#he’s always quick to return ur eagerness

[stunie]

hmm lately just thinking about kissing/marking up umemiya's neck while straddling his lap 🥰 (btw love your writing sm <3)

AND I LOVE YOU SO MUCH (squeezing you 🫂) !!!! but okay i think i should stop fooling around with you all and finally make an adjustment to my pinned bc i was being a little silly and put my req status pretty deep into my blog >: am sorry for being unclear !! -> reqs / thirsts r closed rn HOWEVER however nonnie letttt me answer ur ask bc i will not pass up an opportunity to talk about ume <333

[sanakiras]

IN THE DARK CORNERS

PAIRING — kim mingyu x reader | choi seungcheol x reader

WORD COUNT — 2.2k

SYNOPSIS — mingyu used to be your lover. now he has to watch from the sidelines as you’ve moved on to someone else.

TAGS — once again a college au, fem!reader, jealousy, explicit sexual content, voyeurism, pretty much just porn with no plot, semi-public sex, dom!cheol, read at ur own risk !!

mingyu would overall consider himself to be a smart guy.

he never needs to put a lot of effort into his classes to pass them, he’s quick-witted and pays attention to detail. everyone around him has always praised him for his intelligence.

but right now, he feels stupid. he has for a while at this point.

his jaw is clenched as he leans against the wall with a cup of beer in hand. normally he very much enjoys the parties hosted by his friends — today is a different case.

it’s not just anything that’s making him feel this way.

at the other side of the crowded, warm room stands his former teammate choi seungcheol. he was their team captain up until last year, having to resign from the position after suffering a leg injury, and he apparently hasn’t felt the need to return to the football team yet despite his leg being all healed up.

choi seungcheol is a nice guy. he can also be real damn scary if he wants to be.

he’s about two years older than him. mingyu found he was always easy to get along with — until two days ago, when he discovered you out of all people had started dating him.

you. his ex-girlfriend. you broke up with him a while back after a fight he honestly can’t even remember the words nor the cause of. it was bullshit. something that shouldn’t have happened but did.

somehow, he’d let you slip through his fingers. like many people, he failed to realize what he had until it was gone. failed to see the signs he was supposed to see until it was too late. he feels stupid because he’s always so fucking smart — until the one time he wasn’t.

he tried to get you back. you wouldn’t let him.

now all he can do is stare at you from the other side of the room and watch you kiss a guy that isn’t him. you’re all over him, sitting on his thigh, and he’s constantly got his hands on you, arm looped around your waist, fingers rubbing your clothed skin.

wonwoo suddenly comes up to him, nudging him in the side. “are you trying to kill the guy by looking at him?”

“hm?”

“seungcheol. green with envy much?”

mingyu shrugs. “maybe.”

“well, you’d probably be smart to make it less obvious,” wonwoo remarks before leaving, “for your own sake.”

the words leave a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. he wishes he could just stop looking at the two of you, wishes he could just stop thinking about it for a damn second.

he’s certainly not a lightweight, but even he suffers the consequences of taking too much alcohol. his head feels fizzy, and he loses focus for a second, only to realize you and your boyfriend are gone from your places by the couch.

looking around frantically, he suddenly catches the glimpse of the little red dress you’re wearing at the other side of the room — you’re going upstairs with him.

and he finds himself desperately eager to follow you. that’d be so wrong though, wouldn’t it? he’s not some stalker, obviously. he just wants to check things out.

or so he convinces himself.

his brain is against it, his heart has other plans.

his legs seem to have their own will. before he can stop himself, he’s walking up the stairs, cursing to himself when the hallway is somewhat empty — until he hears the noise of something clattering onto the floor two rooms further.

taking a few steps into the direction of where the sound came from, he briefly looks behind him to check whether anyone’s there, proceeding when there isn’t.

the moment he pushes the door open just a bit further, he spies the office supplies carelessly thrown on the floor, his ears catching onto the familiar sound of your soft laughter.

he takes a step forward, detecting motion at the other side of the bookcase. he’s able to hide right behind it, watching you lie down on the wooden surface from the open cracks of the shelves.

the tight dress on your body is hiked up by your boyfriend as his hands roam all over your body, the sounds of your shared kisses making mingyu feel warm, his cheeks flushing, adrenaline rushing through his veins.

he knows how much you love a good make-out session — he also knows you like to speed things up a little when you need to be touched.

he’s frozen in his spot behind the bookcase when he hears you let out those needy whimpers that would turn any man on like crazy.

“shit—i should probably be quiet.” you giggle with your hand half over your mouth while cheol has you pinned underneath him, right on top of the desk.

“i’d love to see you try.” he mutters to you, fingers already hooking on the fabric of your matching lacy, red panties.

the worst part is that mingyu remembers that pair — one of his favorites. you look stunning in that little red set.

but your new boyfriend doesn’t appear to be paying that much attention to your lingerie. you’re both panting, all hot and heavy, clearly not in the mood to take things slow right now.

he sinks down to his knees on the floor, fingers harshly digging into your thighs as he spreads your legs to give him the access he wants, and you so eagerly let him.

“so gorgeous, baby.” cheol whispers to you before burying his lips and nose into the wetness pooling between your legs.

mingyu feels himself growing harder when he hears you cry out, your back arching off the cold desk, his teeth digging into his lower lip.

with your dress pushed up to your upper chest and your panties discarded on the floor, you gasp for air, fingers pulling on his dark strands of hair. you won’t last long if he keeps this up.

the first loud noise escapes you when he suddenly slips his finger into you. “cheol!”

the man between your legs shows his disapproval. “c’mon, baby, keep quiet for me. you want me to keep going, right?”

“yeah, yeah—” you nod almost desperately, “—‘m sorry.”

he cocks his head as if to say, that’s what i thought.

sly fucker.

he’s got you in the palm of his hand though — especially when he dives right back in, eager to see you fall apart while pumping his fingers in and out of you.

mingyu is so lost in the sight that his hand travels down to his belt buckle almost automatically. he’s so rock-hard in his pants that he could cry.

it doesn’t take cheol long to get you so worked up that you’re about to cum — which is exactly when you beg for him to fuck you instead, claiming you just need him inside you.

and your boyfriend happily obliges.

with your legs hoisted over his shoulders, he hovers above your body, watching the way you gasp and whimper when he pushes himself inside you.

“so full, cheol—” you moan once he’s nearly balls deep inside you, biting your lip to keep the noise down.

“you can take a little more though, can’t you, sweetheart?” your boyfriend asks teasingly, the subtle mocking undertone making you shiver. you love it when he’s all dominant and cocky like this, and you love to play into it.

a lazy smile appears on your face. “depends on how hard you give it to me.”

he smirks, biting his plump lip as he picks up the pace. you hold onto him, relishing in the sound of his moans by your ear.

“always so greedy,” cheol muses, eyes shining as he scans your figure, “always wanting more.” he pushes into you with the last syllable, unable to hold down a grin at how breathlessly you gasp.

oh, the guy gives it to you good. something you absolutely deserve — mingyu just wishes it was him giving it to you instead.

he hates it. he hates how pretty you look in his arms, under him. he hates how you both look so fucking perfect. he hates how dirty and perverted he feels.

he hates that the thrill of possibly getting caught makes him harder.

he watches as seungcheol takes you fast and hard, his hand pumping his own cock at the same pace. your body welcomes the muttered sentences of praise; pulling his body as close as physically possible, spreading your legs a little wider, fingers digging into his back a little deeper.

mingyu knows you love your praise just as much as a bit of force, and your boyfriend seems to know it too. he leaves red marks over your body, sucking at your skin, pulling out for a moment to shove his fingers back in instead.

you’re a whiny, moaning mess as three of his long fingers pump in and out of you. “thought i told you to keep it down.”

“fuck—just feels so good, cheol—”

“i know, pretty girl. you’re doing so good.”

god, you’re just so engulfed in your need to be filled up that you’re willing to do anything for the man currently in between your legs, and he fucking knows it.

mingyu is obsessed with the way your cunt sucks in his fingers so easily. he can literally hear how wet you are — cheol’s quick fingers are squelching into your heat, thumb circling over your clit until all you can do is make sweet sounds into his mouth.

it all gets too much, and your hand reaches down to take a hold of his wrist, but his movements don’t falter. it takes less than a minute before you cum on his fingers, desperately clinging onto him. sharp overstimulation hits your body when he pushes his cock into you again, not allowing you to come down from your high.

the feeling makes you go insane. you clench on him as a reflex, and he groans in response because you’re just so damn tight, almost suffocating him.

his big hands are grabbing your waist, basking in the feeling of your warmth wrapped around him. you notice through your bliss that he’s getting more desperate, movement more erratic, kisses sloppier, breathing heavier — how you love seeing him fall apart.

“takin’ me so well.” he smiles, biting his lip as you rake your nails over his abdomen.

“mhm. ‘s all for you, baby.”

he physically can’t not cherish the way you gaze at him so lovingly while getting your back blown out. if anything, it’s a talent. “yeah? such a good girl for me.”

you capture his lips in another kiss, one that’s a little sweeter than before. his hair is soft, the roots of his strands a bit damp from the sweat, but you don’t care.

you’re mewling in your spot on the desk, every other thought you ever had thrown out the window. all you can focus on is cheol fucking you like his life depends on it.

his chest is then pressed up against yours, his one hand on the back of your head, holding you still and close while he gives you hard and deep strokes.

“shit.” he curses, getting closer now that you’re tightening up more.

he’s reaching down to touch your clit again, rubbing the sensitive spot, causing you to buck your hips against his.

“cum with me, cheol.” you beg him, your sharp nails digging into his shoulder blades, which always works well on him — it makes him so utterly weak.

it brings mingyu just as close to his release. he’s so lost in his lust that it almost feels like you’re saying the words to him and not seungcheol, so he lets his back rest against the wall as he gets himself off at the pleasure of watching you.

“i’m so close, baby.” cheol mutters, his thick brows knitting together once he throws his head back in pleasure.

your body shakes as you come undone underneath him, your arms wrapped around his back. your boyfriend can’t hold back any longer when he feels you hit your peak — his hips stutter, eyes squeezed shut as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, muffling his moans.

your secret spectator has to cover his mouth to avoid making any noise. his balls are tightening, sweat beading at the nape of his neck right before he pathetically cums in his pants, some of his release dripping on the floor.

his own chest still heaves as his eyes find the little drops of sweat rolling down cheol’s back, his eyes moving down to the sight of your boyfriend pulling out of you, leaving a trail of his cum seeping out of your pussy.

the sight is enough to make him hard again.

you’re panting in your place on top of the desk, still coming down from your high before your boyfriend speaks up — but his words aren’t directed at you.

“did anyone ever tell you it’s rude to stare?”

mingyu’s heart drops in his chest. shit, was it that obvious? he thought he did a good job at being relatively quiet.

now he’s left with two options of what to do next. either he owns up to it or gets the fuck out of here.

and he thinks to himself, fuck it. not like the situation could get any worse anyways.

so he steps forward, into the light.

thanks for reading! let me know if u liked it x

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

[donatellawritings]

ahh hi tella!!! so happy that ur writing for obx :) i need to see how rafe would handle a latina sweeetheart 🎀 maybe she’s kie’s cousin? i just know he’d probably be such a cocky jerk ughhhhhh thx babe

omg i am blushing just thinking about this xo

you were laid on the warmed surface of your towel, leaning on your forearms as your sun kissed skin continued the drink in the intense rays, your white, cherry covered bikini clashing perfectly against your tanned complexion, you loved days at the beach, i mean, what better way to kill time, than to eat fresh fruits and listen to your favorite music, while taking in the stunning north carolina sun for all of its glory?

you continued to lay back, your sunglasses shielding your eyes as you hummed along to the amy winehouse song that flowed through your speakers. the sudden shadow that overtook your vision, now causing you to remove your sunglasses, your eyes squinted as you took in the sight of your cousin - kiara carrera.

your chest visibly rose and fell as you sighed, your squinted frown fading into a gleeful smile, “what’s up, kie?” you asked, your wispy eyelashes batting as she hastily dropped herself onto the sand beside you.

she quickly looked over her shoulder, rolling her eyes as she returned her attention back to you, her arm reaching over you stomach as she grabbed a red grape that sat in the sweaty sand-covered container that rested by your waist, “nothing, it’s just jj being — jj,” she sighed, popping the small fruit into her mouth.

you liked jj, platonically, of course.

“he seems nice,” you chirped, turning onto your stomach, the cherry decorated bikini bottoms that you wore, now wedged between the plush cheeks of your ass as it faced the warm sun.

kiara shrugs with a slight shake of her head, you could tell that she wanted to say more, but decided against it, the moment her eyes fell on your back.

your nails clashed against one another as you undid the knot that secured your bikini top, and concealed your perky breasts, eager to get as much of an even tan as possible, “why are you looking at me like that?” you questioned, reaching for a grape.

“i dunno — maybe it’s because you just undid your top?” kiara countered sarcastically.

you stuck out your tongue, placing the grape into your mouth, soft biting into the crispy fruit before resting the side of your cheek against the surface of your hand, “but, i hate tanlines,” you pouted with a laugh.

you and kiara were thick as thieves, and sure, the reasoning for why you had to live with your cousin wasn’t the most pleasant — but she loved having you around. you were raised as sisters, both of you holding the most intimate details about the other. and boy, did you both balance each other out well! you were bubbly and were quick to let anyone in, which served to be a detriment to you at times, nevertheless, you were a hopeless romantic who made it her business to find beauty in even the most mundane of things.

as you would say, you loved everything that was pretty. your blown-out hair was always shining, wispy eyelashes always curled immaculately, supple lips glazed in shimmery gloss, acrylic-enforced nails always painted in varying shades of pink or a simple french design. you loved wearing clothes that would show off your lower back and midriff - why? no rhyme or reason, you just like how it looked.

you had a heart of gold, wrapped in a bow, making it easy for those around you to be pulled into you and your dreamy ways.

it also made it just as easy for you to end up hurt and taken advantage of.

you and kiara remained engrossed in each other, laughter emitting from the both of you, “so, are you going to stay for the kegger or are we going home for dinner?” kie questioned, a smile remaining on her lips as she watched you try to tame your overwhelming fit of laughter.

you spoke with a giggle, “i don’t know, i promised tio that i’d help him with dinner, one of these days,” you whined, your innocent eyes searching kiara’s for any kind of pull towards your decision.

“okay, well we need to decide soon, before-” kiara began, her words ceasing as a large shadow suddenly towered over the two of you.

you straightened your neck, looking up through your lashes as the tall guy crouched down, your eyes following as he leveled with you. fuck, he was hot.

“shit, kie, y’didn’t tell me you had a secret hot sister,” the guy spoke, his bright blue eyes cutting into yours as swallowed thickly, your glossy lips now running dry.

you tried to remain as still as possible, your eyes widening at the realization that your bikini top was still untied.

“fuck off, rafe, she’s my cousin,” kiara scoffed with disgust.

you remained entranced by the guy, rafe, who kept his bright eyes on yours, a smirk tugging on his lips as he took a quick look over your shoulder, tilting his head at the sight of your untied top and barely-there bottoms.

“ah, cousin?” he asked mockingly, licking over his lips, “does this cousin of yours have a name?” he pushed, the glint of his chain peeking out from his crisp t-shirt now catching your eye.

you sweetly revealed your name, your oh-so slight accent spilling through as you subconsciously batted your pretty lashes up at rafe, “and you are,” you smiled, a toothy grin.

“rafe cameron,” he spoke sternly, ignoring kiara’s protests with a roll of his eyes as he leaned closer to you, until his lips reached your ear, “i’d shake your hand, but i wouldn’t want everyone at this beach to see what you got under there,” he cooed, his condescending tone like silk in your ears.

you couldn’t help but blush like a schoolgirl, much to your cousin’s dismay.

rafe decided to make push just a little bit more, “may i?” he spoke rhetorically, his large hands sliding down your shoulder blades.

