head, feigning a smile as you returned to your desk, starting your session.

...

“Is this upside down?” You muttered to yourself, flipping the instructions around again.

What use were instructions if they had no text under them?

You debated calling your dad, but the lecture you’d receive about the hours of manual labour he used to put you through every time a new piece of furniture arrived at the house was not worth it.

“Okay. Wood, screws, knob, cabinet. Perfect.” It was only a small one, so you weren’t worried about the height of it per se, just worried about everything else.

You slumped onto the floor, surrounded by longer and shorter pieces of wood with a bag of screws and one handy screwdriver that you were currently twirling between your fingers.

Just as you were about to try again, a voice broke through your concentration.

“What are you doing?”

You gasped, your hand instinctively going to your chest as the paper floated to the ground.

“Oh my God,” you exclaimed, breathless and startled. “Can you knock next time?”

“I did knock,” Trent replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Did you?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to recall when you heard a knock reverberate through your office.

“No.” He admitted.

You huffed, feeling a mix of annoyance and embarrassment at falling for his joke.

“Funny.” You mumbled, shaking your head.

To your surprise, he plopped onto the sofa situated by the side of the wall, near the door. Your eyebrows raised slightly.

Trent, sitting on your sofa, in your office, willingly? This was new. Only today, you were doubting yourself if you’d ever be able to get through to him and yet here he was.

You didn’t want to overanalyse the situation but it was hard to ignore the significance of it. Maybe he was finally starting to let his guard down, even if just a little.

There was a strange combination of nervousness and relief running riot inside of you.

Rather than drawing attention to it, you chose to stay focused on the task at hand, wary of saying anything that might reinforce his emotional walls.

“I’m trying to build a cabinet, if you must know.” You didn’t want to sound as annoyed as you were - not necessarily by the man you were conversing with, but more so by the wooden contraption that was puzzling you to your core.

He peered over the armrest, then slowly returned to his original position. “Making a lot of progress, it seems.”

“How nice of you to state the obvious,” you replied calmly, but your mind was racing.

“It’s late, how come you’re still here?” You asked, trying to make conversation. He just shrugged, pulling out his phone from his trouser pocket.

You gave a half-smile. Even if he wasn’t in the mood for conversation, he was still here, and that’s what mattered to you.

Ten, fifteen, twenty minutes passed by, and you were officially ready to give up. Resting your head against your desk, still seated on the floor, you were on the verge of admitting defeat and calling your dad.

Your attention was diverted by a soft creak from the sofa frame. Trent stood up, and you looked up at him, squinting as the ceiling light shone brightly.

“You heading out?” You asked, your voice tinged with resignation.

He took a small step to the right, blocking the light from hitting your eyes. He glanced around, as if debating something.

His mouth parted slightly.

“Move over.”

What?

“Huh?” you said, bewildered.

He tucked his bottom lip between his teeth, motioning to the pile of wood still stacked in various directions. “Move.”

“Why?”

“Why do you think?” He replied blandly, yet still entertaining your conversation. A few weeks ago, he would’ve murdered you.

You glanced down at your cabinet, which was rather resembling modern art, then back up at him.

“Are you suggesting women can’t build things?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

He tilted his head downward, shoving his phone back into his pocket. “Women can. It’s just you that can’t. Wanna disagree?”

Your pressed your bottom lip up to your top, as if you were actually considering the idea. “I’d love to argue, but you’re lucky I’m too tired right now. Maybe come back tomorrow and we can pick up where we left off.”

“Move over or I’m leaving,” he said, a touch more firmly.

“Okay, okay. Sorry.” You chuckled.

You scooted over, making room for Trent to sit beside you. He settled on the floor, crossing his legs. There was a fair amount of distance between you.

You found yourself stealing glances at him as he took a look at the instructions a few times, feeling a mix of relief and gratitude for his unexpected help.

His presence was a welcome distraction.

You couldn’t deny you were entirely useless as he separated the pieces, lining them up to get a full look at everything, ensuring nothing was absent.

“Screwdriver?” He asked for quietly and you cast a quick look around, spotting it underneath a plank of wood.

“Here.” His fingers brushed yours as he took it from you, a touch that you were acutely aware of but one he didn’t seem to think twice about.

Whenever your knees brushed while adjusting the cabinet or while holding it in place, you could feel the warmth of his proximity, which only heightened your perception of him.

After some time, the cabinet stood completed. You couldn’t help but smile proudly at the result.

Trent glanced at your beaming face and quickly looked away, as if unsure how to react. The fleeting moments of physical contact had created a soft tension in the air.

You tilted your head, deciding to tease him while you still had the chance. “Does it look a bit bent or is it just me?”

He barely looked at the cabinet, already ready to fire a response back. “It’s just you.”

You scoffed, your eyes meeting as he extended the screwdriver back toward you. You swallowed as you took it, another brush of hands.

It was brief and unexpected but he too registered it this time. He briefly tensed but stood up quickly after.

You just about scrambled to your feet after him, placing your screwdriver on your desk.

Before he could leave, you called out, “thank you.”

He turned to give you a simple nod, brushing off your gratitude.

“I mean it. Not just for building this,” you gestured toward the cabinet, “but for being here. I’m always happy to see you.”

A silence befell you both, but it didn’t feel awkward or uncomfortable as it had before.

“If you don’t mind my asking, how come you came here?”

He thought about his answer for a second, wanting to correctly word it.

“Saw you struggling through the door. Thought you were finally having a heart attack or something.”

You paused for a second, slowly nodding your head. “Couldn’t miss it, huh?”

At that, Trent’s lips curved into a genuine smile as he looked away from your eyes, the first smile you’d seen from him that was actually for you.

It was a subtle, upward curl, softening his usually serious expression.

You mirrored his smile, it was hard not to. Perhaps you’d leaned forward, or your shoulders had finally relaxed, but you weren’t focused on the specifics.

“See you round, psychologist.”

You hummed, afraid that even if you opened your mouth, nothing would come out.

You watched him walk away, your eyes falling to the cabinet against the wall.

Seeing him smile, just smile at you, was a moment you wouldn’t forget so soon. It was as if a dam had burst, releasing a flood of relief and hope you’d nearly given up on.

But before you could think about it further, your phone buzzed. It was Kaia, asking when you’d be home.

You hadn’t even realised what time it was.

“Shit.”

…

Part 5

Masterlist

Comment below if you want to be part of the taglist! Once you are part of it, you'll be reminded for every part of the series until its completion!

Taglist: @trentwife @bluebreadenthusiast @julovesurmom @blubsberries @remmysthings @heyjudeb @keepitabuckxx @vivi-grace @hoddystark @hiireadstuff @trentione @missusstark @iamasimpingh0e @xxxstormyninixxx @lolawwww22 @myloveisforbellingham @purpleniight @bffrwme

[oreolemur]

Streamer's Worst Nightmare

Working as a streamer, you never showed your face. It was easy to make money having a cute virtual character impersonate you, but after losing a couple of fans, money became tight. “Guess what guys?”, you asked your audience through the stream. “I’m starting an Onlyfans!”. In the chat section you had a mixture of comments complimenting and some shaming you. “I know this may be a bad idea…but at least I’ll let you guys see my face”. Looking at the chat you began to get more supportive replies. “It’ll only be for a short time until I work something out for extra cash. I hope you all subscribe and see more of my personal interests”. Waving goodbye to your fans, you immediately shut off your webcam. “I can’t believe I’m doing this”, you sighed. 

Meanwhile, there was one fan of yours who wasn’t too happy about your decision. “An Onlyfans, huh?”, the man titled his head. “I’m not too happy to hear about that y/n”. He sat in front of his computer, lurking through your socials as he scarfed down a bunch of sweets. “I should pay a visit to her soon”. Crouching at his desk, L took drastic measures to find your location. “I will have you sooner or later, my sweet doll”.