“rafe, what the fu-”

you remained still, refusing to make eye contact with kiara as rafe tied the strings of your bikini top into a secure knot, “relax, kie - m’just making her decent,” he pulled away, standing firmly of his feet.

you’d be lying, if you said that you rafe’s hands against your warmed skin didn’t excite you. his touch was oddly tantalizing for you as you were forced to ignore the subtle ache that pulsed between your legs.

you pushed yourself off of your front, now standing directly across from rafe, his eyes shamelessly drinking in the sight of your chest as he was especially intrigued by the tan line that was revealed by the shifted cup of your bikini top.

“thank you, rafe” you spoke softly, holding out your hand as you took in the staggering height difference between you and the man before you, his buzz cut hair causing you to bashfully bite down into the sticky swell of your bottom lip.

rafe accepted your hand, the sound of his name rolling off of your tongue causing blood to rush to his length as he let out a dry chuckle, enclosing his fingers around your hand, watching closely as your breath slightly hitched from his subtle grip on your hand. you two remained like this for a beat as rafe sized you up — he could smell just how genuine and sweet you were, his mind carelessly wandering to how you’d look under him, taking him for all he has. you were much smaller than him, and it ticked a region in his tainted mind that suddenly ached to have you around in any way possible.

the sudden cut of a deep voice calling out didn’t even faze rafe as his lips curved into a smile, “yo! rafe, i’ve been looking everywhere for you man,” a taller blond guy appeared beside rafe.

rafe softly released your hand, before wiping the corners of his mouth with his index finger and thumb, exhaling sharply as he faced the blond, “well, top, i’ve been busy catchin’ up with good ol’ kie, and her pretty little cousin that’s she’s been hiding from us.”

the taller blond glanced at you, he was quicker to size you up, before redirecting rafe back into his original conversation. kiara softly grabbed your arm, carrying your speaker and container of grapes.

“let’s go home,” she nudged her head towards the street, completely privy to how dumbstruck rafe had made you. she could tell that you liked it and refused to ever allow rafe to get his hands on you.

at least, not when she was around.

“oh, okay,” you mumbled defeatedly, reaching down to grab your towel from the sand, quickly turning to face rafe who watched intently as you walked away.

“bye,” you mouthed with a small wave, before turning around to catch up with your feverish cousin.

rafe continued to feign interest in whatever the fuck topper was talking about, his eyes set on your body as you walked farther and father away from him. god, he loved the way your ass bounced with each step you took. in his fucked mind, he knew that kiara was right to keep you hidden, but now since you weren’t hidden, at least not from him, he knew that it would only be a matter of time before you were his, and his only.

of course, you being such a willing sweetheart made it all the more easier for him.

[agendabymooner]

SOMETHING FULFILLED !!! MARK W. X FEM!READER X FERNANDO A. (18+)

summary: after struggling to figure out what to get, mark and fernando decided that they should just simply fulfill their daughter's wish with the help of their wife, y/n.

content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), holiday special, dilf!fernando and dilf!mark (and milf!reader), threesome (mfm), unprotected sex, fingering, breeding/impregnation kink, mentions of pregnancy, double penetration (i'll let you use ur imaginations), established poly relationship, i did not edit this.

note: what if i fell into a writer's block but god said "you've written a jenson and seb threeway smut but not webbonso smut yet?" (on my grid sluts shit) enjoy and happy holidays xx

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist // o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out

mark and fernando would go through the lengths of fulfilling their kid’s christmas wishes. they would always do anything for their little girl.

it was cute, really but oftentimes, even y/n found that they had spoiled her a little too much. 

the parents had been wondering what to get their little daughter, ava alonso-webber, as she continued to grow as her independent self. her mother had decided that she was big enough to decide what she would like for holidays.

meanwhile, the fathers had decided that ava was not old enough to not be spoiled. after all, mark and fernando only had one child with their wife and little ava was only six. 

y/n merely hissed at them when they gave ava a go ahead on her request and said, “don’t go overboard with her gift this year. no puppies anymore.” 

both mark and fernando shrugged before ava exclaimed, “i want a baby sibling, papì and daddy!” 

now, their wife wasn’t a miracle worker— but to try and change ava’s mind about her gift for christmas was something she shouldn’t have done. 

mark and fernando were quick to frown at this before their wife continued to avoid that conversation for the next month all while attempting to convince ava into getting something more… manageable. 

ava had eventually decided that dolls and more karting time with her dads were enough. ava’s mother was more than relieved that the little girl had relented and moved on.

the dads, the brooding fathers, were a different story. in fact, when y/n arrived from work a week before christmas, she was surprised to find the house quiet. the only thing she could hear was soft music playing in the background. she was really worried she had to sneak the toys into the bedroom without ava noticing.

but the little girl wasn’t there. instead, both mark and fernando were sitting in the living room with the recorded premier league game on.

y/n’s eyes narrowed at the sight of her husbands and asked, “uh, did we just magically lose a child before we’ve spent hours and money on her gifts or…?”

mark and fernando looked at her. then the australian spoke, “oh, hey babe. ava’s staying overnight with her cousins.” 

“and we agreed on this when…?” she raised a brow in return, walking over the two nonetheless to press kisses on their lips. fernando pulled her into his lap as mark moved closer. 

“now,” fernando murmured, his lips opting to attack her neck as she let out a soft sigh. 

mark tipped her head towards his direction before kissing her, his tongue allowing itself to tangle with hers as he hummed in satisfaction. he nearly smirked at the feeling of her breath running out as she moaned.

“we’ve been trying to get you to talk to us about something,” fernando started, his breath fanning her ear as goosebumps broke out her skin in both nervousness and excitement. 

“about…” she murmured, eventually pouting when mark tugged her hair back as she got eager to make out with him. mark gave her a stern look. 

fernando then nipped at her ear as she let out a gasp before he answered with, “what our little princess wanted.” 

it was as if the floodgates were opened, her arousal making her squirm in their hold as mark crooned, “you were so adamant about not giving her what she really wanted, baby. why’s that?” 

“i- i,” she gulped. she really wasn’t able to answer especially now that she was being tossed back and forth between the two.

she could feel their hands roaming and touching her, gasping at the feeling of fernando’s fingers as they slowly snaked their way down into her lace panties. fernando then cooed mockingly, “you’re so fucking wet, cariño. you know what we think?” 

“h- ngh,” she whimpered, unable to utter any more words as her husbands chuckled darkly. 

“we think,” fernando’s tongue glided down her throat and sucked her skin, leaving a mark on her neck as he continued, “that you want to give us a baby too. a baby sibling for our little girl.” 

“and you don’t want to tell us,” mark added, smirking at the sight of their wife writhing. y/n was already long gone, feeling extremely aroused just by having her husbands work her up like this.

y/n gasped aloud, hearing her cunt making squelching noises as fernando slid his fingers in and curled up against her sensitive spot. 

“how about we give you more babies to grow, hm?” mark murmured, kissing her hard as he slid her shirt off and tossed it someplace else. “we’re gonna fuck more babies into you until you’re full of them.” 

she nodded eagerly, writhing against the two of them as she begged wordlessly.

fernando and mark smirked and looked at each other, as if they had every intention to fulfill their goal with the help of their perfect pretty wife. 

their cocks had been doing their back and forths in her cunt, her walls stretched out due to its familiarity with their lengths as she whined loudly, sinking repeatedly as she kept her hands resting on fernando’s chest. 

the two men groaned aloud, mark grabbing a handful of her hair and tugging it lightly as his hips snapped behind her. “oh fuck,” he uttered, fucking his cock into her as she babbled incoherently.

“te ves tan bonita como siempre, cariño,” you look so pretty as always, darling. fernando cursed out as he thrusted his hips up. he muttered, “tan guapa, tan jodida así.” so pretty looking so fucked out like this. 

“mm— fuck, please,” y/n flinched at the feeling of mark’s fingers pinching on her nipple and fernando’s thumb rubbing her clit simultaneously. she yelped in pleasure, her eyes tearing up as she wailed, “want you two to cum in me— fuck, nando- mark!” 

“want us to cum inside you, yeah?” mark spoke breathlessly, the two men increasing their pace and intensity as she nodded against his chest. “can’t wait to see you full of me and fernando again, sweetheart.” 

“and these tits, fuck, hermosa,” fernando groaned, “can’t wait to see it full of milk again. you’re gonna look so fucking hot when you’re pregnant.” 

“like she did before when she had our little girl,” mark added with a chuckle, eventually groaning as he said, “you’re gonna make us so happy- you’re gonna make our little girl happy, baby.” 

“m- i want your cum, please,” she pleaded, her walls clenching as the men both groaned in pleasure. “fuck me harder! shit~ fill me up-“

“you want us to fuck you full, hm?” fernando moaned, now fucking her harder from the bottom as he continued, “fuck- i’m cumming, hermosa. hah~ fuck!” 

“oh~ hah,” mark groaned in her ear as he shot his load inside her. fernando did too, slowly thrusting and coating her cunt white like mark did. 

y/n whimpered, her body limping against fernando as the three of them eased off their orgasms. her body shook violently between the two of them before she took a deep breath and wiped her sweat off her forehead. 

she then looked at fernando and chuckled, pressing a kiss on his lips once more before moving to his side. mark had returned from the bathroom to clean her off.

she pursed her lips as she said, “would it be too late if i say that we didn’t need fuck like rabbits to get pregnant?” 

mark nearly dropped the damp towel and looked at fernando with widened eyes. fernando returned the surprised look as y/n laughed quietly.

“oh you are horny, baby,” mark laughed with her, pressing a kiss on her lips, his hands hovering on her stomach before he pressed a kiss on it.

fernando shared a kiss with her too before asking, “are you really?” 

“i am,” she grinned. “i was going to show you two when i got home but you got excited. i couldn’t tell you two i was pregnant because you two were all over me.” 

“oh fuck! finally,” mark exclaimed, grinning at fernando and their wife.

“that’s one christmas gift ticked off the list for ava,” fernando laughed. “someone’s gonna be happy that her christmas is fulfilled.”

oh, the lengths that they’d go through just to spoil their kid. 

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @topguncultleader @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico @architect-2015

♡   moony’s reminder 🅴 (explicit edition): @glitterf1 @savrose129

[daemour]

Pairing: yandere! San x f!Reader

Genre: Some fluff, angst, yandere au, established relationship au

Warnings: Murder, blood, violence, creepy waiter stares at ur boobs

WC: 1182

Summary: You and San are trying to have a nice dinner when a waiter gets a little too close for comfort...and San is having none of that.

This is a collab between me and @sanjoongie <3 she wrote san's pov and let me tell you, it is BONE chilling! ^^ please make sure to read and enjoy her side of the story too <3

-

“What do you want to order?” your boyfriend asks, thumbing through the menu.”I don’t care what or how much—it’s on me. You just have to make room for dessert.” You laugh at San’s eagerness, only to look up and see him staring at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

“Thank you, baby,” you hum, leaning over the table to kiss his lips softly. “This place looks so nice. I’m glad it’s right by us, we can just go again if we don’t get everything we like.”

San smiles, turning his head to kiss your lips properly before pulling back, a starry look still in his eyes. “Of course, love. Whatever to make you happy.”

Your cheeks burn at his sweet words and you busy yourself with the menu again.

“Are you two ready to order?” A waiter approaches your table, a smile directed at you and you flash a quick one back before looking back down.

“Uh, San, do you have an idea?”

Your boyfriend hums. “I’d like to get the steak, but I’d like to replace the salad with the potatoes. And if we can get the truffle fries as an appetiser that’d be great. Babe?”

“Uh, sure. Could I get the French onion soup? And if I could have some decaf coffee with that?” You glance up at the waiter and are utterly embarrassed to realise he’s not looking at you but down your collar at your tits. You scoot over, smile fading. “Black is fine,” you mumble out, your hand gripping the menu just a little tighter. The waiter nods, and with one last quirk of the lips, he’s taking your orders to the back of the house.

San frowns at your act, leaning forward. “Are you okay, my love?”

You shrug, pulling the collar of your dress up a little. How you wish you wore something else. “Waiter was staring at my boobs but whatever. I’m just excited for the food.” You send a small smile to your boyfriend, who returns it but with some annoyance brewing behind his eyes. But thankfully, he lets it slide.

“He should keep his eyes on his little notebook,” is the only snarky response San mutters under his breath, and the rest of the dinner goes smoothly. The two of you joke and laugh, and San moves to sit on the outside of your side of the table so when the waiter comes back he has no choice but to look at San in the eyes instead. It makes you giggle the tiniest bit and San leans into your shoulder as his shoulders shake in silent amusement at how happy you are.

“Hey babe, I’m going to head to the bathroom. Can you grab the check? And you can warm up the car if you want.” San pecks you on the cheek before standing and pulling on his suit jacket, his gloves half hanging out of the pocket.

“Stay safe and don’t fall in,” you joke and San chuckles at the bad joke you always say, shaking his head and not gracing you with a response as he hands you his wallet to pay and heads towards the back.

You finish your coffee, gather your items, and pay, but then you belatedly realise you didn’t even get to have dessert. A pout forms on your face. Dessert is easily the best part of dates with San, and now you don’t even get to have that.

“San?” You call through the men’s bathroom door. “Are you in there?”

You pause, but no response. With a sigh, you tap your foot and turn, looking around the restaurant to see if you can catch sight of his familiar blonde hair, but to no avail. But what does catch your attention is the slightly ajar door leading outside to your right and curiosity gets the better of you.

“San-ah, could we get ice-cream?” You call as you carefully step your way through the door, hiking up your skirt to not let it catch on the rugged wood.

You look to your right and see the street. You look to your left, and a scream lodges itself in your throat. There is your sweet, beautiful, loving boyfriend with blood on his hands and face as he holds a waiter…the waiter against the brick wall and a crazed grin pulling at his lips. The horror that you want to express does not come out the way you want. Instead of a shriek ripping its way out, all that you can conjure is a soft “San?” and a choked sob.

Your boyfriend’s head snaps toward you, the almost demonic smile softening as he sees you. You step towards him before stopping at the corner of the dumpster they’re behind, not willing to step even closer to the limp body.

“San, that man–” you try to say, reaching out and grabbing onto his sleeve, but San pulls his arm out of your grip as gently as he always handles you.

“My purpose is to protect you, my love. Let me do my job.”

Your eyes widen as he drops the waiter to the ground behind a dumpster, bending down to callously wipe his gloves off on the waiter’s jacket before moving closer to you.

“He won’t bother you anymore, my love. Now let’s go get ice cream,” he hums carelessly, pressing his lips to yours. You can’t tell if you want to gag at the metallic taste entering your mouth or not, but all you do is swallow your beating heart back down and nod with a shaky smile.

He wipes his face with his gloved hands before leading you to the car and driving you to your favourite ice cream parlour. He orders two vanilla cones, passing one to you as you find a booth in the corner.

You can’t quite focus on your ice cream, though. It’s quickly drooping as you lick it slowly, your eyes fixed on San. If it wasn’t for your direct witness, you’d almost not know what horror he just committed. He takes large bites of his scoop like he always does, a cheerful look on his face and no trace of malice anywhere.

“Aren’t you going to eat yours, babe?” San’s saccharine voice pulls you out of your spiralling thoughts and you quickly lap at the melting vanilla dessert. “Are you feeling okay, honey?”

You nod quickly, unsure of what to say if you should say anything. “Yeah, yeah, baby. I’m just tired.” It’s an unconvincing lie and you let your lips pull into a smile to do your best to convince him further.

San smiles back, softly, but you can’t help but still see the twisted one flash in your memory. And the worst thing is that you can’t tell whether you hate it or not. “I love you forever,” San hums, leaning over to steal a bit of your ice cream and kiss your temple.

“I love you forever,” you repeat, and you feel deep in your heart that it’s not a lie, not now, not ever.

[horanghater]

Since ur requests r open

Here's a thought. Hoshi having that post concert adrenaline surge, so he pulls you into a room backstage and fucks you till u see stars 🤩

▸ Pairing: idol!Soonyoung x F!reader ▸ Rating / Genre / AU: 18+ / pwp / established relationship If you are a minor AND/OR if your account has no age in the bio, you will be blocked upon interacting (liking/reblogging) with this post.

▸ Warnings: rough sex, piv, creampie

▸ Word Count: 542

▸ A/N: Indi, you knew exactly what you were doing here and I love you. 🥵 Ty @shuadotcom for the quick beta!

Soonyoung is almost always energetic, but nothing hypes him up more than being on stage. When the members wave to the crowd one last time and that platform descends beneath the stage, however, the satisfaction of having put on a good performance doesn’t extinguish the fire in his veins. Before you came along, exhausting himself at the gym was the closest feeling he could get to relief.

Now, Soonyoung has options. It started as a gift from you to him, but now, a year after the first time, it’s just tradition. He nearly sprints to you from the platform when they’re finally backstage and pulls you into an empty prop closet with no ceremony. The second the door is closed, he’s devouring you.

You’ve learned that when Soonyoung is like this, he’s single-minded, consumed with the need to claim you. So you let him. Eager hands tweak your nipples roughly through your top as he traps you against the wall, lips instantly attaching to your neck. He doesn’t linger, though; he can’t when he can feel his heartbeat in his cock. 

Soonyoung’s fingernails lightly scratch your hips as he yanks your panties down, hurriedly praising you for wearing a skirt tonight to provide him easy access. He makes preparation quick, twisting two, then three fingers into your core, groaning as he imagines the bliss he’s about to enter. 

Just the kiss of your pussy lips against his cockhead is enough to make him blow his load, but Soonyoung’s goal is always to make you cum first, so he screws his eyes shut and peppers your collarbone in kisses instead as he sheathes himself in you. All of his restraint goes into holding off his orgasm, so he can’t spare you from the rest of the overflow: his pace is frantic, kisses turn sharp with teeth, and delicate fingers flex into a bruising grip on your supple flesh. 

No matter how many times he fucks you like this, erratic in the darkness of a cramped room, Soonyoung always manages to overwhelm you. When he’s pounding into you, everything you know is reduced to feeling. All you know is sweat, scratches, a stretch, and the delicious drag of his veiny cock against your walls. If you asked Soonyoung, he’d say he only feels love – true, but inaccurate. Right now, what he actually feels is your fingernails clawing into his biceps and your pussy nearly locking him into place as you cream around him. It all translates to seventh heaven and feverish “I love yous” as he pounds every ounce of his essence into you.

You’re both so lost in each other, in the thrill of finally releasing the tightness in your stomachs that you can only hear each other’s cries distantly. The same can’t be said for the staff members who awkwardly pass by the closet, waiting for you both to finish so they can return items to storage.

It’s only a matter of time before someone calls out your scandalous behavior that just couldn’t wait until the hotel. But until then, you’ll keep smiling pleasantly and greeting everyone when you finally leave the closet hand-in-hand, Soonyoung’s and your cum slowly dripping from your entrance and pooling in the seat of your panties.

[bruh-anator3000]

CAT-astrophic

~~~◇◇◇~~~♡♡♡~~~◇◇◇~~~♡♡♡~~~◇◇◇~~~♡♡♡~~

A/n: *pushes rock I live under over and peeks out of the black abyss* Hey, have you guys seen a Car Wash Miguel fic anywhere? I don't know what happened to it but it's no longer here. Might've escaped... anyways, watch this cat for me while I look? Thanks. And don't mind the hot homeless dude who talks to him, they're bonding. *returns into the depths of the void*

Summary: A hot dude won't stop talking to your cat, it's kind of freaking you out.

WC: 1.7k, edited by google docs...

Pairing: Miguel x GN!Reader

Warnings: crack fic, Spider-cat's real name is Sir Jeffords bc i said so, clueless reader, pro outdoor cat (i'm not actually, keep ur cats safe pls), future-ish?, accidentally snuck in some world building, in Lyla we trust 🙏, Miguel in tight clothing bc I also said so, and wait wtf are you doing with a dead rat miguel, AND WTF IS THIS WHITE STUFF DUDE?!

Also no Spanish bc I've done some research and those who do speak it have asked non-native speaker to avoid it, to prevent bad google translations and maintain respect!

Okay, enjoy~

~~~◇◇◇~~~♡♡♡~~~◇◇◇~~~♡♡♡~~~◇◇◇~~~♡♡♡~~

You were about to head in for the night when you were not tripped by your cat for his dinner. After a quick search around your apartment, you sighed upon realizing he was still outside. Shrugging on a coat, mismatched slippers, and grabbing a flashlight, you went out to look for him.

Plenty of people told you to keep your cat inside. That it was vital to their health to keep them safe indoors. There were plenty of articles stating the cons of letting a domesticated cat roam freely outside with no supervision. They were also written 80 years ago. The world has changed since then, drastically.

Sure, it would still be smart to keep Sir Jeffords inside. Less late night searches for him, no more worrying if that scratch on his right paw was from running too fast along pavement or something worse. But he came from the life of an alley cat, and no matter what you tried, he had to be out there for a few hours a day. Last time you tried to stop him, he went under your radar for three days. You had a panic attack, worried he didn't love you anymore, but he did eventually come back. Chipper and eager, and he made sure you left his cat door unlocked.

The streets were cleaner than 80 years ago. The people were kinder. The city more accommodating to everyone, even stray animals. Sir Jeffords was mirco chipped, and even if it didn't work for tracking half the time, the shelter folks could scan his neck and drop him back home.

There were no pounds or pest controls anymore, just volunteers who helped poor animals stay warm. And find whoever left them in the streets. It was a crime to leave them now, resulting in 6 months of detention if caught dumping your animal friend into the alleys.

Jeffords was a smart cat. He knew what he was doing. You trusted him. In the event of something bad happening, you made him swore he would come find you right away. Though he couldn't speak, his tail wrapping around your pinky seemed solid enough.

You called out his name, followed by a few 'pspspsps's to really seal the deal. Your flashlight shining in the darker corners of the streets he may be hiding in. Cats and their dark, unreachable corners, Sir Jeffords fell victim to any cozy spot he could barely tuck himself into.

It wasn't until a few blocks away, a little past the bank, when you heard a meow. Very similar to his, you quietly sped your pace, wanting to grab your kitty and go home. The closer you got, it seemed more like he was responding to someone else more than you.

"-and your service is always appreciated." You heard a deep voice whisper. Their voice a grumble echoing through the alley they hid in. "You're one of our best." Your brows pinching together, you turned the corner of the bank, flashlight illuminating your fluffy orange cat. Who was rubbing up against the shin of a random man.

He looked up at you, eyes darkened as he blocked your flashlight with his large hand. They almost seemed red as he stayed squatted, Sir Jeffords head butting his knee. His face pure sharp angles, with a scowl permanently in place. His black shirt a tight, compressing fit. Clinging to each muscle and vein in his arm, stopping halfway down his bicep. His calves just as impressive. His shorts doing nothing but making him look even hotter.

Wait, no. This was a random man, he wasn't hot.

You lowered the light and gave an awkward smile. Seemingly unimpressed, his hardened gaze turned back to your cat. "He's yours?" He asked, voice rumbling low in his chest. With a nod, he added, "He's... cute."

Okay, maybe he was a little hot.

"Right?" Your smile smoothed into something more natural. "He's the cutest cat to ever exist." You lowered yourself down onto your knees with a soft baby call. Sir Jeffords trotting into your lap happily, orange fur swaying with his steps.

Your hand ran through his silky fur. Tension easing from you as you held him close again. Though his three day disappearance had yet to happen again, you still worried. He was your precious baby, after all. The one you shared everything with, and he never once judged.

Your fingers caught on something sticky, stopping short of his lower back. Pulling your hand away, strings of white followed, sticking to your fingertips. The feeling moist and far too clingy for comfort. A disgusted shiver ran up your spine at the horrible sensory.

The man stood then, tossing a tissue at you as he did. His gaze stayed on your cat, never faltering. He pushed his dark hair away from his face, still scowling.

Glancing between your hand and the man that now towered over you, you almost gagged. This wasn't... his, right?

"It was the rat." Like he read your mind, the mysterious stranger held out his other hand. A dead rat laid in his palm.

"That... doesn't make me feel much better." You suppressed another full body shake, quickly wiping your hand off. This guy may be extremely attractive to look at but the longer you stayed there, the more uncomfortable you got. "How would a mouse... And what is this?" You felt yourself getting sick as you held the tissue out, the white stuff now sticking to the paper instead

"Webs. And, it's a rat." He stated with a straight face. More angry at your confusion than anything. "Chased him through some spider webs."

You let out a soft 'oh.' But that didn't explain why he was holding onto the dead rat.

And he let it stay that way. Instead of reading your mind like he had been this entire time, he just... walked off. With a dead animal in his grasp. Without a word.

Your confused gaze turned to your cat, knees beginning to ache from the pressure of concrete beneath. Sir Jeffords purred into your stomach loudly.

"You're not allowed to hang out with that guy, ever again."

...

"Christ!" Miguel tossed the rat at the wall, hearing him curse. The small animal glitched into a grown adult, body morphing sickly. "That..." The villain panted, rubbing at his neck. Bruises from how tightly he was held already forming there. "... was not what I was expecting."

Miguel squatted back down, balancing on his toes as the hologram of regular clothes shifted back into his suit. "You chose to become a rat, in a world whose Spider-Man is a cat." He slammed down a disk, red netting encasing the fool. "That was your own fault."

"It was the only way I could get into the bank!" The villain squeaked. Miguel tuned out almost immediately, eyes turning to his watch. Setting the portal to his universe, and making sure he wasn't needed elsewhere. He entertained the villain in a tacky grey suit with distant hums and 'oh, yeah, uh-huh's. It was best to just let them get it out of their system then try to shut them up.

"And I would've gotten away with it, too! If it weren't for you and your cat!" The shape shifter writhed in the nets.

"Sound like a damn Scooby-Doo villain." Miguel stood up with a huff. He would never admit it, but Hobie used the term so often, he had to look up what he was referencing. Only to end up watching the first few seasons. He had to stop around the third season, a sick sense of deja vu hitting him with a bat. The cartoons reminded him too much of the daughter he never really had.

With a sigh, "Lyla," He called.

The AI appeared before him, wearing a shit eating smirk. He opened his mouth to command something else when she beat him to it. "You should've asked for their number."

"What?" Miguel's head snapped up, eyes wide.

"They were cute, should've asked them on a date." She glitched to his side with a teasing laugh.

"Lyla, I... no." He grumbled, flicking at his watch.

"Oh, you know?" Miguel tried to smack her away, only for her to reappear on his left shoulder. "You should go back, then."

Miguel glared at her, ignoring how the tips of his ears began to burn. "I can't, its-"

"Not a canon event." They said at the same time. Lyla rolling her eyes behind her heart-shaped glasses, Miguel focusing on creating a portal. "You're such a loser, you know that?" She huffed and puffed, spawning with her back turned to him.

He tried to reach out with a heavy breath, but she moved further away. This time sitting with her arms crossed and pouting.

"They were cute." The villain nodded from his fetal position on the ground. Earning a glare from the two. Shrinking further into himself, the shape-shifter apologized.

Miguel thrust his forearms forward, his mantis blades catching on the fabric of time. Ripping them apart with a grunt. Orange and purple twisted in front of him, and he grabbed a hold of the red netting the anomaly was in.

"Meet me back at HQ," He spoke to his AI with a nod. Foot already in the portal, he turned to cast a menacing glance at Lyla. "And do not try anything."