Over the next few days, you began to feel more and more comfortable with your new line of work. “I’m making more than what I do streaming”, you beamed, staring at your financial statistics. “Maybe I should keep this up. Just for a little”. Posting pic after pic and video after video, you decided to open up your messages to give your subscribers a paid one on one chat with you. “Cum to my dm’s and have a little fun with me in private, my loves”, you say, making a vid of yourself in a pink robe. “I’ll be waiting”. 

After making your final post for the day, you spent the entire night trying to reply back to the hundreds of customers who hit your dm’s. “I didn’t know I’d get this much”. Without opening the last few that came in, you got bored. “Nothing new?”, you scoffed. “It’s all the same suggestions”. Before closing your laptop, you received another message. “This one better be good”. Opening it, your eyes widened. “Hello”, it read. “At least this one has a normal greeting”, you smiled.

Messaging the person back, you enjoyed talking to them. “Wow, it’s been 30 minutes and they haven’t asked for anything special yet”. Texting them back, you asked them this. “Are you not interested in seeing anything special tonight?”. Waiting for their reply, you suddenly hear a noise in your living room. “That must be the cat again”, you sighed. Getting up from your bed, you headed that way. “Come here baby”, you signaled your pet. Picking up the furry animal, you walked back towards your room. Seeing the notification come through, you gently put down your cat. As you read the reply, your heart skipped a beat. “W-what?”. Reading the message again, you wanted to make sure that your eyes were working correctly. “Something special? Like your cute fuzzy slippers in the front doorway”, the message read. “This can’t be happening”, you begin to panic. Texting the person back, “What fuzzy slippers? I don’t have any”.  Biting his nails, L stood in front of your bedroom door, “These ones”, he said. 

Feeling a chill go down your spine, your heart beats fast as you froze. “You do have quite an interesting taste in style, doll”. Seeing the man from the corner of your eye, you turned around slowly. “H-How did you get in?”, you asked. He approached you slowly, bending down to your level as you sat on the bed. “Don’t worry about that”, he said. L’s big eyes stared at you, taking note of all of your beautiful facial features. “You know…”, he paused. “You’re more pretty in person…and short too”. He then tried to reach for your face, but you smacked his hand away. “D-don’t touch me”, you said, scooting back. L grabbed your leg, pulling you back towards him. “I’m stronger than I look. I would hate it if you made me get physical with you, my love”, he said. 

“What do you want?”, you asked. “You”, L replied. "M-me? Why me?", you questioned. "If you're some creepy fan that has a crush on me...I won't date you". L tilts his head. "Why you? You're interesting. You interest me in ways no other human has. I want to peel you open. Analyze every inch of your brain until I know everything about you”, he chuckles. Hearing him say that creeped you out even more. L leans forward with each word. As he does so, his long black hair falls around his face, shrouding his eyes from view. "I want to get inside you”. L leans forward even more, until his face is mere inches from yours. His hair, now a tangled mess, conceals his face, but you can see the glint of curiosity and hunger in his eyes. "I want... to devour you." L whispers, his voice dripping with desire.

He tried to grab you, but you dodged it. You fell on the floor, getting up quickly to run away. The man smirked. He liked to watch people try and escape him. He always caught his prey in the end. L follows you, moving surprisingly quickly for somebody as lanky as him. "Where are you going, dear? The game was just getting interesting”. You ran into the living room, tripping over your cat's litter box. "Shit!", you yelled. You got up, heading towards the front door. L chuckled again. He really liked how you were trying to escape. It was so amusing and cute to watch you try and get away from him. L continued his pursuit, closing the ever-shrinking distance between you. "Don't you know that running away only makes me want you more, my dear? The more you resist, the more I crave to devour you”. 

You tried to open the door but it wouldn't budge. L was suddenly directly behind you, his lips next to your ear. "It doesn't matter. There is no escaping me at this point, darling. I'm faster. I'm stronger. I'm smarter. You will be mine." L's words send shivers down your spine. He wrapped his arm around your neck, pulling towards you to the bedroom. "Let me go!", you shouted. "Oh, you are so adorable. Trying to act so tough even though you're shaking like a leaf in my grasp. I can feel how tense you are. You know you can't get away from me, but still, you persist. It's so cute!" L continues to drag you to the bedroom, a smug smirk on his face. 

Once inside, he throws you onto the bed as he proceeds to take off his shirt. L tosses his shirt to the side, revealing his pale, lean chest. His eyes glint wickedly as he looks down at you. "Are you feeling vulnerable, my dear?”. You begin to cry, seeing him get closer and closer to you. "Please go away!", you begged. "Oh, but my darling, we're just getting started." L climbs onto the bed, hovering over you. As he does so, his long black hair falls forward, framing his face again. "You can't run from me. You can't hide from me. I will always find you." He leans down and whispers in your ear. "You're my obsession now”. He rubbed his hands through your hair, pulling on it as he brought your face close to his.  "Shhh... let me hear those pretty cries," L says, placing his finger on your lips. "I want to savor every sound that comes out of you. You're so enticing when you're scared. It's like I'm feasting on a delicious meal”.

He kissed your lips passionately, pushing his tongue past the barrier of your lips. He explored the inside of your mouth, slightly moaning. A trail of spit connected both of your lips and he pulled away. “Now…”, he said. “I want to see more of you”. His hand opened the slit of your robe, exposing your breasts. “Perfect”, L said. He pinned your arms above your head as he moved his way down to your tits. He stuck out his tongue, licking your sensitive nipples. “S-stop”, you said, letting out a small whimper. His hand traveled down to your waist, rubbing your bare cunt. “You have such soft skin”, he said, making a pop suction noise as his mouth latched on and off your tit. Your legs shook, feeling him massage your clit. “No”, you said, closing them, trapping his hand in between your thighs. “I don’t like uncooperative people, my dear”, he said, forcing your legs open.

L’s cock hardened inside his pants, making him blush. “My god”, he said, moving his hand away from your pussy, he had your arms pinned with one hand as the other moved to unbutton his pants. “I didn’t think I would get this excited”, he said. You laid there crying, wishing this situation was over with. You saw his dick poke out of his boxers. “Stay still”, he said, unpinning you. He pulled them down just enough so he can fuck you. With your legs still spread, L positioned himself comfortably between them. He placed his cock on your cunt, spitting on it. He rubbed himself on you, attempting to lube your dry pussy. “If you scream I will hurt you”, he said, shoving cock inside you. The size caught you off guard, making you cry even louder. “Take it out!”, you yelled. He covered your mouth, leaning into your ear. “I can tell it’s your first time, my love”, he slightly smirked. “I felt your hymen break”. His thrusts were slow as he placed kisses onto your neck. His teeth sunk into your skin, leaving bruises. 

Your body started to like his touch as your cunt became used to his cock. You tried to tell yourself that you didn’t like it, but you liked how fucked up the situation was. “Your body is starting to relax. You don’t feel tense anymore”, L grunted. He let go of your mouth, kissing your soft lips. He bit your lower lip, drawing blood. “If you keep up this good behavior…I might just let you go”. His thrusts quickened as he felt your walls tighten around him. You moaned as his pace went faster, feeling your orgasm arriving. L rested his head beside yours, moaning into your ear. “After I’m done, I’ll make sure no one else sees your body but me”.