She held up her hands in defense, watching the portal close behind him. It wasn't like she even had to do anything - not anymore. She already slipped his multiversal number into the collar of Spider-Cat. All that needed to happen was you either found it, or it fell out. Lyla just had to wait to see which option would be canon.

~~~◇◇◇~~~♡♡♡~~~◇◇◇~~~♡♡♡~~~◇◇◇~~~♡♡♡~~

Check out my Masterlist!

[beccascribbles]

totally inspired by ur omegaverse manager going into heat it is literally a masterpiece!! could you maybe do the same prompt but for seijoh in honor of oikawa's ear making an appearance🥺been thirsting for seijoh content lately sos

a/n - writing this a little (sorry, a lot) later so it's in honour of his ear and his 5 seconds of fame. also i'm really pleased you enjoyed it!! i had a great time writing it (first time in a while that i finished a fic in one sitting). hope you enjoy this one :)

Managing Seijoh was an experience, one that you were sure you would look back on with fond memories in the future. However, at the moment, it was borderline undesirable. A group of omegas and betas surrounded you, pressing letters and gifts into your arms.

"Please give this to Oikawa," one of them begged, placing a carefully wrapped parcel on the top.

You forced a smile onto your lips, peering around the stack in your arms to look at the people surrounding you. Voice filled with false kindness, you spoke, "I'll hand deliver these to him straight away. I'm sure Tooru will really appreciate it."

That last sentence was a lie. It had been a while since the gifts Oikawa received hadn't been shared between the team, particularly the food which was likely to feature heavily in the pile. A chorus of thanks followed you down the corridor, and your smile dropped as soon as you turned the corner.

"Dumb fan club," you grumbled, fighting the urge to throw the pile of gifts into the next bin you saw. You couldn't understand why they always came to you, why they begged you to hand him the gifts when he would likely appreciate it more if they were given to him in person. You kicked open the door of the gym, yelling out, "Delivery!"

Heads turned in your direction, volleyballs hitting the floor as everyone stopped practicing and jogged towards you. Iwaizumi removed a majority of the gifts from your hold, going to place them on the bench, and shooting Oikawa a glare, jerking his head in your direction. Begrudgingly, Oikawa took the last few gifts from you and placed them where Iwaizumi had placed the others.

"There any food there?" questioned Kyoutani, picking up a parcel wrapped with a teal ribbon. He sniffed it, nose wrinkling as the scent of an omega filled his nose. Then, he threw it to the side and grunted, "Tell me when you find the food."

"They smell a bit sickly, don't they?" you giggled, giving him a nudge with your elbow. Kyoutani simply nodded, moving away to sit on the floor, back leaning against the wall. You turned to Oikawa, hands resting on your hips. "I expect adequate payment for the hassle this caused me."

"Does my love and affection forever count?" he beamed, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and tugging you into his side. You simply glared at him, arms crossing over your chest. He chose to ignore your clear displeasure at his reply.

"You think way too highly of yourself, Loserkawa," smirked Iwaizumi, throwing a gift his way. Oikawa caught the item, cringing at the small piece of fabric that dangled from his finger. It was dainty, a delicate lace.

"Clearly that one was just meant for you," snickered Hanamaki as Oikawa held the item upwards, taking it in from a different angle.

"y/n?" he questioned, holding it out to. "Could be a good addition to your wardrobe."

"Fuck off," you snapped, turning away from him to grab a bin bag. You shoved it towards him. "Throw it in here."

As Oikawa disposed of the item, Matsukawa could be heard opening a parcel. He pulled out a DVD from the remains, peering at what was written on the case. He mumbled, "Watch when you're alone?"

"Oi, Oikawa!" he called, drawing his attention. Oikawa skipped over, clearly expecting something good. "I think someone sent you a video of themselves. Send us your reactions, yeah?"

Oikawa snatched the DVD from Matsukawa, throwing it into the bin, his nose wrinkled in disgust. He whined, "Where's the food? Why have they all got so much worse?"

With a sigh, deciding you had tortured Oikawa and delayed practice enough, you clapped your hands together. "Shoo. Get back to practice and I'll sort this shit out. All offending items will be binned. Only food will be kept."

By the time you had sorted through all the items, the bin bag was full, full enough that it required you to take it out. Only a small pile of food had been found, barely enough to share between the team. You supposed you would forgo your portion in favour of ensuring the first years got something. They were always hesitant to dive in, letting the third years take control. Kyoutani was also threatening, growling at any who got too close to the food he had acquired. You stood up, grabbing the bin bag and hefting it over one shoulder.

A sigh escaped from your lips as you pushed the door open. Maybe Oikawa could start requesting food, you contemplated, shifting the bin bag into your other hand. The weight was surprising considering the items you’d had to dispose of. Honestly, a part of you still couldn’t wrap your head around what Oikawa had received. How could they think Oikawa would appreciate that?

You grunted, swinging the bag into the larger bin around the back of the gym. Stepping back, you dusted your hands off, stretching slightly. As you turned to head back to the gym, a sharp, unfamiliar scent filled your nose. It burnt your nostrils, reeked of aggression and anger. The rational part of you told you to leave, to return to the safety of the gym. But the other part of you, the part that told you to help others, kept you rooted in place.

"Hello?" you questioned, inhaling deeply as you attempted to pinpoint their location. Judging by the strength of the scent, they were close to your location, somewhere to the left of you. You stepped in that direction. "Are you okay?"

A growl cut through the air, and you halted, eyes widening as you saw an alpha leant against the wall, hands clenched into fists. He was panting, nails cutting through the skin of his palm. He looked up, catching your eye and pleading with you. "Stay the fuck away from me. Please. Stay away."

It clicked for you then. The sharp scent growing more prominent, the aggression, the desperation with which he pleaded with you. Immediately, you clamped down on your scent, tugging it in as much as you could and ensuring it didn't head in the alpha's direction. You had to question whether bringing more alphas to him would be an aid. Knowing Oikawa, he would feel the alpha going into rut was a threat and would act aggressive in return. Matsukawa and Iwaizumi would likely be no better if they perceived them to be a direct threat to you. Kyoutani was usually aggressive at the best of times. It went against your better judgement to involve any of the first years. They were too young to be exposed to such danger. Actually, it went against your better judgement to involve any of the team. All you should do, you reasoned, was inform the coaches quietly and keep it hidden from the team.

The longer you stood there contemplating, the weaker you could feel yourself growing, a steady heat rising through your body. You cursed under your breath, a quiet fuck, before raising the volume of your voice. "Just stay here, okay? I'll send the coaches out to help you."

Slowly, you backed away, careful to avoid sending your scent towards him. Your scent was slowly growing sweeter, more enticing. It would cause him to lose his control, a situation neither of you wanted to be in. Judging by the tightening of his muscles and the way he launched a fist into the wall, he had caught a whiff of your change in scent.

"Get away," he growled, a low threatening sound. The spike in his scent told a different story, pheromones strengthening in an attempt to weaken you further.

Your throat felt tight, knees weak as you continued to retreat. Even at the door to the gym, his scent was overpowering. A desperate sound escaped your throat, a high-pitched whine as you collapsed against the door. Footsteps, quick and hurried, echoed from inside, the door being yanked open to reveal Oikawa, the rest of the team on his heels. His lips were drawn, teeth bared at the danger that was hidden from sight. A ferocious growl ripped from his throat at the smell of the alpha in rut.

"Coaches," you gasped, pointing in the alpha's direction. "Alpha. Rut. Get him. Safe."

Iwaizumi shot you a concerned look, picking up on your condition and the overwhelming scent of alpha around you. Oikawa's reeked of possessiveness, rising up to fight against that of the other alpha. Kyoutani's scent was pure anger. He was eager for a fight, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Matsukawa's scent was calm, but domineering enough to add to the scents already assaulting your nose. That was without mentioning the bitter smell of panic drifting from all the first years as they watched in fear.

"For fuck sake," he sighed, kneeling down to pick you up, cradling you to his chest. His soothing pine scent flooded your nose as you buried your face in his chest. A helpless sound escaped your lips as your hands curled into his top. Greedily, you drew in a deep breath, craning your neck up to brush your nose against the scent gland in his neck. Iwaizumi drew in a sharp breath, holding you closer. He looked up, making eye contact with Hanamaki and Watari, and jerking his head towards Oikawa and Kyoutani. "Keep them away from that alpha. I'm taking y/n somewhere safe. Yahaba, get the coaches. Kunimi, Kindaichi, head back into the gym and tidy up."

Iwaizumi didn’t remain long enough to see if the commands he had barked at the team had been followed. In his arms, you were slowly growing more feverish, your breathing coming out in heavy pants. All he could focus on was you. Your nose tickled the scent gland in his neck as you nuzzled against it, finding comfort there. It was a sharp contrast to the scents that had surrounded you previously. Iwaizumi had been the only one to not give in completely to his animalistic urges, his eyes immediately falling on you, his nose sensitive to the change in your scent. His first instinct was to take you to the medical room. However, he knew that you would feel safer at home, within the confines of your nest.

It was fortunate this wasn’t a usual heat. Your body had reacted to the overpowering scent of a young alpha’s rut, preparing you for what may have happened had the young alpha not had so much restraint. It was a defence mechanism, one meant to protect you from what could have been a traumatic experience. Therefore, your body would calm down once you were removed from the situation. As he turned towards the gate, you let out a whimper, “Locker room, Haji. Smells good.”

That whimper was all it took for him to change direction once again, heading towards the room. It wouldn’t be comfortable, but it was clear you craved the scents within there. After all, the team was your pack. You felt safe with them. His mind whirled as he tried to think of how to make it more comfortable. Iwaizumi knew Oikawa had some spare tops in his locker which could help form a cushion. He supposed he could place a couple different training jackets on the floor for you to rest on. His own he would use as a blanket.

Carefully, he placed you on the floor, leaning you against the wall and wrapping his jacket around your form. He brushed a kiss to the top of your head. “Just give me a second. The nest will be ready soon.”

“So hot, Haji,” you whined, tugging at the material of your thin t-shirt. Iwaizumi let out a sigh, scanning the locker room for anything that might cool you down. When he turned back around, you had removed your top and were curled up against the wall. He felt a flush rise to his cheeks, ducking his head as he finished laying the jackets down on the floor. Before moving you, he placed a hand to your forehead, feeling the heat radiating from you.

"Um, do you need a cold flannel?" he questioned, and you shook your head, reaching out to hold him, burying your face on his chest.

"No, just need you," you mumbled, pausing for a second before continuing. "And Tooru. And Issei. And Kentaro. And..."

"I know," he soothed, running a hand down your back, feeling the warmth of your bare skin against the roughness of his palm. "I know. The team will be here soon."

"Okay, Haji," you sighed, letting him pick up your weak body and lay you down on the nest of clothes he had prepared. You turned your nose into the t-shirts acting as your pillow, inhaling deeply when the scent of Oikawa hit your nose. Your hand reached out, grabbing loosely onto his top, stopping him from moving away from you. The continual tugging of his top hinted to him what you wanted. He lay down behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you back against his chest. As you felt yourself relax, felt your body steadily returning to normal, the door was thrown open.

Oikawa stormed in, coming to a halt when he saw you and Iwaizumi curled up on the floor together. He needed no prompting, joining you on the floor and draping an arm over you and Iwaizumi. Oikawa pressed a kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, letting out a pleased purr at the smile that tugged at your lips.

"Sorry about earlier," he mumbled, nuzzling his head into your neck. "Shouldn't have lost control. Should've been there for you."

"I had it handled, Shittykawa," grunted Iwaizumi. "Some of us can keep our alpha in check."

"You're so mean to me, Iwa-chan," whined Oikawa.

"He's not wrong, Tooru," you mumbled, though the kiss placed to his forehead showed there was no ill-will behind your agreement. You understood how hard it was to control your instincts, having fallen afoul to them yourself.

He stayed silent, letting his scent weave through the air around you, twining with Iwaizumi's. Just as you were settling in again, the door was thrown open, revealing the rest of the team. Matsukawa and Hanamaki collapsed onto the floor at you feet, the first and second years surrounding you. Kyoutani laid out behind Iwaizumi, partaking purely to help you and make you happy. Kunimi and Kindaichi curled up on the floor beside Matsukawa, while Watari and Yahaba laid down beside Oikawa. You let out a content sigh, breathing in the various scents.

Matsukawa traced patterns on your ankle with his fingertips, shooting you a lazy grin. "Feel better?"

"Much better," you said, another pleased sound escaping your lips. "Thank you."

"No need," said Kyoutani gruffly, rolling onto his side and propping up on one elbow so he could see your form.

"What are you accepting the apology for?" piped Yahaba, shooting a teasing smirk in Kyoutani's direction. "You did fuck all except getting angry."

"Shut up," growled Kyoutani, though he made no move to throw himself at Yahaba, mindful of you.

You felt a smile appear on your face at their interaction, the familiar sound of their arguing reminding you everything was normal and that you were safe.

[yandere--stuck]

(This is the anon about ur zagreus fic! sorry for sending this as an ask, your submission box is closed as far as i can tell,, either way, enjoy <3)

You’d seen the Prince of the Underworld, for the first time, on the day you set foot here.

Dying was a lot to take in, to no one’s surprise. One moment you were merely falling asleep, the next you were clawing your way to the surface of a crimson river. You were sore all over, legs trembling as you walked. (No, gods, did you even really have legs anymore? Were you walking or floating?) It all went by in a haze. The person (shade, man, god?) listing your cause of death after startling awake, and having you take your place in the line.

Your mind drifting to better times became much more difficult when you’re faced with the near obliterating gaze of Lord Hades, looking straight through you for his judgement. Maybe you wouldn’t be as eager to sink through the floor if he hadn’t shown his displeasure with the person in front of you for an ‘ignorant request’. Was it possible for shades to cry? You supposed you were about to find out.

Then, a flash of red made you jump, cutting in front of you as you were about to take another step forward. You blinked, and there was now a man. His skin gray and hair dark, he had a striking resemblance to Hades on his throne. Even the wreath matched. But his actions couldn’t be more of a stark opposite with the stern god in front of you. He cooed at the dog, the exact words he was saying lost on you, and it leaned toward him. It was such a ridiculous sight, the gigantic Cerberus sticking its tongue out and wagging his tail, craning its head for more scratches underneath its chin, that it broke you from your panic and made you muffle a laugh.

Not even Lord Hades snapping at, what you assume to be, his son to cease bothering the dog, got you nearly as scared again. You never got the chance to, in one way or another, thank him. Despite being dead, you were certain you would’ve never lived it down if you burst into tears at the moment of your judgement. Your sentence was given, and received.

Elysium is beautiful.

It’s a privilege to be here, of course you’re aware. To share these hallowed grounds with the greatest heroes of history, ones you’d only heard wild tales about, and to roam these fields of endless green is a wish for many. The reward you received for a lifetime of servitude as one of Artemis’ hunting attendants, and never falling out of your goddesses' grace while doing so. But, even in a gorgeous place such as this one, there are still things left to mull over. Besides regrets made during your life, you sometimes think back to your first day here, and to the prince that saved you from humiliation, without being aware. You had made your mind up to, if you ever encountered a second time, to pay your dues.

There are few things for the dead to indulge in. Rumours are one of them, especially ones as grand as the supposed escape attempt of the prince, Zagreus. The whispers among the shades spoke of an upcoming battle between him, Theseus and Asterius. You’re sure everyone is welcome to watch as Theseus enjoys fighting in front of as large of an audience as possible. The thought makes you giddy, too. Not only do you get to see the prince again, you can show him your appreciation in such a direct way, too. You’d used flowers for the red of your banner, at first. It took ages and wasn’t bright enough for your liking. With enough travelling through the fields however, you came across more and more puddles of dried blood. Whose it used to be, you don’t know, but you used some. They wouldn’t be needing it anymore, would they? Your clothes were still dyed with flowers, though.

When the rumours turn out true, you’re one of the first in the line. You’d expected most of the visitors to be in support of the minotaur or his friend, but you weren’t anticipating being the sole person cheering for Zagreus. There’s no time to care for it. Your shame died along with you. Either way, you’re much more enthralled by the scene unfolding in front of you. The movements are so quick they’re hard to keep track of, a flurry of attempted hits, the prince dashing around as he shoots a flurry of arrows. (You swear he catches your eyes one, and as selfish as the thought is, you think you made him smile.) A spear pierces his chest, and his body falls to the ground.

He returns, dies, returns, returns and dies. You are there for every battle. At one point, you pick up the habit of waving at him as soon as he enters the battlefield, and he returns the gesture. During the fight, you call out his name, your voice lost in the ocean of cheers. (Once again, it’s a self indulgent thought, but Zagreus always moves towards the part of the arena opposite of you, glancing in what you think might be your general direction.) To soften the ache in your heart every time he is forced to sink to his knees, you observe. He lasts longer every time, gets better at dodging, manages to hit more, and then- No longer is he the one forced to accept his losses. Just like during his fights, it’s impossible to tear your eyes away from him.

“I dedicate this victory to you, my Good Shade!” And yet, it still comes as a surprise. To have him staring up at you, smiling widely, as if you aren’t merely one dead among many, on an entirely different, lower level than his. In your journey to show your appreciation for him, you’ve only gained his in return. (Though you’re certain that this is the most personal interaction you’ll have with him; two very separate existences, only interacting for a moment.) You lean over the railing of the arena, and give a smile of your own.

~~~

some noootes…! like i said this was inspired by your yandere!zagreus post,, i wanted to write a little something from reader’s perspective <3!! i added the attendant of artemis detail out of self indulgence,,, they wouldve been sworn to have no relationships during their life so they might not immediately realise how out of the ordinary zagreus is acting later on :P and them using zagreus’ blood for their banner for him was just ironic to me lmao,, hope u enjoyed it <33!!! thanks for ur writing <3

OH MY GOD ANON THIS SO AMAZING!!!!!!!! YOU'RE SUCH A TALENTED WRITER OMG!!!!! I love your prose and the way you write out actions! This is so creative and, using Zag's own blood for the banner?? UGH. I can't get over it. This drabble my beloved.....

I love this sm and I can't thank you enough for submitting this, this is just. Incredible!!!!! :DDDD

[tsumucore]

LUCID DREAMS

✎ … Miya Atsumu

word count: 5.2k

warnings: NSFW, pwp, daddy kink, a lot of degradation, spanking, choking, sexting, overstimulation, masturbation, he kinda spits in your mouth, just rough sex overall

All characters are 18+ !!!!

A/N: this is my first nsfw fic, so pls bear with me 🥺  I’m also dedicating this to @starboybokuto and @strawbericream for inspiring me and also bc they’re literally smut icons in the fandom and after writing this, I’m realizing just how hard it it to do and I just wanna appreciate them for all the effort they put in <3

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

His moans were like honey, pouring from his sweet lips and into your ears, as his thrusts became erratic. He was close. The sounds of your own pleasure filled the room before he swallowed them up completely with his beautiful mouth. You were close. This space that was inhabited by you two was the only dimension where time didn’t exist. Nothing else mattered in this moment, except for each other. You were so, so, so, so, so clo-

“Wake up!”

Your roommate’s exclamation breaks you out of your lust-filled slumber with a jolt. You groan and silently curse her as details of the dream gradually come back to you; she’d have to make a run for it if she valued her life, or at least avoiding getting smacked in the face by the pillow you throw at her with impressive force.

“Y/N, what did I do? she whines. “You told me to wake you up. I only did what you said!”

“Literally fuck you, I was having a good dream,” you fire back.

“MAN if you don’t… anyway shouldn’t you be in class by now?” Your eyes widen as you fumble for your phone to check the time.

“Shit!” Usually, you wouldn’t have bothered showing up if you were running late, but this class took attendance, and you were already on the cusp between two letter grades. A menial attendance point could be the difference between maintaining your GPA or tarnishing it.

You wash up in record time, throw on some clothes, and shove your necessary belongings in your backpack before slinging it on your back. You don’t even have time to fill up your water bottle; you’d just have to purchase one on campus later. You pop in your earbuds, select a random playlist, and fly out the door.

You don’t stop until you reach the lecture hall. You try not to cringe as you push open the door, slinking your way in the back to find an open seat; luckily, there was one near the door so your humiliation was short-lived. When you finally sit down and situate yourself, you take a deep breath for the first time that morning and collect your thoughts.

As your mind wanders, memories of your erotic dream come back to you. The faintest of color tints your cheeks, and you shift slightly in your seat as you subtly cross your legs. You pull out your phone, preparing to fire a text at lightning speed. You need your boyfriend.

Y/N: i miss you

Atsumu: :))

Y/N: im not trying to gas ur big head up even more than it already is i’m just whore knee

Atsumu: OH????? aren’t you in class rn?

Y/N: i’d rather be choking on your fat cock tbh

Atsumu: naughty girl, why are you saying such things in the middle of class?

Y/N: what are you gonna do about it... choke me? spank me? make me cum over and over and over again?

Atsumu: Watch your mouth, baby...

Y/N: Ok...

Y/N: ...daddy.

Fighting the smile tugging at your lips, you set your phone on ‘do not disturb’ and refocus your attention on the professor’s droning voice. By the time lecture was over, you scramble out of the building, eager to make a quick call to your boyfriend so you could describe to him in specific detail everything you wanted him to do to you.

Alas, you heard the voices of your friends calling out to you, so you’re forced to sit through idle chit-chat until your next class starts. Of course, today was also a full day, so you would have to endure the rest of your classes, your position as a TA, and the study session your classmates were pulling together at the library for your next exam - which just so happened to be in two days, meaning you couldn’t opt out. At this rate, you wouldn’t be leaving campus until dark. And it was only 10 in the morning.

While you daydream in your next class, you’re broken out of your reverie by the realization that you had neglected to check your phone after effectively ending the conversation with Atsumu the way that you had. You unlock your phone, seeing that you have just one unread message from him - a photo. 

You know what’s coming before you even open it, so you’re careful to ensure that your screen isn’t in anyone’s line of sight - luckily, you were sitting in the back again, so there aren’t any prying eyes over your shoulder. You turn down the brightness and open the conversation before practically salivating on the spot.

You have an idea of what exactly the photo was going to be of, but nothing could prepare you for the effect it had on you.

It’s evident that he had propped up his phone on something and taken the photo on self-timer. Bleached tufts of hair fell over his forehead as he winked back at you through the screen with his lips pursed as if he was going to kiss someone. The only thing he wore was a gold chain around his neck. He was flashing a peace sign with one hand, while the other was wrapped around a good sized erection.

You feel your mouth dry up and your thighs subconsciously squeeze together. The way this photo was triggering a physiological reaction from your body was astounding. You need this man, and you need him now. You whisper to your friend that you had to use the bathroom, that you might be gone for a while - it must have been the iced coffee going straight through you - and to let you know if you missed anything. You try not to trip over anyone’s legs in your haste to get to the restroom.

Since this was a fairly large building, there were multiple restrooms, and so you locate the one you know is always empty and secluded - the one below the main floor. Once you enter, you do a quick check in each stall to make sure you’re alone before locking the door. You go into the biggest stall and commence with your plan of action.

You take off your shirt and bra and neatly hang them on the hooks behind the stall door. The sudden exposure to the chilly air makes you shiver as your nipples harden in response. You then bring your phone up to your chest, so that your face isn't in frame and begin to record yourself lightly massaging your breasts. You make sure to softly moan Atsumu’s name when you pinch your nipple, rolling it between your thumb and index finger. After about thirty seconds, you promptly send the footage to your boyfriend.

He immediately starts facetiming you which causes your thighs to squeeze together expectantly. When you answer the call, you’re greeted with dark, lustful eyes and a shit-eating grin.

“I heard someone missed me today.” His tone is slightly mocking, indicative of something deeper underneath.

“I had a dream about you,” you inform him as you slowly begin to massage your breasts the way you had before.

“Yeah? What happened in your dream?” His eyes darken as he shrewdly observes the way you sigh as your fingers glide over your nipples. God, he wished he could just take them in between his teeth.

You bite your lip in response to his tone becoming increasingly huskier. “I dreamed about you… fucking me.” Your voice falters a bit as you suddenly feel a wave of shyness rush over you. Atsumu often had this effect on you - sure, there was no limit to the amount of things you had done together; however, he was still able to make you feel flustered, as if it was the first time all over again.

“How naughty,” he scoffs. “You love actin’ so innocent, but what would people say if they really knew what was goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours? What would they say if they saw what you were tellin’ me in the middle of class? Do ya know what they would say, dollface?”

You can’t bring yourself to respond, only managing a feeble shaking of your head.

“They would call you a whore. A filthy, depraved slut. And do ya know what sluts get?”

Again, another feeble shake.

“Nothing. Sluts get nothing,” he laughs mockingly as he angles his phone until you have an adequate view of the way he’s been stroking himself this entire time. “And now, dollface, you’re gonna have to watch me get myself off. I want your hands off of yourself entirely... If I catch you touchin’ yourself even once, you get nothing. But if you’re good, I might just play with ya later.”

You whimper at his order, but you have no choice; you had brought this upon yourself by getting him riled up with those texts in the first place. As you swallow thickly, he begins to jerk himself off - slowly at first, torturing you with each stroke as he looks directly through the camera and into your eyes. He then begins to pick up the pace as heavy pants and the occasional moan escapes from his mouth.

“See what ya did to me, baby? This is all because of you.” His breathing grows erratic as he edges closer and closer to his release. “And now look at you. Watchin’ a man jerk off in a public restroom, with your tits out, when you’re supposed to be in class like a good girl. Now tell me, does that sound like a good girl?”

You merely whimper in response.

“Answer me,” he practically growls. “Does. That. Sound. Like. A. Good. Girl.”

“No,” you whisper as you feel a surge of arousal rush to your core. You knew your panties would be suffering thoroughly by the time you returned to class.

“Then tell me, dollface. What. Are. You.” Each enunciation is emphasized with a hard stroke to his cock - the same way he would be thrusting into you. It takes absolutely everything in you not to sneak your hand down to your throbbing clit; he’d know if you did, he always did. The prospect of not being touched by him later was unthinkable, so you continue to helplessly watch him fuck his own hand.

“I’m a filthy whore, your filthy whore,” you whine in compliance as you watch him thrust into his hand a few more times before letting out a long, drawn out moan and spilling his release all over himself. You can’t help the moan that escapes your own lips as you take in the sight of his flushed face and heavy rising and falling of his chest.

“You actually listened to me for once? This is a surprise,” he chuckles once he recovers from his orgasm. “Hurry up and come over… I’ll fuck ya ‘til you can’t even remember your own name.”

•.｡.༺✩༻.｡.•

For the rest of the day, you hoped you were doing a relatively adequate job of hiding your arousal as you went about your responsibilities. You were literally counting down the seconds until you were finished with everything so you could meet up with Atsumu and let him fuck you like he promised. At one point, you caught yourself almost drooling during your group study session at the library. You took this as your cue to leave, so you politely excused yourself by letting the others know that it was time for you to leave as you had to get up early the next morning.

After what felt like the longest and, thanks to Atsumu, the most torturous day ever, you felt completely ravenous. From the second you had woken up, you had been straight up horny, and the fact that you hadn't been able to take care of it was driving you insane. You had been rushed all day, never having a moment to yourself, and when you did, Atsumu had specifically instructed you not to satisfy yourself the way you needed to be satisfied. It was unfair.

To make matters worse, you missed the train that would take you to Atsumu’s apartment as he lived quite a while away from your campus. The next train would be leaving in an hour, which was just too much for you at this point. Delay after delay. You grit your teeth in frustration as you weigh your options: you could wait another painstaking hour for the train that would inevitably take you to your dick appointment or you could spend a fortune by calling for a taxi and getting there right now. While you mentally calculate your finances, your clit throbs just slightly when you cross your legs, which causes you to throw all thoughts of being a penniless college student out the window in favor of getting fucked mercilessly as soon as possible.

•.｡.༺✩༻.｡.•

Of course the elevator in Atsumu’s apartment building was currently out of order at that moment, leaving you with no other choice but to climb the seven flights of stairs to his apartment. At this point, you feel like you’re running on some sort of primal instinct as you sprint up the stairs with the vigor possessed by only someone who’s about to be dicked down. By the time you reach his door, you’re already huffing and puffing, but your own exhaustion escapes your mind as you ring his doorbell impatiently. Once the door swings open, you’re greeted with the sight of your boyfriend smirking back at you.

The motherfucker wore nothing but loose gray sweatpants that hung dangerously low on his hips and the same gold chain around his neck from earlier. You chuck your backpack on the floor and throw yourself onto him, pressing your lips against his (minty?) ones. The kiss is sloppy and intense as you try to make him feel the desperation you had been forced to endure all day long. 

Somehow, your clothes find themselves on the ground in a matter of seconds. He lightly slaps at your thigh, a signal for you to jump into his arms. When you do, your hands immediately find themselves tangled in his hair, and you tug at the roots lightly, earning a growl from him. You gasp and moan into his mouth when you feel his hands give your ass a good squeeze. He manages to carry you like this into his bedroom before gently dropping you onto his bed, where he palms himself above you as he gazes at your nude form. On god, you can literally see his dick print through his sweats, and it only fuels the wetness forming between your thighs.

“Atsumu, I’ve been waiting all fucking day long. Stop being an asshole and fuck me already like you promised,” you whine as you reach your hands up to rub them along his abdomen, relishing in the feeling of his abs beneath your fingertips. You were hoping that this would coax him into giving you what you want, but he merely ceases his actions and raises an eyebrow at you.

“Who do you think you are, talkin’ to me like that?” His eyes narrow, and he leans down so that he’s hovering directly above you. “Is my baby so goddamn horny that she actually forgot her manners?” His hand comes up to wrap around your throat, gradually squeezing it harder as he glares at you. “Looks like I’ll have to remind ya how to properly speak to me. Turn over - I want that ass up in the air.” 

You pout as you obey his command and flip over on your knees so that your face is shoved into the pillow and your ass is sticking straight up for him, bracing yourself for what you know is about to come.

“You know the drill, since you wanna be such a goddamn slut - count for daddy.” Before you can respond, his hand collides with your left asscheek, causing you to yelp and moan, “One,” weakly into the pillow. The sting doesn’t last for very long, but you know better - by tomorrow, you won’t be able to sit properly.

He continues delivering powerful slaps to your ass and admires the way it jiggles with every smack and the redness blooming across the soft flesh. Every so often, he plunges two fingers into your now sopping heat, without warning. He removes them as quickly as he puts them in, causing you to whine in frustration. By the time you reach ten spanks, you’re babbling incoherently as you wiggle your hips in the air, clenching around nothing and desperate for anything to fill you up.

He flips you back over on your back and scoffs at your desperation. “Have you learned your lesson, whore?” It’s not a question - it’s a demand.

As much as you want to do or say whatever he wants so that he can fuck you already, it’s always more fun to see what happens when you piss him off. You jut out your lower lip in a pout and stare up at him defiantly. “No.”

Before you know it, you’re being flipped back onto your stomach. Another round of brutal spankings are delivered to your asscheeks, causing tears to prick your eyes as the burning pain sets in. You’re going to be sore for the next week.

“Leave it to a whore to be so mouthy,” he growls as he flips you over on your back again and thrusts two fingers into your cunt. “But you like this, don’t ya? You like pissin’ me off, because you like getting your pretty little ass spanked and you like being choked, whether it’s by my hand or on my cock. I should shut you up with my cock, since you wanna be so mouthy. Tell me, do ya like choking on cock, whore?”

“Yes, daddy,” you moan quite loudly. The combination of his degrading words and consistent thrusting of his fingers in and out of your pussy was sending you into a haze.

“Of course you fucking do,” he spits. “You told me so yourself when you were sitting all innocent in class. In fact, what else did ya tell me?” His thumb was now brushing vigorously against your clit during each thrust, causing your legs to shake violently. The whimpers falling from your lips grow louder as you focus on the buildup slowly forming in the pit of your stomach. However, your lack of response doesn’t impress him. He immediately pulls his fingers out and slaps your pussy, eliciting a jerk from your entire body and a drawn-out moan from the surprising sensation.

“Answer me, fuckdoll. Or you get nothing.” He literally shoves his fingers back in and continues his relentless thrusting, filling the room with the squelching sounds of your sloppy cunt. You scramble to remember the contents of the lewd texts you had sent him earlier that day, but your brain is so hazy from the orgasm you know is about to hit you, that you’re stumbling through your words.

“I-I said something about w-wanting to choke on your cock-” your sentence is cut off with a long moan as he applies direct pressure on your clit with his thumb.

“We established that already, dollface,” he scoffs. “What. Else.”

“I d-don’t remember,” you wail and thrash your head side to side against the pillow. Your release is so close, you can taste it. “Daddy, please let me cum - I’m going to cum!”

“Don’t remember? That’s a shame,” he remarks as he completely stops his actions and pulls his fingers out, yet again. You let out a scream of frustration at the fact that your orgasm was just cruelly ripped away from you. “Let’s see, maybe we need a refresher.” To your disbelief, he pulls out his phone and scrolls to the conversation from that morning. “Hmm, you told me to choke and spank you… Well, I’ve already done both of those, so what else?” His eyes narrow down at your quivering form and, to your relief, he puts his fingers back in you and continues thrusting. What was the last thing you told me, whore?”

“I-I told you to m-make me cum over and over a-again,” you gasp out as one final sharp thrust sends you completely over the edge. Before you know it, you’re screaming his name as you crash down from your high.

You moan in bliss as you feel the utter fucking release of the tension that had been building up inside you all day long. However, you barely have time to relax before you realize Atsumu’s still going at it in your now sensitive pussy.

“Tsumu,” you gasp as you feel your body jerking in response to the oversensitivity. “It’s s-so much… I-I c-can’t-”

The motherfucker literally laughs as he watches your face contort from the sheer overwhelming pleasure. “What? You asked for it. You’re droolin’ already and all I’ve given you are my fingers.” His jeering words ignite the fire building up for the second time as tears stream down your face from the overstimulation. “You tellin’ me you want me to stop?” He stuffs a third finger inside, stretching you even further and eliciting even more delicious cries from your lips. It felt like his fingers were thrusting even harder and faster, if that was possible.

“N-no, keep g-going,” you wail before you’re hit with your second orgasm of the night. All that you’re able to get out is a blubbering combination of “daddy” and “Tsumu” as your vision goes white and you hear the roaring of your own blood in your ears.

Atsumu finally slides his fingers out of your drenched pussy, eyes fixating on the string from your fluids attached to them. He takes advantage of your still panting mouth to stuff his fingers in between your lips. “You know what to do.” His eyes darken as he watches you desperately suck on his fingers, tasting your own essence on them. After he feels that you’ve effectively done a thorough job of cleaning them off for him, he smirks and pulls them out before leaning down so that he’s hovering above you.

“Good girl. Open wide for your reward.” Once you comply, he works up a good amount of saliva and lets it fall in your mouth, directly on your tongue. You moan as you relish the taste of his spit and swallow it all. “Thank you daddy,” you beam up at him.

He draws himself back in satisfaction as he pulls his sweatpants off, freeing his rock hard length and letting it slap against his abdomen. As spent as you are from your previous orgasms, there’s nothing you’re craving more than for him to be balls deep in your tight pussy. He just remains where he is, stroking himself as he watches you grow impatient for him to do something already.

 “Tsumu,” you plead in the calmest tone you can muster. “Please fuck me already.”

He merely continues to pump his cock, much to your dismay. “How much do you want my big cock, whore?” Again, it isn’t a question.

“I want it more than anything in the whole wide world,” you beg. Each stroke to his cock only serves to increase your frustration.

“Prove it.”

You let out a groan and proceed to rub your tits, squeezing them together and rolling your nipples in between your fingers. In your attempt to please him, you notice the way Atsumu slightly picks up the pace of his strokes as he watches you play with your tits.

But it still isn’t enough for him.

“You can do better than that.”