[lagataprrr]

Blame it on the Club's Playlist| Chapter 3 No Hands

S. Gojo x plus!size fem reader

Warnings: slight dry humping, heavy makeout session, Gojo being completely obsessed with reader, readers insecurities maybe getting the best of her AGAIN

Blame it on the Club's Playlist | Masterlist

Credits to @super-marvel-dc for the gojo divider!!! They have more on their profile🥹

a/n: I did not edit this so im sorry beforehand for any grammatical errors. I hope yall enjoy this one!!! I wanted to delve more into like how self conscious one can feel when it comes to intimacy and I think I did it a lot on personal experiences. I love yall and you are all so beautiful!!!!! also if you'd like to be added to the taglist please let me know <333333

Also!! Should I name readers two friends??? Give me suggestions in the comments!!

should I make an actual playlist for this series?

Enjoy reading <3

"Please do not forget that I expect your drafts of the introduction and methods section of your study, and please for the love of God. Write your own work." The professor lets out a breath. "I am so tired of having to send half of my class to the honor council because they can't write their own paper. Make smart choices." As soon as she turns around to leave, everyone starts packing their stuff.

You quickly type in your project to your reminder app on your laptop before closing it. Slinging your bag over your shoulder and stepping out of the classroom you're met with one of your friends.

"Well there's my favorite friend, ever." She says, a sly grin on her face and you furrow your eyebrows.

"What is it?"

"I was just wondering if you texted the hottie you so sneakily went and did." You shake your head with a laugh as you both walked out of the science building. The slight chilly air on campus making you cross your arms over your chest.

"No, I have not."

And somehow, because the universe felt like exposing you. Your text ringtone chimed, twice. Your friend raising an eyebrow at you, and another chime making it a third message.

"Uh huh. Has he texted you by chance?" You roll your eyes, and pull your phone out of your pocket. Hottie with the body sent 3 new messages. "That's an interesting contact name."

"It was how he saved himself." You say quickly unlocking your phone and moving it away from your friends prying eyes.

Hottie with the body

how was your statistics class?

wait are u taking that class with Professor ibrahimbegovic?

she's so mean

You are quick to type in your responses, your friend watching with a curious look.

You:

It was alright, gotta finish up my draft for my study lol

and yesss

im guessing you've taken her class

"So did he text first or did you?"

"He did, but it's just talking about classes." You say, locking your phone and glancing at her. "What's with that face?"

"He's into you, babe"

You look away and scowl. "Not this again."

"Y/N, you have got to stop thinking that no guys can show you genuine interest because of your looks." She says earnestly, linking her arms with yours. "You're gorgeous, smart, and know how to throw that ass back like a Goddess."

"Oh my god." You let out a laugh.

"It's true!" Both of you reach the cafe and the bell chimes, "Go ahead and get a table I'll order our drinks." You nod and find a table near the window. Setting down your stuff and unlocking your phone again, this time scrolling through social media. You could hear the bell of the door chime again but you payed it no mind.

Your phone chimed again and you opened the message.

Hottie with the body

you look cute

Your head immediately looks up and you're met with Satoru standing at the entrance, his dark haired friend standing next to him. He shoots you a smile and heads your way. You don't miss the way your heart skips a beat as he makes his way towards.

"Hi." You greet, feeling your nerves pick up.

"Hey, fancy seeing you here."

"Oh yeah, totally not because everyone likes to come here after being grilled by hard professors." You joke and he chuckles.

"Oi, same thing as always?" His friend asks and Satoru nods. "Oh, you must be Y/N." His friend knowing your name catches you off guard.

He's talked about you? How cute!

More like embarrassing. Your mind battles with your thought.

You nervously laugh and nod. "I am. Yeah, t-that's me."

"I'm Suguru Geto, it's nice to meet you."

"Likewise." And he nods, heading to the line to the cash register.

"So, what's your study about?" Satoru questions as he takes the seat next to you. You catch a whiff of his cologne and fuck did he smell good. Your eyes went from his face and down to the rest of him, the black compression shirt he was wearing accentuated his form, and holy shit, were those abs?

He's way out of your league.

"Uh... well it's about the desensitization in peoples reactions to certain news headlines." Your eyes were still on him, going down to the grey sweatpants he wore, until you finally looked back up to his eyes. A smirk on his lips, clearly amused at your unashamed gaze.

"That's actually really interesting. For our class we had to do it about students anxiety levels between online and in person classes." You nod as he continued to explain, your eyes on his lips now.

Snap out of it you idiot, he's talking to you. Your mind practically yelled at you.

"Okay! One medium Y/F/D and a cheese danish." Your friend says, setting down your drink and treat as she takes the seat across from you. "Oh! Hello! You must be Satoru." She greets and you widened your eyes at her.

Satoru glances at you with his smirk again before nodding at her, introducing himself and making small talk.

Please swallow me Mother Earth.

"Oh! Y/N did you invite him to go out with us tomorrow?"

You tilted your head in confusion at this. "Tomorrow?" You did not have any plans tomorrow.

"Yeah, remember, we're supposed to go to the club again tomorrow." She says with a sly smirk. "We're trying to get this one to go out at least every Friday! She's a scholar but she needs to make memories."

"Sounds fun, you going?"

"No."

"Yes." Your friend and you say at the same time. You glare at her and she wiggles her eyebrows. "She is."

Satoru nods, but his eyes were on you the entire time. "I can meet you there, if you want." He's almost begging with the tone he used, his eyes on yours before glancing down at your lips, as you gnawed on that delicious lip he was literally aching to kiss again.

You felt heat creep up your neck, unsure. "She'd love it, in fact. Y/N since I'm picking up Y/F/N, you can ride with Gojo and meet us there!" She suggests, and Satoru nods in agreement.

Gojo? Who the hell is Gojo?

"I don't mind picking you up, if you're okay with it."

Gojo is his last name. Keep up.

"Sure." You respond almost unsure at your own response.

"Great. Then we'll see you tomorrow!"

And that is how you currently find yourself running around your apartment trying to make sure everything was perfect. You weren't expecting Satoru to come inside, but if it does happen, then at least everything would at least be decent. This time you were wearing a black romper dress, with matching black heels.

As you went back and forth in your apartment, your cat followed you, curious as to what could you possibly be doing. In the middle of your stress your phone chimed, and you let out a groan. Going to your room to grab it from the nightstand.

Satoru :):

I'm here.

but take your time, no rush at all

I know you're getting all prettied up

You felt heat creeping on your cheeks as you shake your head.

You:

I'm done, let me grab my ID and I'll come down

Satoru :):

sounds good, pretty

also

still can't believe you changed my contact name :(((((

You:

im sorryyyy

it was distracting

You made sure to lock your door and headed down, stepping onto the sidewalk looking for his blue BMW until you furrowed your brows. Looking down at your phone and starting to text him to ask if he was sure he put down the right address, until you heard a wolf whistle. Looking up to see a black Mercedes G-Wagon, the one that came out this year, at that. Satoru gets out of the car and gives you a boyish grin.

"Never fail to leave me breathless, pretty." You give him a wide smile, thanking him as your eyes raked over him. The white crewneck and black jeans doing wonders for him, along with his baby blue nike dunks. A pair of glasses sat on his nose and holy shit, did he smell good.

"You look good too." You reply, and he grins. Opening the passenger door for you and holding out his hand. You thank him as you take it and get in the car, unbeknownst to you Satoru glanced the light blue color that flashed from under your dress and he felt heat all over his neck. Closing the door and jogging back to the drivers side, he starts heading out in the direction of the club.

Your eyes glanced around the interior of the car, the smell of expensive leather making you wonder just how much does this cost. "How many cars do you own?" You ask absentmindedly, and then you slap a hand to your mouth. "Sorry, didn't mean it like that."

Satoru laughs, "It's okay. I don't mind." Giving you a reassuring smile. "I have two of them here, my other cars are in my house in Shibuya."