Fucking hell. You let go of your breasts and spread your legs, hooking your hands behind your knees so that he has a perfect view of your pretty, spoiled pussy. Your cheeks burn as you bring your hand down to spread your lips, offering him access to your slick hole. “C’mon, Tsumuuuuu… I’m all good and ready for you.”

Atsumu swallows thickly and finally relents. He grabs your thighs and holds them open as he positions himself at your entrance and pushes into you. You’re so wet from your previous orgasms that he slides in easily, burying himself to the brim as he loses himself in the feeling of being fully sheathed inside you and lets out a long moan. It feels like your pussy is literally swallowing him up as he bottoms out. Your eyes roll back as you feel yourself being deliciously, oh so wonderfully, stretched. His fingers were heavenly on their own, but nothing in the world could compare to the feeling of his thick cock hitting all the right spots in you.

“Fuck, yeahhh. You’re so tight, fuck. How are ya so tight?” Atsumu’s breathing is heavy as he squeezes his eyes shut, relishing the sensation of your walls clenching around him. He starts thrusting slowly, checking your face for any signs of discomfort. However, you grow impatient and start wiggling your hips, urging him to go faster. He scoffs and slaps your breast in response. “Be patient, dollface. You’ll take what I give ya.” You whimper, but cease your actions. Atsumu must have apparently decided that was enough for him as well, because he picks up his speed. 

His hips slap against you from the brutal way he fucks you into oblivion. His strokes are deep and hard, causing you to turn into a sobbing mess. The room is filled with the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass and your cries begging him to not stop and go even harder. The way he pounds into you has your entire body rocking back and forth as you moan at the feeling of his pelvis meeting you with each movement. 

“M-more, daddy!” Drool is seeping out of the corners of your open mouth and your eyes are glazed over from the sheer feeling of him being balls deep in you.

“You love being fucked like this, don’t ya?” Atsumu’s grunts fill your ears and you clench even tighter at his words. “An’ it’s never enough for you. Insatiable whore.” He delivers a particularly sharp thrust at the word “whore” which makes you blubber nonsensically. You want to tell him that you’re his insatiable whore, but your words are jumbling together as all your senses are devoted to the way his cock is slamming in and out of your cunt.

At this rate, you’re about to cum again in no time. Atsumu picks up on this and makes you wrap your legs around him so he can pound into you even deeper from this new angle. The tip of his dick now hits your g spot with each brutal thrust, making you literally scream in delirium. He’s more than pleased at your response, which is why he suddenly halts his movements and tilts his head at you in the cockiest manner. You want to scream and swear at him in every language possible, but you’re in such disbelief that all you can muster is the dirtiest glare at him. He laughs at the way your hips involuntarily move around him.

“Look at ya, you’re so fuckin’ cockhungry. I’m not even doing anything and your pussy’s tryna suck me in.” Before you can protest, he suddenly pulls out so that just the tip of his dick is inside you and slams back in with no warning. He’s back to thrusting into you, hitting your g spot with immense force. 

Before you know it, the knot that had been forming in your stomach completely snaps. His eyes train on the way your tongue lolls out of your mouth and your eyes cross together as your mind goes completely blank when you cum yet again. Your pussy clenches around him, causing him to swear profusely, and your fluids gush out involuntarily. Your cheeks are flushed and your chest is covered in the sheen from your sweat. He lets go of your thighs and leans over to meet your lips with his, never stopping the steady rhythm of his thrusts. You pant into his mouth as the sound of your heartbeat pounds in your ears and the cool metal of his chain dangles against your skin. 

“C’mon, make that face again for me.” Atsumu begins to rub your clit harshly, eliciting a high-pitched mewl from you as your entire body shudders.

“I-I-I…” Your teeth are clenched and your eyes are squeezed shut as pressure fills your head from the overwhelming sensation spreading throughout your body. It’s all too much, and you’re not sure you can cum again.

“Give it to me one more time, pretty girl. I know you can do it, I gotcha.” Atsumu starts sucking on the sweet spot behind your ear and continues to fuck you with the vigor of a possessed man. The bedframe shakes uncontrollably from the way he pummels into you. His thumb rubbing furiously at your clit sends shock waves of pleasure throughout your overly sensitive body and before you know it, the familiar pressure is building up in your stomach again. 

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my go-,” you chant as your eyes roll back in your head and you scream out his name while your vision goes completely white. Atsumu groans at the feeling of your tight walls milking his cock for everything he has. Your whole body is shaking, and you’re so wracked with pleasure that you can scarcely process the way his thrusts grow sloppy as he gets closer and closer to his own release.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” His groans fill the room as he erratically pummels into you to chase his high. 

“Cum inside me, daddy. Want you to fill me all the way up.” Your words are slurring together at this point due to the heady arousal clouding your mind, but they’re enough to tip Atsumu over the edge. He lets out a moan and his hips stutter to a stop as you’re overcome with the feeling of his cock twitching inside you and suddenly filling you to the brim with his cum.

Atsumu collapses on top of you and pants heavily in an attempt to catch his breath. The two of you are silent for a good few minutes before he gathers whatever strength is left in him to pull out of you. He remains somewhat on top of your utterly spent body and peppers kisses all over your face. “You good?”

“Never better,” you reach a hand up to stroke his hair, and he hums contentedly in response before rolling over to your side. He throws an arm over you, hugging you to his body and just stares at you lovingly.

“I wasn’t too rough on ya, was I?” His hand reaches down to your ass to rub soothingly at the marks left by him.  

“You were perfect, babe.” You grab his hand, intertwining your fingers with his own. “I’m sleeping good tonight, thanks to you.” He smiles at this and positions himself so that his head is tucked in the crook of your neck. He closes his eyes for a while as he savors the feeling of you stroking his hair and planting kisses on the top of his head.

“Babe?”

“Hm?”

“Ya wanna order food?” His eyes are still shut and you chuckle. “Yeah.”

“Who’s callin’?” He snuggles a bit further into you.

“Not it.” His eyes open and he looks up at you before literally pouting. You can’t believe this is the same man you were calling “daddy” just a few minutes ago.

“Why do I hafta do it,” he grumbles.

“Sorry that my phone’s out there and yours is literally at your feet because you wanted to be theatrical and ‘teach me a lesson.’” You smile as he continues to grumble under his breath, but pushes himself up to grab his phone and dial the number of your favorite takeout place. “Love youuuuuu,” you sing-song and flash a toothy grin at him.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I love ya too.” He rolls his eyes and lies back down next to you as he speaks to the worker on the phone. The entire time he absentmindedly plays with your hands as you sigh contentedly and bask in the feeling of being with him.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

masterlist ｡･:*:･ﾟ rules

[havin-a-wee]

hey! I am obsessed with ur writing and I was wondering if you could pretty please do an imagine where you are best friends with Harry and you are REALLY horny and are cuddling with him and you get wet n stuff through your panties and he notices and offers to help? thank you SO MUCH ily🥰

Postitions

warnings: oral (female receiving)

word count: 2.5k

hi! sorry this took so long but i’m rlly proud of how it came out so i hope you like it !

“Harry get in here!” 

Your best friend popped his head in the door to your bedroom with a shit-eating grin on his face. 

“What are you smiling about?” Harry only ever made that kind of face when he was up to something, and you weren’t in the mood to deal with one of his ‘surprises’ tonight. 

Instead of answering your question, he just stepped fully in the door, his hand gripped a tub of ice cream in your favorite flavor. You shot up from laying down and returned his dopey smile, your body filled with excitement. 

“I forgot I had brought this in the car.” he shrugged his shoulders with the ice cream still in his palm as he made his way to the bed. 

“Did yo-” Before you could finish your sentence, he held up two silver spoons with his other hand and you grabbed onto one of them quickly, eager to dig into your favorite treat. You pull open the plastic surrounding the cap with a satisfying zip and within a few moments your mouth has enveloped your spoon and the ice cream is melting in your mouth.

The two of you sit on the bed and eat the ice cream quietly for a minute, but once you have savored those first few spoonfuls you speak up. “So what movie are we watching?”

“I was thinking Call Me By Your Name because you said yesterday that you haven’t seen it yet,” Harry responds. You nod with the spoon sticking out of your mouth which made Harry giggle. He turns his attention to your nightstand and he grabs the small black remote and points it towards the large tv that is mounted on your wall. 

He clicks around a bit until he gets to Hulu, and from there he searches up the movie. Without saying a word, you both subconsciously shift into your favorite movie-watching position, which is when you lie down and Harry places his head between your thighs.

Yes, it is a more couple-y type of position, but it’s comfortable for both of you, and it allows for a good view of the tv. 

The first half of the movie went smoothly, and you found yourself quite invested in the story that was playing out on the screen. It was a cute love story between guys, but it had a bit of angstiness that kept you on your toes.

It was a little over halfway through when the scene arrived. At first there was a hand grabbing a peach off of a tree, which was a bit odd and out of place. But the pieces came together when the camera panned to Elio laying on his bed, and then to his hands creating a crater within the peach.

Now usually when a steamy scene began in the movies you watched with Harry, you contained yourself and we able to watch it without getting turned on. But there was something about the sensuality of the scene that sent a tingling down your spine and straight to your core.

It wasn’t until now that your brain registered that Harry’s head was placed right on the place that was currently warming up with your arousal. 

Even when the scene was over, you could feel your panties getting wetter and wetter. You were frozen in place, petrified due to the fact that Harry might be able to feel the difference in temperature. But your worries about Harry transferred to the aroused part of your brain, and you couldn’t help but to imagine him in the same scene that got you so worked up.

Even though he was your best friend, you still found him incredibly attractive. I mean, how could you not? But you realized about a year ago that it didn’t stop at simple attraction. You love Harry, as more than a friend, and that’s what makes this whole thing all the scarier.

You continued watching the movie but after a few more minutes your clit began to throb. It was at this point that you began debating going to the bathroom in your head, but you knew that there was no way you could be that quick. So, you made the tough decision to stick it out and pray that Harry doesn’t move his head.

Your prayers were not answered.

Your focus had been completely diverted from the movie and you were staring at a spot on the wall in a feeble attempt to distract yourself. But it was then that Harry adjusted his head from where it was laying between your legs. 

Almost as if on purpose, the back of his head pressed against your swollen button when he shifted, and despite your best efforts, a soft moan escaped your throat. 

You squeezed your eyes shut right after it happened, holding onto the small hope that he didn’t hear it. But when the weight of his head disappeared from where it was placed you knew that he did hear it. You opened your eyes slowly, to see him looking at you with a sly grin on his face. He had turned around fully to face you and was sitting on his knees, kind of like he was excited or anticipating something.

Before you could speak, he opened his lips that were still holding a bright grin and spoke.

“You okay?” You knew that he knew, and he was just testing the waters to see what reaction would make you the most comfortable. That was one of the many things you love about him, he always makes sure your comfortable.

“I’m really sorry I just-” Once again, he cut you off.

“S’fine Y/N, I’m the one who should be saying sorry.” His grin faded to a sympathetic smile as you lifted your head to meet your eyes with his. The two of you sat there in silence for a few seconds, before he spoke up again.

“Do you want some help?” You eyes shot up from where you were staring and you looked at him with wide eyes. His eyes went wide too and you could tell that he was scared of your reaction. “I-I mean only if you want to, if you don’t I can just lea-”

This time it was you who cut him off. “Harry..” Your voice was quiet, and you sighed his name, but it wasn’t in negative way. 

You placed your hands in front of you and pushed yourself up so your face was inches away from his. “Will you kiss me?” 

He nodded furiously and then his lips met yours. He tasted just like you had imagined, sweet and the best thing you had ever tasted. His tongue slipped into your mouth and you welcomed it openly and your lips mashed together sloppily. You mewled into his mouth as you felt his soft lips suck on yours. The kiss was filled with passion and excitement, and you could tell that you weren’t the only one who had been waiting for this for a long, long time.

He pushed you back while continuing to kiss you, laying you flat on the bed as he placed his body atop yours, propped up by his toned arms. He took the opportunity to begin sucking on your jaw, moving down to your neck. He sucked at bit vigorously at your soft skin and you moaned once again, but this time harder and with more neediness. 

Instinctively, your hands made their way down to his belt buckle, but his hand grabbed yours to stop you. Much to your dismay, he stopped his assault on your neck and looked into your eyes.

“None of that, m’takin care of you.” 

You bit your lip and nodded at his words. You had always found his voice sexy and hearing him say that to you caused you to squeeze your legs to try and get some kind of friction. 

He pecked your lips once more before averting his attention to the hem of your pajama top. He looked up at you for approval and you nodded, lifting up your arms as he peeled the garment away from your aching body. 

You weren’t wearing a bra, which Harry clearly had zero problems with, his head diving down as he took one of your nipples in his mouth, the other one tracing down your stomach. You jolted at the sudden sensation, your body quivering under his touch. 

He detached from your breast and worked at your bottoms, pulling off the flimsy shorts that covered the place that he really wanted to see. He latched two fingers onto the hem of your panties and looked up at you. You nodded once again, but he didn’t pull your panties down.

“Need to here y’say it Y/N. Need to hear y’tell me what y’want me to do to you”

“Please Harry,” you gasped. “Please take my panties off.”

Once again, he did not, but instead smirked at you as he watched you wriggle underneath him.

“What d’ya want me t’do when I take em off pet? Y’want my mouth on you? Y’want me to lick your pretty little cunt til’ you’re begging me to stop?”

“Yes, yes please!” He chuckled lightly before pulling your panties off in one quick motion. Instead of going right to what he desired, he began by sponging kisses from your collarbone down to your stomach until his head was placed right above your core. He took a second to admire your glistening heat and you watched his eyes filled with lust.

He lowered his head and placed his big hands on your thighs, lifting them up and over his shoulder so he has the best angle possible. All of a sudden you felt his tongue licking a stripe over your core. He then made small swipes at your throbbing clit, making you buck up onto his tounge. He moaned against you and you could feel the vibration against your core as he made work on your clit.

He sucked and bit on the sensitive nub, and you were putty in his hands. His mouth was magic, and you were falling apart under his touch. All of the pent-up sexual frustration he had caused you over the years melted away and all that you were thinking about was how good he was making you feel.

“Harry..fuck-oh my god” You stumbled on your words as your mind could only focus on the man who had his head between your legs. You felt him groan again you again and you shuddered at the feeling. The fact that he was enjoying this just as much as you was turning you on even more; if that was possible. 

You snaked your hands through the messy curls atop his head. He sucked harshly on your clit and you gripped onto his hair with such force that you were scared you were hurting him, but the moan he responded with calmed your nerves.

The sight of his head between your legs as he pleasured you was something you would never forget, and you also hoped that this wouldn’t be the last time you would get to see it. His tongue moved down to your folds and he began licking inside of you. You rolled your hips against his face while he licked your most sensitive area, and you could feel his hot breath hitting you clit which intensified the pleasure.

“So, so good” 

You could feel his lips curl into a smile against you as he buried himself in you. You maintained the tight grip on his curls, pulling harshly when did something that made you feel extra good.

His mouth moved back to your clit and he continued what he had been doing before, sucking and biting at it like he hadn’t eaten in a week. Your shouts of his name only encouraged him, making him go harder and faster every time. 

The knot in your stomach was tight, and it was a feeling that you knew, but hadn’t felt in quite a while. “Harry- I’m gonna-” you whispered shakily.

He pulled his mouth an inch away from your sopping cunt and mumbled hungrily. “C’mon baby, come on my tounge. I wanna taste you.” He dove back in and his tongue swiped across your walls. 

The pad of his thumb found its way to your aching clit and he rubbed it in quick circles while his tongue dipped inside of you once again.

The knot in your stomach burst and you arched your back as you reached your climax on Harry’s mouth. You saw star as he worked you down from your high, slowing his movements but not stopping. As soon as he removed his mouth from you your knees buckled and you collapsed on the bed, breathing heavily and trying to process what just happened.

You heard him laugh and you watched him slip your thighs off of his shoulders and come lay next to you. You rolled onto your side so you could face him, looking at his face for the first time since he found a place between your thighs.