"Other cars?" You ask incredulously. "We are in different tax brackets I see." You joke and he lets out a laugh, a smile on your face at the sound.

You both continue talking throughout the ride until you reach the club valet, only to furrow your brows as it seems the security guards were waving people off. Satoru was quick to roll down your window.

"Oh, Mr. Gojo, unfortunately sir we have a couple of pipes that burst in the restrooms so we're closed until they get fixed."

"Okay, thanks man."

"Mr. Gojo?" You tease as he rolls up your window.

"He's just being nice."

"Mhmm." You say as you text your friends group chat.

The Three Muske(hoes)teers

You:

club is closed

Musketeer #1:

what??

so I got ready for NOTHING?

Musketeer #2:

bruh

im not even ready yet

but damn

Musketeer #1:

this was a sign for me to work on my backup assignments

Musketeer #2:

^same

we can go out next Friday

Musketeer #1:

Are u still with Gojo?

"Do you want to go eat something?" You glance up to see Satoru already looking through his phone.

"Are you hungry?"

He tilts his head at you with a smile. "I asked first."

"I am, are you?"

"I am." He nods and quickly puts in an address not the screen of the car. "I'll take you to this place that's nearby."

You nod and go back to your phone.

Musketeer #2:

she def is

she's probably not answering bc she's busy

sucking dick

Musketeer #1:

throat goat fr

Musketeer #2:

Hawk TUah

You:

ENOUGH

You lock your phone and glance out the window, heat on your cheeks and Satoru raises a brow at this. Though it's soon forgotten when you see the expensive restaurant that he's pulling into.

"Tapas Molecular Bar? Satoru..." You say as he puts the car in park. "This is expensive."

"I know." He says as he kills the engine, getting out of the car and heading to your side. Opening the door for you only for you to stay seated. His eyes meet yours and he gives you a smile. "I'm inviting."

"No, that's too much. I mean we barely know each other, and I don't want you to think I'm taking advantage of this-"

"Y/N, I don't think that of you. I just want to spoil you with some good food. I would've preferred this to be a date, but, I don't think you want that. So I'm inviting you to eat."

You gulp nervously at his confession and maybe just maybe... "Do you want it to be a date?"

"I'd love it if it was. But I respect your wishes."

Carefully stepping out of the car and watching him close the door, you let out a shaky breath. "Okay... it's a friends date then. As friends!" You clarify and It was like an instant light switch, the way Satoru beamed at this. A wide smile showing his perfect pearly white teeth, eyes crinkling because of how wide he was smiling. "But! Just this one time... okay?"

"Great! Now stop over thinking, this is a friends date and I'm treating you to the best food." You laugh as he practically bounces as he walks, and you link your arm around his. Just to make sure he doesn't actually float away with the way he was acting.

The double doors were opened and the restaurant could not look any fancier, it made you feel so out of place.

Satoru was quick to let the host know he needs a table for two, and you were both escorted to a windows seat on the second level. With a beautiful look out to the city, making you grin. Opening the camera app and quickly snapping a picture of the view and sending it to your friends.

Satoru was so ecstatic as he pulled out the chair for you and pushed you in, rambling on and on about how you'll love the food.

You felt nervous, your hands felt sweaty and could almost feel your entire body jitter. You cleared your throat a couple of times, trying to calm down.

"Good evening, what can I get for you tonight?" The server sent you a polite smile, before her eyes landed on Satoru. Interest shining in her eyes as her whole demeanor changed into that as someone interested.

"I'd like a coke." Satoru answers as his eyes skim the menu.

"I'll just have a water."

"Great, I'll be right back with your water." The servers eyes never once lifted off the white haired man sitting in front of you.

As soon as your gaze landed on the prices of the menu you felt like throwing up on the spot.

All those zeroes are supposed to be there?! You mentally screamed.

"Stop thinking so hard on the price, and find something you want to eat." Satoru says, a soft smile on his lips as his eyes meet your own.

It gave you the chance to really study his eyes, the striking blue that genuinely exuded the gentle calmness of a lake. The rest of his features complemented him so well, from his pretty pink lips to the sharp jawline. His hair that stuck out makes him look so handsome, it made butterflies erupt in your stomach.

"It's thirteen courses?"

"Yup, and they're all so good."

"I think I read this menu and gained at least ten pounds." You joke, but Satoru didn't laugh.

"That's not true." He pouts, and tilts his head at you. "You seem to make a lot of comments about yourself negatively."

"It's a coping mechanism."

That's what you've told yourself your whole life.

"Stop that." You furrow your brows. "You're beautiful, no need for all of that."

As you were about to respond a glass of water was placed in front of you. Satoru sent you a wink and turned to the server, "We'll have the set menu with the five premium wine flight."

You read the menu to see what he was ordering and you choke on your spit. "Satoru-" He's ripping the menu from your hands and handing it to the server, shooing her away.

"Get ready to try the best food ever."

♡

Three and a half hours later you're sat in Satoru's car in a fit of giggles at one of his antics. The wine in your system making you feel more comfortable in your skin, as he drove you home.

"So, this friend date, how would you rate it?"

You thought for a second, raising a brow. "I'd say a 9/10."

Satoru dramatically gasps, as he parks in front of your apartment complex. "What took away that one point?"

"That's for me to know." You teased, unbuckling your seatbelt. You glanced at the apartment complex and back at Satoru. Chewing on your lower lip, and inhaling softly. "Thank you for tonight, Satoru. I had a lot of fun."

"So I take it, you enjoyed the friends date?"

You nodded with a smile, opening the car door and stepping out. "Do you..." You trailed off, a nervous tingle running up your spine as you glance back at the entrance of the complex to avoid his eyes. And that ridiculous boyish grin. "Maybe want to come in?"

He has a little pep in his step as he follows you up the complex and to your apartment. Praying to God that you left it as decent as possible. As soon as your front door opens your met with your cats excited meows as a greeting.

"Oh, who's this?" Satoru asks, bednign down to run his fingers over his soft fur.

"This is Luxio."

"Luxio? Like Pokemon Luxio?" He asks as he glanced up at you with a raised brow in curiosity. Your entire face heats up in embarrassment as you cringe, but nod nonetheless. "That's the most perfect name for him."

Your cat meows at this, purring loudly as he leans onto Satoru's hand, almost like agreeing with his statement.

"Well, anyways, welcome to my home." Your cat glances up, sort of narrowing his eyes at you and meows. "Oh, I'm sorry, welcome to mine and Luxio's home."

"Thank you for welcoming me." Satoru responds, scratching Luxio behind his ear.

Your phone chimes and you unlock it to see the dozens of messages from your friends.

The Three Muske(hoes)teers

Musketeer #1:

Im so mad the club is closed.

I wanted to shake some ass

Musketeer #2:

they posted their playlist! ive been listening to it while doing hw

lmao

https.clubinfinity.com/playlist

Musketeer #1:

LIFESAVER

"Oh hey! One of my friends just sent me the link to the playlist they were going to play tonight in the club." You say as you head over to the small stereo set next to the tv in your living room, turning it on and connecting your phone. "Do you want to drink something?"

"What you got?" Satoru still engrossed with your cat.

"Pretty sure there's a tequila bottle under my sink."

After fighting with your bluetooth connection for around four minutes, the stereo finally pinged and the robotic voice of 'the bluetooth device has been connected' you mentally cheered. Pressing play on the song that began to blast through the speakers.

Listen to this track, bitch

"Finally!" And Satoru laughs behind you, already heading your way with two shot cups he found next to the tequila bottle. Handing you one and pouring your shot along with his.

"Pretty sure me and Suguru got drunk for the first time with this song." He says and you giggle, putting down your phone.

He clinks his glass with yours, "cheers." Both of you throwing your heads back as you swallowed the burning liquor.

Girl the way you're movin', got me in a trance  DJ turn me up, ladies, this yo' jam (come on) I'ma sip Moscato and you 'gon lose them pants

Luxio took his place in his cat tower near the window of the living room as you and Satoru poured another shot, the tequila building up on the wine both of you drank earlier and the room feeling hot.

Then I'ma throw this money while you do it with no hands (leggo) Girl, drop it to the floor I love the way yo' booty go All I wanna do is sit back and watch you move And I'll proceed to throw this cash (Flocka, Waka Flocka, Waka Flocka)

With no shame, thanks to the liquor, you kick off your heels and throw your hands over Satoru's neck, dancing as you both laugh.

All that ass in yo' jeans Can Wale beat? Can Roscoe skeet? Long hair, she don't care

His hands finding comfort on your hips again as you moved, His gaze focused on you and only you. You grin at him before turning around, pressing against him.

When she walk she get stares Brown skin or a yellow-bone DJ, this my favorite song So I'ma make it thunderstorm Bud, want it Flocka, yeah Blow it, fuck it, I don't care

Your ass grinded against him, the alcohol burning through your blood and this time Satoru wasted no time to grind against you too. His jeans felt tight on his crotch in no time, feeling his cock harden at the sensual movements of yours that were driving him insane.

I'm tryna hit the hotel with two girls that swallow me Take this dick, wanna swallow, Pink Moscato got her freaky Ayy, you got me in a trance, please take off yo' pants Pussy pop on a handstand, you got me sweatin' Please pass me a fan, damn (Flocka, Waka Flocka, Waka Flocka)

And just like the song, Satoru definitely needed a fan. His entire body was heating up, and fuck did you look so good dancing on him again. And once again did you have him reeling behind you, when you suddenly bent down, hands on your knees and the view of you back so sensual bent made him groan.

Girl the way you're movin', got me in a trance  DJ turn me up, ladies, this yo' jam (come on) I'ma sip Moscato and you 'gon lose them pants Then I'ma throw this money while you do it with no hands (leggo) Girl, drop it to the floor I love the way yo' booty go All I wanna do is sit back and watch you move (ayy, ayy) And I'll proceed to throw this cash (Wale, uh)

His grip tightened on your hips, your ass moving in circles against his hard on. And fuck, that sensual look you sent him as you looked over your shoulder made him bite his lip. You sent him a flirty wink as you leaned back up hands now over his on your hips and swiveled them, pushing them with a precise pressure over his cock.

She said, "Look ma, no hands" She said, "Look ma, no hands" And, no darling, I don't dance And I'm with Roscoe, I'm with Waka I think I deserve a chance

"You're driving me insane." Satoru says in your ear, lips grazing the tip of your ear making a shiver run down your spine. Your panties were soaked, sticking on you and you're sure your juices were only seconds away from trailing down your thighs. His lips pressed soft kisses over your earlobe, slowly training down on your jaw and reaching the corner of your mouth. "You've been driving me insane since I met you." He confesses, pressing a particular almost feather light kiss near your lips.

You turn in his arms, once again your arms around his neck. Feeling his cock press against you. "Show me." You swear it was the alcohol. There's no way you just said that to this hot man standing in front of you.

You mentally ignore the loud and mean voice in your head, yelling at you about your physique and how you shouldn't.

"You sure? I don't want to scare you away." He whispers his blue eyes making your stomach churn in nerves.

"Show me, I..." You trailed off, bracing yourself in disbelief at your words. "I trust you."

Satoru wasted no time in pressing his lips against yours, his hands coming up to cup your face tilting your head up to be able to kiss you better. You let out a soft moan into his mouth, his tongue tracing all over your tongue.

"Fuck." He moaned, pressing hard kisses on your lips, bending his knees and now moving his hands to the back of your thighs.

"Satoru- wait!" He's lifting you up in no time, making you panic and wrap your legs around him tightly. Now his hands holding you under your ass, "Satoru I'm heavy, don't please."

"Shut up and tell me where your room is, baby." His lips sucking on the spot right below your ear, making you gasp.

"F-First door to the left." His legs move automatically, almost kicking your door down and closing it behind the both of you. His sucking and nibbling on the skin of your neck as he slowly lays you down, one arm still gripping your thigh to be pressed to his side while his other arm supported him from fully laying his weight on you. Satoru pulls away to look at you, and you looked so beautiful like this. Under him, a little breathless and lips starting to swell from kissing him so fervently. He could also notice how you slowly but sure started shrinking away from his gaze, and Satoru would not allow this. Not this time.

"You're so fucking stunning." He says, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. Your hands are fisting his shirt, letting out a whine into his mouth as he slowly ground his hips against your core. Your brows pinched up at the feeling, eyes looking into Satoru as you let you a gasp of pleasure. "So fucking beautiful," He presses kisses down your jaw, reaching all the way to your collarbone, sucking a bruise into your soft skin. Satoru slowly leaned back, leaning on his legs as he looked at you with lust filled eyes. His fingers ran over the romper you're wearing and reached to the neatly tied bow on the back of your neck that held the material on you. "Can I take this off, baby?"

Your eyes shown a glint of uncertainty, and Satoru was quick to cup your face and lean his forehead on yours. "Don't-" He was quick to whisper to you. "You're so beautiful, I want this. But do you?"

You let out a shaky breath, fiddling with a button of his shirt nervously. "I want this, but I just- I'm not really umm... confident without something covering me?" The alcohol was making you spill all the details. "Maybe not tonight?" Satoru not wanting you to feel uncomfortable he nods, placing a soft kiss on your forehead and moving off of you. Seeing his fallen look on his features made you feel so guilty, and you immediately felt so uncomfortable in your own skin.

"I think you should go."

Taglist: @bankaixx @shiftinghoe @uniquecutie-puffs @thewomans-stuff @plathsotherib @lanaismotherrrrrrr @fangirllookingforlife I love yall and thank you for reading <3

[stayconnecteed]

hi bby <3 i just saw your post and im here to request something 👉👈

i wondering if you could work something with jisung and love at first sight? idk i've been watching too many romcoms lately. it's totally okay if you don't want to write it though, love you <33

🪐˓⠀˚⠀summertime longing⠀@⠀han jisung.

bridgerton au , jisung is head over heels for you ㅤ—⠀⠀at first sight. mention of little wounds ( scratches, really ) & soonie is a paid actor hehe 🫶🏼 this is not a part of my dear gentleman oneshots & it's not proofread. i hate to write on my phone but i don't have my laptop. hope you like it, mana 🤍

SEE MORE.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀2.4k words. ⠀⠀general mlist.⠀⠀join taglist.

The carriage stopped, and Jisung didn't wait for the door to open before jumping out. He was late, and although it wasn't unusual, his old friend Minho would kill him if he didn't show up on time. He didn't bother to look at his pocket watch as he walked the cobblestone path of the Lee manor's entrance, flashing an apologetic smile at the housekeeper who had watched him grow up as she opened the door for him before his fingers caressed the metal knocker. The hall was empty, the only source of noise the bustle coming from the kitchen, and Jisung knew that the guests had already been moved to the garden. Minho was going to notice his absence. Shit.

He hurried through the hallways, the rustle of the fabric of his pants ringing in his ears with each step as the only soundtrack to his march, until he reached the large glass windows of the blue room. He stood in the doorway, taking a deep breath to calm the erratic beating of his heart, flattening the lapels of his suit jacket against his chest. He wanted to think that the shaking in his hands was a creation of his creative mind, but in reality it was just a side effect of his lack of social skills. Jisung closed his eyes. He didn't know why he kept arriving late to places when it made him so uncomfortable to have to enter a room full of people totally alone.