His lips were glistening from your juices, and he smiled at you while he licked them up from around his mouth. The two of you lay on your sides staring at each other for a bit, but then it hit you.

“Wait Harry, I didn’t take care of you”

“S’fine love, I just wanted to make you feel good.”

It was almost bittersweet because you knew that he had to like you back in some regard, but you didn’t know if it was only sexual, or he wanted a romantic relationship like you did. 

You sat up, lost in your own thoughts in anxieties. He sat up quickly as well, and his face was riddled with concern.

“What’s wrong?” You could hear the fear in his voice, but you were scared because you couldn’t figure out why he was scared. 

“I just- what does this mean?”

Harry sighed and looked down at his lap, then looked back up at you. “I really like you Y/N. Like more than a friend. And I d’nknow if you feel the same, but judging by what y’just let me do, I think the feeling is mutual.” He smiled at the end, and you smiled right back.

“The feeling is mutual.” That was all you said before you leaned into him and kissed him again. This kiss was softer, more loving and affectionate than the kiss you had previously shared. He placed you on his lap, but it wasn’t sexual in nature. It was more of a ‘you’re all mine’ kind of gesture. 

He broke the kiss and the two of you looked down at each other with your smiles still bright and full. “Y’know I moved my head on purpose. I could feel you heated up.” His cheery smiled had turned into a cheeky grin as a blush color spread across your cheeks. You playfully slapped him in the shoulder and you both burst out into laughter. As your laughter subsided you leaned into his ear and whispered.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

[angelguk]

if youre still thinking angst for jock jk: much like real life jungkook, jock jk i feel like wants to be good — at everything. and he really is great at everything! so when he isnt great, he takes it very personally and i wouldnt be surprised if this spills into his relationship. wanting to do things “perfectly” in their relationship but forgetting that jock jk! oc should be involved in the decision making of what is “perfect”

alternatively: olivia rodrigo deja vu but jungkook is olivia thinking about oc and namjoon

this is very much a valid angst prompt ur brain is amazing anon im giving u a kiss rn......... ummm lemme write sumn small for dis :3

featuring: oc being oblivious, jeongguk just wanting to be the best boypwen, namjoon being observant and unspoken insecurities

Jeongguk doesn't usually shrink into himself like this. He abhors it, knows it's not him at all. And yet, he can't help his behaviour, knee bouncing harshly against the bricked pavements as he waits for you to leave your chemistry lab. There's a dainty silver bracelet sitting in his pocket, his head resting in hands as the autumn sun beats down on his back. You don't know it yet but he's got a pretty date planned: a late lunch at your favourite restaurant, an evening walk in the park at the centre of town, maybe some arcade games or a movie if you feel like it, and then a drive down to the hillside where you can watch the sun slip beyond the horizon and Jeongguk can gift you the bracelet and the cute bunny teddy he picked out last night.

It's not for any reason in particular, Jeongguk just wants you to know how much he cares (loves) you. Adoration is what drives his actions, his head springing up when the doors finally swing open and your fellow students spill forth into the afternoon breeze.

You're always one of the last people to leave because you liked buttering up your professors with casual conversations and sweet compliments, so Jeongguk isn't too bothered when everyone disperses and you're still not visible. It's not like you knew he was here away – he did tell you he was stuck in practise all afternoon.

When you do appear, the tiny welcoming smile that was sitting on his lips plummets to the floor.

You're gazing up at a familiar face, eyes sparkling as the sun hits them, your features bright and eager. His eyes eventually shift to the person ambling beside you, taking his towering stature and confident stride, a sickening feeling spreading through his system when he recognises who it is.

Kim Namjoon.

Of all sights to see, Jeongguk would rather have his eyes plucked out by birds that see you around Namjoon again. Especially after what he said to him.

You're giggling, completely unaware of the violent twisting of Jeongguk's heart in his ribs and the words he'd planned to say dissolving on his tongue. You don't even notice him at first, Namjoon's eyes are the ones that stray away, idling over the campus scenery until the settle on Jeongguk.

He wants to smash something, fingernails digging into his palm as his fist curls. Namjoon just grins, waving him down like they're old friends. "Jeongguk!"

You follow then, surprise bleeding over your pretty face. Jeongguk doesn't know why it hurts.

"Gukkie?" A question. He notes how you lean into Namjoon as you draw close, like he's your boyfriend.

"Hey." It's said so quietly that Jeongguk considers smacking himself in the face. A tight cough follows the meek word, clearing his throat from the heaviness that plagues it. "How was class?"

"Good," you return, still confused. "I thought you had practise?"

"Coach let us out early," he lies, smiling hard so you don't see through it.You make a non-committal noise, vaguely appeasing the turmoil in his head. "Namjoon," he adds, finally acknowledging the asshole. "Didn't expect to see you here."

"Ah," he sighs, a sheepish grin spreading across his lips. "I got an internship here; Professor Song was kind enough to give me an assistant position. I'm considering applying for master's here too."

"Oh," he doesn't even try to mask his irritation. "That's nice."

But you don't hear it, nodding like an enamoured puppy. "Right? It'll be nice having you around again!"

"It feels good to be here," Namjoon returns. "Don't know why I didn’t apply to this university, to be honest."

Jeongguk knows. It was because this was your dream university and Namjoon didn't want to do his undergraduate with you trailing around like a lingering stench, especially right after your break-up. But now, apparently, he's totally fine with it.

"Hmm, yeah. It's a great university," Jeongguk states, disinterested. He turns to you with a tired smile. "I actually came to pick you up for lunch, you haven't eaten yet have you?"

"I actually did before class," you say, lips forming an apologetic pout. "Can we reschedule for dinner? I wanna show Namjoon around first."

Oh. The weight of his heart sinks him into the ground, earth eagerly swallowing him up as his head splits. So Namjoon gets first priority. Kim Namjoon, over him. Over your boyfriend.

"Yeah, yeah," Jeongguk shrugs. "That's fine. We can reschedule. Text me when you're done, okay?"

He doesn't miss the way Namjoon's gaze lingers on him as he turns away, waving you a quick goodbye. You didn't even give him a hug, stationed beside Namjoon like you watched to attach his limbs to yours. It's unsettling, how swift you loyalty glides away from Jeongguk. He hates how annoyed it makes him because he knows you don't do it purposely. But still, shouldn't he come first?

It's that thought that sends him spiralling, sitting alone in the heat of his car as the bracelet in his pocket grows heavy. Where you like this with Namjoon? Did you put him first? He thinks you did – you cancelled on him so many times in the course of that relationship. Did Namjoon take you to similar places? Did the two of you have moments you never shared with him? That one hurts the most, because even to this day Jeongguk has never shared the titbit of information Namjoon granted him. What did Namjoon give you that you never see in Jeongguk? Even with the title of 'together' hanging over your heads he doesn't feel secure enough – good enough for you. It's what leaves him on edge, overthinking each moment and word and touch shared between the two of you. Because it took you both so long to get here, what did you see in those other guys that you never saw in Jeongguk at first? He longs to be only one you remember, wipe away any lasting memory of any of the others, until it was only him.

But that feels impossible, further sparked in moments like this when you pick them over him. He'll always be the second option, the sideline safety. But never the first choice.

[let-them-read-fics]

Too Late To Apologize?

Requested By @rosiesandlilies​: “I was wondering if I can request a Rosé x female reader story where Rosie is an idol who also happens to be ur wife and since she and BP are taking over the world by storm, she starts to forget about you and whenever u ask her to spend a little bit of time with you, she gets upset and fights with you. You’re also an important person but you always make time for her. Can it be angsty with fluff 🥰”

Pairing: Rosé x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~ 6,026

Warnings / Misc: -- Angst, Self Doubt, Strained Marriage / Relationship, Crying, Some Swearing, Fluff

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Oooooo lord, here we go. I am feeding 👏 you 👏 all 👏 today! This one took a while to write, but I’m pretty happy with it. I wrote it all in one go, starting at like 3am (as usual lol), so forgive me if it’s a little rough. I put a lot of effort into it, though, so I hope you guys enjoy. Thank you for requesting -- Happy reading!

PS ~ I highly recommend that you listen to these songs as you read this:

You Were Good To Me -- Jeremy Zucker & Chelsea Cutler

Surrender -- Natalie Taylor

The Night We Met -- Lord Huron

I Found -- Amber Run

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Hongdae, Seoul  --  8:00 PM

“Good evening, everyone! Before I open the doors, I’d like to thank each and every one of you for taking the time out of your day to stop in. We couldn’t have done this without your support, and we’re endlessly grateful. We hope you have a wonderful experience with us tonight. Now, without further ado, welcome to La Rêverie!”

To your amusement, the sizable crowd erupts into a fit of cheers once your opening speech is over. Echoes of the joyous sounds carry across the city, wiggling their way through the alleys and streets, bouncing off of the nearby buildings. The customers slowly filter in, greeting and congratulating you on their way; you’re beyond excited to start this new journey, and seeing people so happy to be a part of it only makes you more proud.

Eventually everyone makes it inside to their seats, and you join them.

--- Later That Evening ---

“Y/N, we have a private party that would like to see you. They’re eager to meet the woman behind all of this,” Pierre smirks, quirking an eyebrow suggestively. His demeanor confuses you slightly, seeing as how this isn’t the first time high profile celebrities have requested your presence -- that’s just one of the perks of being a world renowned chef. You brush off his remark as playful banter and send him to tell them that you’ll be out soon. 

---

“...yes, actually. Y/N and I were fortunate enough to meet when she was studying in Paris; we were being trained by the same chef. We’ve been close ever since. I’m not surprised that she hired me, though; I’m practically a master in the kitchen.”

At Pierre’s cocky words, your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head. A small grin plays on your lips nonetheless, and you smooth out your top one more time before rounding the corner. 

“What’s this idiot on about now? Did he tell you about the time that he nearly got kicked out of our mentorship program for giving Anthony Bourdain the wrong dish?” You ask the table, sending them a glance while ruffling his hair as you come up behind him. They all snicker at that, and it’s his turn to roll his eyes; with an annoyed shove, he scolds you for bringing that story up again.

“Must you always tell people about that?”

Your smile widens, spreading cutely across your face. Mocking him is one of your favorite things to do. “Mhm,” you say simply, nodding your head for emphasis. He attempts to hide his embarrassment, but it only brings a deeper blush to his cheeks. 

At the VIP table, the suppressed sound of laughter carries over to you, and you’re reminded of your reason for being here in the first place. Upon offering your full attention to the table now, no longer distracted by Pierre, you’re met with 4 different pairs of eyes on you. Warm, yellow light illuminates the area, the classy overhead fixture emitting a soft glow to cast down on the guests beautifully. It’s cozy and inviting, just like you had intended it to be, and the sight makes you happy.

As you quickly scan over each of the girls, your brain pieces together where you know them from.

“My oh my, it’s Blackpink themselves. To what do I owe this honor?” All of the natural charisma that you possess takes over now, doing its best to override your nerves. It’s definitely not the time to fangirl over them; you have to act cool. One by one, you shake their hands, making sure to give each of them a glimpse of your award winning smile. 

Jennie is the first to speak up. “Yourself, of course. You’re the talk of the town, Y/N, how could we miss this?” The way that she says it so casually, already skipping past the formalities, puts you at ease. 

“Ah, you’re too kind. Was your food prepared to your liking?”

A chorus of approving noises leaves the table, successfully boosting your confidence in the process. “It was truly incredible, Y/N.” Rosé gushes, her adorable accent adding something magical to the simple phrase. For the first time tonight, your mind goes blank; ever since news broke of your plans for this new restaurant, you practiced to avoid this very thing. As you stand there floundering for a beat, she takes notice of the effect that her words have on you; it doesn’t take long for her to realize how much she loves to make you blush.

“Thank you so much. We’re so glad to have you here tonight.” 

“We’re happy to be here! Rosé hasn’t stopped talking about it for the past week.” The Australian’s eyes go wide as Lisa exposes her, and she shoots the younger girl a shocked look. Lisa only smirks at this, her shoulders rising and falling in a nonchalant shrug. Jisoo nods in confirmation, adding, “Yeah, she’s been super pumped.”

On the inside, you’re freaking out. Rosé was that excited to try out your creations? There’s no logical explanation for that one. Your own surprise is evident in your voice as you respond, “Oh really now? And why’s that?”

“I-I’ve just heard a lot of great things, you know? You’re pretty talented.” She tries to sound confident, but the stutter in her voice betrays her. The tips of her ears are burning with embarrassment, and after sending her yet another smile, you decide to spare her by changing the topic. 

“Well thank you, again. It’s truly a privilege to cook for you girls.” The conversation continues from there, effortlessly moving from subject to subject, and you love how welcome they make you feel. Occasionally you excuse yourself to check on the other guests and ensure that they’re enjoying their dinner, and every time, Rosé finds herself sorely missing your presence. Despite only officially meeting tonight, she feels like she’s known you her whole life. The two of you clicked instantly, and she can’t seem to get enough of you.

After spending the better part of 2 hours chatting and getting to know one another better, you grow bold and ask the question that’s been rolling around in your head all night. 

“Would you guys like to come back to the kitchen for a bit? I could give you some tips and we could make a couple dishes, if you want.”

Rosé nearly interrupts you from how eager she is to accept the offer. The second that you’re done asking, she’s already saying yes. The others happily agree as well, and soon you’re leading them to the back to get prepped.

_________

“Just like this, everyone. Cut thinly here,” you inform, using your knife to point to the areas in question, “...then turn it and follow through with the slices. It should come out diced, like so.” The girls observed your swift motions, peeking over at the small cubes once you’re finished. Things continue on like this for a while, and soon you’re halfway done with the veggies while they’re barely done with the first part of their batches.

“Slow down, Y/N! You’re too fast for us grandmas.” Jisoo jests, her voice bouncy with amusement. 

“Okay, okay! I’ll wait, just let me know if you need help.” Your knife comes to rest against the cutting board, and you take the opportunity to lean back against the countertop to watch them work. Your eyes trail over to Rosé, only to find her already looking at you; she tenses once she realizes she’s been caught, and she returns to her previous duties. You decide to tease her.

“Everything alright, Rosé? You seem a little distracted…” She momentarily shuts her eyes at your words, trying to refocus her thoughts and collect herself. A subtle snicker from Lisa can be heard, and Rosé delivers a quick jab to her arm. The maknae lets out a little “oww” before setting her things down to rub away the newfound soreness of her arm. 

A little later, Jennie requests some assistance, prompting you to make your way over to her. The station that she’s working at just so happens to be next to Rosé’s, and you’d be lying if you said that didn’t thrill you. 

“Do we peel this first or leave it on?” 

“Cut the ends first, then slice it in half and remove the outer layer.”

Under your watchful eye, she follows your instructions and is soon back on track. She thanks you, and you bring your hand up to give her a pat on the back. Although she feels childish for it, the action works to make Rosé the tiniest bit jealous; she wants your attention on her. 

The blonde clears her throat before speaking up. “Y/N, I need a little help, too.” Your heart jumps at her words, and you fight hard to keep yourself in check as you spin around to face her.

“Of course, Rosé.” She sighs at the way her name rolls off your tongue, and she’s completely convinced that you’ve secretly put her under some type of spell. Her thoughts of you and your mysterious ways are interrupted when you come to stand next to her, your hip lightly brushing against hers. 

“Oh, well there’s your problem: you’re holding the knife wrong. Here,” you start, reaching out to reposition her hand in a better spot. Now she’ll be able to control it better, and she won’t run the risk of cutting herself.

“Better?” You ask innocently, missing the way that she bites her lip. The close proximity of your bodies is making her head spin, and she can’t decide if she wants you to stay or go. “Yes, thank you.” She looks like she wants to say something else, but she doesn’t, so you take that as your cue to go check on the other girls. Rosé silently curses herself for missing that golden opportunity to flirt with you, but she takes solace in the fact that she catches you stealing glances her way fairly often. You feel the connection too, and she’s pleased with that -- maybe she was doing something right after all.