Then he realised that on that occasion the people were in the garden, and he was the one who remained in the room, and he chuckled, shaking his head. What an idiot. He would be fine. Plus, he knew the Lees — it wasn't going to be that bad.

The first to see him as soon as he stepped out onto the terrace was Lady Lee, the Earl of Gimpo, and she quickly gestured for him to come towards her, ignoring the panicked face of the man who should have announced him when he arrived. He did not have to force the smile that curved his lips in reflection of the one that the woman in front of him had, and he responded to her effusive greeting and affectionate comments with easy laughter and lots of promises of meetings with his own mother as soon as possible.

Minho and his family had been travelling all spring, and now that the first rays of sun heralded summer in its most comforting form, they had finally returned, to enjoy the few months of heat before the new season began. And Jisung couldn't wait to hug his best friend again, even if it meant putting up with all the jokes about the experience he had gained in Europe and how little he had been missed. It was part of who Minho was, all the teasing and the sharp smirks, and the least he could do was get to his welcome back event on time, which… Well, he hadn't been able to do it.

Lady Lee's attention slid from her son's friend to the man she had been chatting with before, and Jisung offered a respectful bow, trying to finally find Minho in the crowd. Until he found his broad shoulders moving in silent laughter at his companion's words. And he saw you, the companion, giggling too, covering your mouth with an expert twist of your fan, your cheeks flushed, in front of Minho. Then you looked at him, and for a minute he forgot everything about how to breathe. 

Because looking into your eyes was like listening to a melody. He could hear the quartet that Minho's mother had chosen for the event playing from the little wooden platform by the lake, but it was a completely different tune than that. Your gaze, cheerful and serene, sang of mischievous breezes swaying the treetops at will, of dances without music barefoot on the grass and of the warm rays of the sun kissing your skin. You brought the summer with you, that summer that filled him with life and hope, and as he lost himself in your bright pupils, standing among the crowd, he wondered how his heart had been able to beat until that moment when it didn't had you to beat for.

“Hey, Ji!” Minho called his name, approaching him in a couple of steps, and wrapped his arms around him in a hug. Minho was dry in words, but his actions showed clearly enough how he truly felt about his friends.

Jisung's body reacted with the force of habit, letting himself be embraced and tightening his grip on Minho, as if he was afraid that he would get back on that ship with the desire to travel the world. He couldn't allow it, at least for a long time. Or unless they went together. And after one last squeeze he let him step away, Jisung's hand firm on Minho's back, as the Lees' only son turned to you.

“This is Lord Han, as I told you,” he explained, and you bowed before him, lowering your head with a lingering smile curving your lips. Jisung wanted to kiss that smile into his mouth, but he cleared his throat instead, trying to fill his mind with other — more appropriate — thoughts.

“Milady here wanted to visit our city,” he continued, offering his hand to you, waiting for you to rest it over his, and squeeze it with a familiarity that made Jisung’s heart sting, “so I proposed to her to travel back with us and stay for a while. She was the girl I told you about in my last letter.”

The last letter that had arrived that morning, and that he hadn't read because he was arriving late.

“Then you were absolutely right, my brother,” Jisung uttered, his words withering in his tongue as he linked the word ‘propose’ between you and Minho, “you were going to try to find beautiful views out there in the world. You truly discovered the most breathtaking one.”

Minho gave Jisung a playful punch on the shoulder, his chest filling with pride, ready to affirm any compliment his friend could mutter about you, but he stopped when he saw you addressing Jisung, your voice soft and honeyed, still hidden behind your fan. 

“My lord really praised your composer skills during our trip here,” you whispered, averting your magnetic gaze from his as if you were having trouble bearing the knowledge that Jisung was observing you, completely stunned, but also desperate to have a conversation with you. “He forgot to add how much of a gentleman you were.”

Jisung accepted your words with a light blush covering his cheeks, and he raised his hand almost instantly, narrowing his eyes and waiting, until you released your hold on Minho's hand and let yours rest on Jisung's. His breath got caught in his throat as he felt the soft fabric of your gloves on his fingers, and he wanted to imagine that the way you held your own breath was also due to the touch his lips left on the back of your hand — the greeting of any gentleman. 

And just before either of you could say a single word, you heard Lady Lee scream by the terrace, absolutely stressed, and a spark of orange fur running across the grass like a shooting star in the darkest night. Minho gasped, and Jisung knew. His cats.

You were the one who took the initiative, smashing your fan into Minho's chest and grabbing the hem of your dress in one swift move, following the mischievous creature at a fast pace, ignoring the calls of the rest of the men at the event. Jisung stared at you, starstruck, before running after you. It wasn't the first time he had dealt with Minho's cats, they knew him, for them you were a stranger. It would be his fault if the animal started to get stressed and ended up hurting you. 

The hurried race took him to the forest adjacent to the Lee property, and by the time Jisung spotted you among the foliage, he froze. Your bun had come loose, your hair loose falling over your back, and you had your dress pulled too far up your thighs, fully prepared to climb the tree where Soonie was waiting, curious about what you were doing.

Jisung couldn't think. He didn't know if you had heard him arrive, but he didn't care. He could only focus on the smooth skin he was witnessing — more than he had ever seen in his life — contrasting with the colour of your dress. You didn’t seem uncomfortable being barefoot, your low heels abandoned among the thick roots of the weeping willow, one foot resting on a gap between the folds of the robust trunk and your hands holding tightly to the lowest branches. 

It would be difficult to reach Soonie, because its branch, although low, was too thin for a human, even dangerous with the way it was located above the lake. Jisung could understand why the cat had chosen that tree. He also liked the way its leaves swayed in the wind, and it really did look like a giant feline toy, but they already had scratching toys and little houses in the manor, all handmade by Minho. The adventure had to end before something went wrong.

But before he could warn you of his presence, a leaf creaked under his boots, alerting you, scaring you, and making you lose focus on your tightrope walk along the branch below Soonie's. You lost your balance completely, and Jisung saw your hands trying to grab onto something, anything, before falling into a loud splash on the edge of the lake. Jisung would have laughed if his heart hadn't jumped in his chest, if you had been someone else, if he wasn't so deeply scared that you were seriously wounded. 

He rushed over to where you were, mumbling a string of “I'm sorry’s” as you emerged from the water, taking a breath of oxygen, holding onto the hand Jisung was offering you. Your hair formed spirals in the water, floating around you, just like your dress. Jisung felt so overstimulated that he wasn't able to process how he had just gotten his pants wet, the level of the water reaching over his waist. All he could think about was that your gloves had torn, and that he was touching your skin, the soft but bloody skin of your outstretched hands, and that you were so close that he could feel your rapid breathing on his arm. 

He cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the thoughts that were popping into his head, and pulled you lightly so you could stand up. Only instead of getting angry with him, blaming him for spying on you, your lips curved into a smile, and you let out a crystalline laugh, closing your eyes and relaxing your shoulders before him. You were the picture of happiness, cheeks still rosy and your chest rising and falling against the corset at full speed. Even he felt on edge, with adrenaline bubbling everywhere. 

“There’s no need to be sorry, lord Han” you whispered under your breath, your eyes falling over him, Soonie purring above your heads. “It was a funny accident. I shouldn't have tried to climb so high.”

You weren't apologizing for running away but for not thinking about the density of the branch, Jisung noticed, and he couldn't help but widen his smile at it. He was getting lost in your gaze again, too captured by you, and everything was going too fast. He didn't know if it was good or bad, but he didn't want it to stop. Until he realised that you were getting goosebumps, and the first shiver ran through you. He cursed himself for not having acted sooner, and helped you out of the lake with difficulty, the ground on the shore completely muddy. You were cold.

Jisung avoided looking at you as he turned slightly to take off his expensive suit jacket, ready to give it to you, but when he turned to offer it, he saw that you were removing your dress. He was quick to put his jacket on you before you could continue, shame creeping up his neck and leaving a trail of blush in its wake, and you flashed a mischievous smile, fully aware.

“I’m not going to end up naked, lord Han” you assured him, grabbing the thick fabric of your dress and leaving it on the grass, the figure of your body crafted by the thin white nightgown you wore underneath, before snuggling into Jisung's warm black blazer, “you should court me first.”

Your words snapped Jisung out of the haze he was in, suppressing the urge he had to run his hands along your arms to help you warm up, and he picked up your dress and shoes from the floor, keeping his hands well occupied. He was a gentleman, he shouldn't… He had to involve you both in situations appropriate for a young lady like you. Not in an improvised swim, where you were going to end up so... God, so delicate and delicious, looking at him that way. 

He couldn’t. Not when everyone knew where you were, when Soonie was judging you two among the roots of the trees, approaching Jisung with the confidence of having found a familiar human. Before he could get any closer, you crouched down, holding out your fingers so he could smell them. It took a suspicious look and realising that Minho's cologne was still soaked in you to accept being held in your arms, sticking to your body to provide you with more warmth. 

Jisung had to remember to buy Soonie more treats the next time he visited Minho. 

“Are you coming?” you asked, oblivious to the way the vision you were was killing Jisung inside, you in his clothes, with that cheeky smile, your hair a wet mess but still looking so beautiful.

Still, he nodded, treasuring every second in his memory. One look, and you had cast a spell on him. He would follow you wherever you asked as long as you were the one to guide him. He knew he was in love, because you held his heart in your hand as easily as you had taken Minho's cat, and if you broke it it would hurt more than a bad cut with a rusty knife. He had fallen catastrophically, and was now at your total mercy. The worst part, however, was that he didn't care at all.

© stayconnecteed 2024 ★ do not copy, translate, repost or share this work as yours on other platforms ! consider leaving a comment or reblogging.

[lucysgraybird]

Ooo maybe something with Billy x reader where he arrives at her home all beat up since he’s on the run and doesn’t wants to go anywhere else, so reader has to take care of the cuts on his face or something.

i love this so much anything billy hurt/comfort related makes me RAA!! i hope this is what you wanted. if its not literally send me another ask i will be so happy to write another version (later tho my laptop is about to die)

injured!billy x fem!reader

There is something about living in the middle of nowhere that makes you wary of knocks on your door at any time. In the middle of the night, the rapping has you grabbing your father’s shotgun off its hooks above the door and readying it as you slide the latch and swing the door open. 

Perhaps a normal person would find what was stood on your doorstep unsavoury, but it was only relief that courses through your body at the silhouette of the infamous outlaw, Billy the Kid. It had been so long since you had heard from him, and you had tried to tamp down your anxieties by assuring yourself that you would’ve heard if he had been killed. It had worked about as well as tamping gunpowder: every time news arrived from town, your heart was off like a shot, worried it would be a tale of his capture or worse. 

In the split second that you allow his presence to soothe you, he steps into one of the stripes of moonlight across your porch, and that momentary peace climbs back up your throat with bile on its tail. You barely manage to set your shotgun down properly before you’re reaching for his beaten-up face, turning it this way and that to inspect the damage.

“What happened, Billy? Who-”

One of his hands comes up and closes around your wrist: he doesn’t say anything, but it stills you long enough to see the exhaustion in his eyes, and you drop your hands. 

“Come in, then,” you sigh, and use the hold he’s got on your wrist to lead him into your house. He settles at your kitchen table while you gather your meager medical supplies – little more than strips of cloth and strong alcohol, but it’ll have to do. 

His face is bloody and bruised, and far too dirty for you to see the real injuries, so you start by taking a damp cloth to the caked-on dust. 

“You’re on the run again,” you say. It should be a question, but isn’t. 

“Trouble seems to find me,” Billy replies, voice raspy and tired. “Can’t escape it.”

“Maybe you should try a little harder.” 

You don’t mean the vitriol that curls around your words – or you don’t mean to show it to him. Your anger is yours, and ought to stay that way. It isn’t his fault that life dealt him a rotten hand of cards, even if it means you don’t see him for months at a time and that you’re always afraid that you’ve lost him and will never get the closure of public mourning. A good country girl, daughter of the general store manager and set to take it over one day, would not love an outlaw enough to grieve him. 

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. His irises are bright under the grit and grime – windows to the soul. 

“‘s not your fault,’’ you whisper. 

Tears sting the back of your throat and you swallow them, unwilling to cry in front of him while he’s hurting for real. To his credit, he doesn’t say anything, even though you know he noticed. He lets you clean the cuts on his face and hands with minimal complaint, though there’s a unique sting to an antiseptic that will have even the most hardened criminals wincing. You bandage his knuckles and try not to lose it when he lifts your fingers to his lips for a soft kiss. The kerosene lamp is burning low. 

“You’re going to have to leave again.”

The words trip out of your mouth. Once again, no matter how you wish it, this is not a question. You’ll be lucky if he’s here in the morning. As if sensing that it’s unnecessary, he gives the barest nod. 

Something bold sparks in your chest. Maybe it’s the relief of seeing him again, maybe it’s the lingering adrenaline from the knock on the door, maybe it’s the way the moonlight is the brightest thing in the room. 

Whatever it is, you say, “Take me with you.”

Before he can protest, you drop into the chair facing him and take his hands in (gentle) earnest. 

“I can’t do this again. I can’t do the not knowing, I can’t do you showing up like this every couple of months. I wouldn’t be a dead weight; I can ride and shoot and cook, and maybe one day we can go somewhere far from here and make a real life for ourselves.”

“I can’t promise–”

“Even if we can’t, Billy, I want to be with you.”

He just stares at you in a confused, sleepy silence. It’s too much for him now, battered as he is, but you don’t care. 

“You need someone to patch you up,” you plead. “I love you. Let me be there.”

A beat, and then two. You realize you haven’t thought about what you’re going to do if he says no; what will happen to your soul when you wake up alone tomorrow.

“It’ll be dangerous,” he says finally. “You’ll be an outlaw too.”

“That’s okay,” you say, even though it kind of isn’t. You’ll make it okay, though. For him.

“You shouldn’t give up everything for me, honey, I ain’t worth it.”

It breaks your heart, that he doesn’t know that he is everything, at least to you. 

“I’m not giving up anything. I’d be getting something more.”

He sighs, realizing that he’s not going to break your resolve. 

“Then we better get some rest, ‘cause we’re gonna have to leave at dawn.”

You try to hide the joy that unfurls through your arms and fingers at his capitulation. You know life will be different – that it will probably be harder – but it all pales in the light of getting to stay by his side, the closest to marriage the two of you will probably ever achieve. You can’t kiss him for fear of hurting his busted lip, but your fingertips fizz over his knee as a smile spreads across his face, and in the face of such solace and cheer, he can’t help but smile back. 

[baby-yongbok]

That new photoshoot of Minho's arms and sides showing...

Clothes? Yeeted somewhere that can't be found!

Bra? What's that!

Panties? Torn!

I want to cover him in do many bite marks! I wanna overstimulat his pretty dick to the point he cries!

I don't even know if I need him to dominate me more I want to dominate him...

Help!

Yes, yes and more Yes, Minho's God of Love Gucci shoot for W Korea has been burning a hole in my brain ever since the first pictures dropped. I've been sitting on this request but since I'm seeing some more of his W Korea content I felt inspired. ❤️

God Of Love

Genre: Smut Word Count: 616 ✨️Masterlist✨️

He was chosen to portray the God of love for a reason. Minho makes you feel outside of yourself in the most intoxicating way possible. He knew the second that you saw the photo proofs that you'd want him. Want to dominate him, submit to him, fuck him. He knew. 

As soon as you sat on his lap when he got home, the photos from the shoot still open on your laptop because you just couldn't look away, he knew he had you exactly where he hoped to get you.

 He doesn't care how expensive your panties are or that they're your favorite. They're in his hand, torn at the sides and thrown across the room in an instant. The clasps to your bra are bent and broken after he's ripped it off of you. He's feeling powerful, hungry, Godly. 

Your moans as you grind against him are driving him wild as he growls for you under his breath, he's desperate to feel you. He has to feel you, so he does. He slips right into you with his pants around his ankles. Fucking up into you as you bite at the delicate skin of his neck, leaving red and purple marks that he'll have to cover later. He comes quicker than he'd like but you are far from done. Now you're hungry, desperate, insatiable. His Goddess. 

You grind into him as he claws at your hips, both begging for more and less. It hurts so good, he feels so much yet he wants so much more. It's his turn to moan your name. It's his turn to be putty in your hands as you work your wet cunt up and down his length. Your orgasm washes over you in a burst of delicious heat but you're just getting started. 

He picks you up, carrying you to the nearest wall and pressing your back against it. Your cunt stays wrapped around him as he strips himself of his shirt and steps out of his pants leaving him in his sheer nakedness, without missing a beat he begins drilling into you. Pinning your wrists to the wall behind you and keeping you up with his strong thighs. Whimpers fall from the both of you as the overstimulation burns your nerves. You feel like you're on fire together, euphoria sparkles around you as the sound of skin slapping and desperate pornographic moans fill the air. 

“Greedy, kitty just needs my cock, huh?” He sneaks sentences in between whimpers and groans. His lips find yours in a hungry passionate kiss, the temperature rises around the two of you as you reach your second climax. You writhe and squirm against the cool wall, Minho moves his grip to your waist to keep you stable as he nears his second orgasm as well. 

“Min, oh my god.” 

“That's it baby, call out my name like that, let me hear you.”

“Min -”

“Not that one, come on kitty.”

“Fuck fuck fuck, my God you feel so good.”

Minho reaches his climax shortly after your desperate profession. Shooting into you yet again and filling you up to the brim. He can't help but to keep fucking you, too fucked out and dazed to risk leaving you empty. He wanted to feel you. Needed to. He ruts into you just as desperate as he did before, his eyebrows are furrowed and his bottom lip is pulled between his teeth as he keeps his eyes on yours, gazing into your soul and fucking you on every level that he can. His name falls from your lips like a prayer as he fills you, why would it not? He is the God of Love after all.

(Unedited)

[songmingisthighs]

Oddeleny

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

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ch. xxxv - sabbatical

ghost!yeosang × reader

genre : ghost!au

rating, warning : mature; crude jokes and filthy language

buy me coffee ?

wc : 1.1 k

a connection once had, broken with the expectation that the ending is final. but life has an odd proclivity of making attachments from detachments. in the end, we don't know what we lost until we look at what we have

For once, you were so deep into your work, pouring all of the anger and frustration towards Yeosang into something more productive. You were so into typing that you jumped when your door was slammed open and then shut in the speed of lightning. Thinking that it was Yunho or Jongho (because Hongjoong is quiet as a cat and is only loud with his voice on topics that infuriates him), you didn't even bother to look back.

"If one of you knuckleheads have something to say about my phone sabbatical you can file it into the complain box," which was really your trash can but they knew that.

It wasn't until you were ripped away from your work laptop with the swivel of your chair did you even realize that it was Leo who stood towering over you.

"What in God's name do you think you were doing?" He asked, huffy and looking pissed. Which was his usual resting bitch face plus a glare.

Pushing his hand off your chair, you shrugged at him, "I don't know what you're talking about," you said and tried to swivel back but he held on, "You know what I'm talking about," he stated. You furrowed your eyebrows at him and shook your head, "Oppa, I'm literally clueless here. Can I just go back to work?" This time, instead of answering you, Leo produced your phone out of his pocket which made your heart beat quicker in nerves and he showed you the chat with Yeosang. "Why the hell do you have a contact named Yeosang and even has his face on it?" He asked.

Now his anger made sense since he had been the one advocating for your mental wellbeing and he knew very well what Yeosang could do to you. But you still couldn't tell him what was going on so you shrugged in indiference as best as you could, feigning acknowledgement despite your pupils shaking when you caught a glimpse of the new conversation at the bottom, "I don't know." You knew it was a lame answer but it was the best in the pressing situation. Unfortunately, Leo was not satisfied with that answer.

"Are you kidding? So this is a joke?" He asked, getting huffier. You couldn't help but glared at him, "What's in it to you? It was just a stupid chat it means nothing. I was just entertaining an idea or some shit," "So this could be a catfish and rather than doing the logical thing, you decided to bet on your mental wellbeing?"

Though it not be the way he meant things to be but you didn't like the insinuation that you were an idiot especially coming from someone who knew you damn well and you let your displeased feelings shown. "Are you seriously insinuating that I'm some sort of an idiot or something? Because I was the one who lived through what I lived through and look at me, I'm just fine!"

At this point, the both of you knew that you were getting more and more frustrated at each other for no apparent reason and neither one of you were willing to back down since technically both of you had somewhat of a point. Leo realized that the things he wanted to say, though it's based on him worrying over you as a caregiver, would not be accepted well by you so he bit his words back. Literally. You could see him biting the inside of his cheek as he stared at you, contemplating on what to do. Then, he said something you didn't expect.

"You need to change your phone," he stated oh-so-simply. Incredulous, you blinked repeatedly, thinking you had heard wrong. "Excuse me?" "You need to change your phone because whatever this is, I have a feeling this had something to do with the hacker you were so worried about a while ago so I think you need to just leave this all behind and forget about it," he said, showing that he was serious. "I don't need to change my phone. If I change my phone due to EVERY single miniscule discomfort then I'd be the most wasteful person to ever exist, oppa," you said in the most annoying tone you can muster, hoping that he would get the hint and just leave you be.

"Are you kidding?" Alas, he was one adamant son of a bitch. "That's not my point, (y/n) and you know it. I just want to do what's best for you considering what happened in the past!"

This time, you couldn't hold it in. You pushed yourself off the chair, forcing Leo to take a step back and braced yourself. "Why do you have to insert yourself into my decision? I'm not the same idiotic 12 year old who thought mommy and daddy would step up for me and just stupidly agree to things without taking any consideration of anything important. I'm not stupid! In case it you didn't notice despite you always, ALWAYS, scrutinizing my movements as if i'm the village idiot, I grew up. I learned from my mistakes and I actually used my brain when I make a decision!"

It wasn't the tone nor the volume of your voice that caused Leo's face to fall. It wasn't even the fact that you were standing up to him which in all honesty, made him proud. It was the fact that you perceived what he thought was genuine worry and care as something so negative. He wasn't able to pin down if he was hurt with you or hurt with himself though. But it did made him realize that he couldn't say anything to help you, not even to change your mind, but to just be available for you. It was vague if it was long or short term but he knew that that was the line for him.

So, in surprising dejection, Leo sighed and put down your phone next to your work laptop before he paused in front of you. For a moment you thought that he had one last thing to say, something that would make him have the final word and you prepared yourself to pary whatever it is he had to say. So when he simply turned around and quietly leave, you felt your stomach drop and guilt bubbling up. Usually, if you had an argument, Leo would still have something snarky to say or at least show how displeased he was. But the silence and the lack of response made you think that you fucked up big time.

Though the guilt was nothing compared to the anger you felt towards a certain someone. Or some soul.

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