The next stint of the night is spent preparing and cooking the dishes you promised them while trading jokes, banter, and teasing remarks. A mini food fight also took place, but for the sake of professionalism you won’t mention that. You couldn’t have asked for a more perfect day.

---- 

“Goodnight girls. I hope you come by again sometime soon!” 

They all assure you that they’ll be back before you know it, and you believe them. After all, they gobbled those dishes down like they hadn’t eaten in days -- it’s safe to say that they enjoyed them.

Rosé lingers in the doorway, eyeing you as you work to clean off the counter. She doesn’t want to go; she’s loved getting to hang out with you. Contemplating her options, she decides to be brave; she tells the girls to go on ahead, that she’ll be there in a minute. 

“Rosé, did you forget something?” You ask, looking up at her as you reach forward to wipe any remaining debris off the sleek surface.

“Yeah, your number.” Somehow, she possesses all the confidence in the world now, her new demeanor completely opposite to its previously shy counterpart. 

You tilt your head at her, a dumbfounded smile parting your lips ever so slightly. “Bold, are we? Alright, I’ll bite.” You say, holding a hand out for her to give you her phone. Her eyes widen a bit -- was she not expecting you to say yes? There’s no way you could turn down a chance like this. She fumbles around in her bag until the smooth screen of her phone comes into contact with her fingers, letting her know she’s found it.

“Here you go,” she chuckles cutely, an adorable little pattern of blush rising to her cheeks again. 

After entering your number, making sure to save the contact and even take a goofy picture of yourself for it, you give it back to her. “Call me anytime, love.” Her smile spreads even farther at the pet name, and she ducks her head to hide her reddening cheeks.

As she slowly approaches the door, walking backwards, she says, “I will… love,” offering you a little awkward salute at the end of it. You giggle at her antics, and soon bid her goodnight. 

No more than 5 minutes later, your phone dings as it displays a notification from an unknown number. 

“I’m usually not that awkward 🤦‍♀️ pretty girls just make me nervous.” The message makes your heart flutter, and you quickly save her number to your contacts. 

“Really? We have yet another thing in common, then.” 

The girls watch as Rosé does a little victory dance in her seat, her movements a bit limited by the belt stretched across her body. She’s practically glowing with excitement, her fingers already firing off another reply.

________

3 Years Later -- Rome, Italy

Upon seeing Rosé saunter down the aisle, your emotions get the jump on you; before you can stop them, tears flow freely down your face, and you bring a hand up to your mouth to quiet yourself. She looks bruisingly beautiful: the natural curves of her body are accentuated by the silky material of her dress, and her shoulders are covered in lace. An angel cast down from the heavens above. 

She smiles at the audience that’s filled with your close friends and family, offering little greetings as she passes them. Once she and her father make it to the altar, he pulls you in for a big hug, a few tears escaping his eyes. After he takes a step back, he looks between the two of you with pure pride on his face, his hand resting on your shoulder. 

The song ends, signalling for the two of you to join hands and face each other, and he returns to his seat. 

“We’re gathered here today to celebrate the joyous union of Y/N L/N and Roseanne Park. Two souls destined to find their way to one another, travelling millions of miles in the process. We come together to revel in this fact and send them into their new life together with all of our support.” The officiator says into the microphone, smiling at the two of you. You can tell he loves his job, and he’s damn good at it. 

Rosé’s grip on your hand tightens as she tries to contain her tears, but you’re quick to assure her that it’s alright. “You can cry, baby.” At your words, her lip is released from between her teeth, and her tears begin to flow. You wipe them away, stepping closer to rest your forehead against hers. 

The ceremony continues on and the two of you recite the personal vows you wrote. Somehow, unbeknownst to you, there doesn’t seem to be a limit to how much you can cry in one sitting. Rosé is having the same problem, seeing as how her makeup is smudging some as the tears wash the substances away. You don’t care though, and you make it a point to remind her of that; she’s never looked more beautiful to you.

“I do.” You choke out, beaming at her as you run your thumb across her knuckles.

“I do.” She responds, impatiently bouncing on the balls of her feet as she waits for those final words from the officiator. 

“You may now kiss the bride.” 

Her lips are on yours before he even finishes the phrase, her hand resting on the back of your neck as she pulls you in closer. Your lips move with hers in perfect time, working to seal your union in the best way possible. “I love you, forever,” she whispers against your lips. 

____

Present Day, 1:17 AM

In order to spare you from the overwhelming sadness that you’re being subjected to now, your brain takes you back to those happy times from the past. When Rosé still made time for you; when she loved you. 

Even though you hate it, you still find her in everything. The bright sunshine of the early morning reminds you of all the times she would wake you up with kisses, holding you close. The songbirds outside of your window bring to mind when you’d come home to find her at the piano, alternating between striking the keys and strumming her guitar as her beautiful voice carried out across the house. 

You miss that Rosé, so, so much. The Rosé that would call you in between sessions at the studio, if only for 5 minutes. The Rosé that longed to hear your voice after a long day; who fell into your arms the second that she shuffled through the door after practice. 

As time has passed, though, she’s seemed to fade more and more from your life; missed calls and texts have become a given, and it takes everything in you to mask your sorrow. Anyone who knows you well at all can easily see through the facade: you’re now a shell of who you once were, your normally vibrant and cheery self gone. You attempt to hide your sadness behind a smile, but it never really works out; your eyes don’t shine like they used to, and your lips don’t quite tweak up at the corners in the special way they had before. 

But you’re getting ahead of yourself again. Your reason for crying tonight is simple: for the hundredth time this month, she’s cancelled your date night plans, opting to spend the time working instead. The argument that the two of you had earlier replays in your mind:

"I don't have a choice."

Except, she did. She could choose you, choose to take a break, if only for the evening. You never ask too much of her, knowing that she can't handle even more stress competing with what she already has from the company and media. Being an idol is hard enough, and you know you can never fully wrap your head around everything that's expected of her.

Though, that makes this all the more ridiculous. All you've asked for is a couple hours of her time -- for her to relax with you and get away from it all. Earlier that day you had gone to the store and picked up all the necessary materials to treat her to a little spa day, complete with bath and body oils, face masks, and even some bath bombs. 

"Asking my wife to spend an evening with me is not unreasonable, Rosé."

"I'm not having this argument again, Y/N. I get enough shit from everyone else; I don't need any extra from you."

Maybe it was something in how she said it, so final and hateful, her face coming to rest in a scowl. Her arms were crossed as she stood in front of you, and you could see the muscles in her jaw clench and release repeatedly. In some twisted way, part of you was glad to have this encounter; it hurt like hell, but at least she was paying attention to you. She hadn't looked at you for this long in a while.

Before you can even get another word out, she sighs, saying, "I don't have time for this. I have to go back to the studio." 

Just as she turns to go, you catch her wrist. With a slightly annoyed look, she turns to face you.

"If you walk out that door then I'm leaving; at least for the night. We need to talk about this, but if you don't care enough to even give me that, then…" you trail off, tilting your head slightly. You want her to apologize, to say how wrong she's been for doing all of this to you -- but she doesn't. Her expression is tired, irritation written plainly for you to see. She pulls her arm away, offering a petty, "Oh well," with a shrug before exiting the house. 

How could she be so cold? Maybe that's what hurt the most. Seeing the love of your life turn into someone completely different than who you fell for stung more than any argument ever could. The reality is that she's not the same person anymore. Accepting that would be half of the battle in and of itself. 

Your heart is betraying itself, stuck in a sticky situation: you're constantly struggling between your love for her and the respect you hold for yourself. Half of you wants to stay, to make her listen and fight for this; but the other half of you, perhaps the more rational side, knows that that won't work now. You've tried that already, you reason with yourself, racking your brain for any new way to get through to her. 

Sometimes it's like she forgets all of the sacrifices you make for the relationship. Despite having your own busy schedule to deal with, you always make time for her. So why could she never do the same for you?

It's obvious that in its current state, this relationship is only wrecking your mental health -- a testament to that is every night you've spent lying awake, sobbing into your pillow as your list of insecurities grows longer and longer. She used to be the person you'd run to when negative thoughts plagued your mind, her sweet words of love showing how much she valued you. But all of that's gone now, leaving you with a shattered heart and racing mind. When had you stopped being enough?

~~~~~~~

It’s late, well past 4AM when Rosé manages to make it home. Practice absolutely wrecked her today, leaving her body exhausted from dancing and throat sore from all the singing she had to do. She’s more than ready to collapse into bed and pass out. 

One thing that always stayed the same was your sleeping arrangement. No matter how much Rosé hurt you, you still slept in the same bed. Her subconscious was always kinder to you than she was, anyway; the two of you would cuddle in close like before, her arms wrapped around you as she slept peacefully. No arguments or yelling, you could always count on the nights to heal your heart a little bit. 

As she enters the empty bedroom, the memory of your argument from earlier that day comes flooding back. She remembers that you said you were leaving, but part of her didn't fully believe you. She should've known better -- you always keep your word. Guilt washes over her, and she gently taps her head against the wall as a sort of self-punishment for her previous actions. Why did she say that to you? The hurt look in your eyes broke her heart, but she couldn’t afford to skip practice, especially with the comeback quickly approaching. In retrospect, she should’ve just told you that she didn’t feel prepared, and that’s why this practice had been so important. Even though she doesn’t show it, you still mean the world to her. She just so happens to be her own worst enemy. 

With a heavy sigh, she makes her way to the bathroom; there she finds a cute little basket of goodies next to the tub, and a note on the counter of the sink. She approaches the basket first, quickly discovering that it holds some of her favorite self-care items from the local store. Yet again, a deep pang of guilt courses through her upon realizing that you had prepared that for her. Defeated, she picks up the note. 

Roseanne,

If you’re reading this, then I’ve already left. I don’t want you to worry, if you even still care enough to do that, so I decided to leave this letter for you. I’ll be staying with my friend for the next while. I don’t know how long, but that depends entirely on you. I’ve tried to communicate with you, but we’re getting nowhere; we both know it. We’re not who we used to be, Rosé, and I hate that. I want us to be happy again, but it seems that I can’t do that for you. If you want to end things, let me know. 

- Y/N

Rosé’s heart is breaking, splintering into a million different pieces and leaving her with no possible way to collect them all. How had she so royally fucked this up? She only has herself to blame, and she knows that; she can’t believe that she let things get like this. She had been so blinded by the stress that she lost sight of the most important thing in her life: you. It’s slowly sinking in that she very well might lose you for good this time, and she doesn’t know how to cope with that. She can survive without her career, but she knows she can’t go on without you.

-----  La Rêverie, 2 Weeks Later -----

She only intended to walk by -- to see if you were there and safe. But as she gazes through the windows, peeking into the place that houses so many of her dearest memories, she’s transfixed. Her eyes land on you, finding you hard at work in the kitchen. It’s always been where you go when you’re stressed or upset about something -- two things that Rosé knows she’s the cause of.

You’re in your element, face donning a look of pure concentration as you prepare what she assumes is a new dish. Your hair’s in a bun, a few strands coming down to fall around your face as you move about. Gravity takes its time in gently coaxing them out of the tie's hold, and Rosé’s breath hitches at how beautiful you look; it’s as if she’s falling for you all over again. She’s always admired your skills, but they hold a whole new meaning now, an unspoken tension in every movement you make. 

How had she been so selfish? You had been there for her all along, waiting patiently for the day that she would come to her senses. You would always have dinner ready -- usually one of her favorites, hoping that would spark something again -- but she always brushed you off. She never stayed long enough to see the crushed look on your face, or how the pain was becoming clearer and clearer by the day. She realizes now just how much of a toll her actions have taken on the both of you; you're still just as breathtaking as ever to her, but that special sparkle in your eye has long been eclipsed by something more dull. You're tired of being let down repeatedly, stuck in a constant loop of excuses and avoidance, and Rosé can't blame you for a second.  

The time apart hasn't been kind to her at all; there hasn't been a single day that's gone by where you haven't consumed her thoughts. She misses you so badly it hurts, and even now, despite being so close to you, separated only by the walls of the restaurant, you've never been further away. 

The distant sound of a car alarm cuts through the silence, simultaneously scaring her and drawing your attention. Before you can spot her, she ducks down; there’s no way that she can face you yet. Taking this as a sign, she decides to leave.

She’s spent the past 2 weeks attempting to spare you by not coming around; she thinks you need time away from her to deal with everything she’s put you through, and she doesn’t want to upset you anymore than she already has. Ever-torn, part of you is glad that she’s stayed away; however, another part of you just wants to see her again. You miss the nights more than you thought you would. 

--- A Few Days Later ---

Steady sheets of rain pound harshly against the window, vibrating the latches with each gust of wind. Times like these are always the worst, especially when you don’t have Rosé to calm you down. Violent thunderstorms never fail to frighten you, and this one in particular seems like it’ll be the worst one of the season. Swiftly padding over to the window, you sneak a quick peek outside, only to find the branches of the large oak tree that occupies the yard swaying in the wind with reckless abandon. The sight terrifies you, but you do your best to keep yourself from panicking, even having to do some breathing exercises. Your friend can sleep through anything, and you know she needs the rest; so, you stay in the spare bedroom that she’s so graciously allowing you to reside in, and lie awake. 

Across the city, Rosé is tossing and turning. The storm hasn’t fully reached its peak there yet, but she knows how worried you must be. Tears spring to her eyes at the thought of you huddled up under the covers, body trembling in fear as the storm rages on. The deep-rooted shame that she’s grown so accustomed to since you left plagues her conscience, making her even more disgusted with herself. 

After turning over yet again, her eyes land on the picture she has of the two of you propped up on the nightstand. It was taken on your wedding day, that stunning view of the venue paling in comparison to your beauty. A sense of determination washes over her -- determination to make you that happy again someday, in whatever way she can -- and she gets out of bed to collect a few materials. She’ll do whatever it takes.

----

The sound of a car door slamming perks your ears up, and your curiosity gets the better of you. Quickly pulling the curtain back, you’re beyond shocked to see Rosé out there, holding something in her hand. Just as you lean in closer to the window to try and see what it is, her caller ID pops up on your phone. 

“Come downstairs, please.” 

Even with the vast array of emotions coursing through you at the moment, you’re only focused on getting her inside and out of harm’s way. 

You nearly knock the door off its hinges with how quickly you snap it open. To your surprise, she’s still standing by her car, but now you can see what she was holding before; a white sign with black writing on it. The words are barely legible with how much it's raining, the dye of the marker horribly smudged, but you can make out: “I’m sorry! I’m an idiot.” It’s like something out of romantic drama.

Before you can even comment on everything that’s happening, Rosé begins the speech that she’s been trying to piece together ever since you left. 

She has to raise her voice so you can hear her over the storm. You wonder why she doesn’t just come in, but you think that maybe she’s doing it to show you that she’s willing to punish herself by standing out in the elements. “No words that I say will ever be able to fix the pain that my actions caused. You don’t deserve any of the shit I put you through, and I hate myself for being such a coward. I was too immature to look past my own struggles and just talk to you about them.” 

Now, she takes a few cautious steps towards the front door, testing the waters as she scans your face to gauge how you’re feeling. “I guess I just thought I could deal with it like I always do. But losing you showed me how wrong I was; I love you so much, Y/N. I don’t want to end things; I’ll never want that. You’re my world, baby; I’m so sorry that it took me this long to see what was right in front of me.” 

How are you to respond to that? Can you trust her? She looks more sincere in this moment than she has in a long time, and that puts you a little more at ease. Her eyes are begging -- pleading -- with you to believe her, and after a moment you step to the side, wordlessly telling her to come in. You don’t even realize that you’re crying until a few stray tears drip onto your shirt, leaving little marks in their wake. She has to restrain herself from reaching out and wiping them away; she has no idea when -- or if -- you’ll be able to forgive her. 

Soft pitter-patter of the water running off of her coat echoes lightly across the foyer, serving as white noise for the conversation you’re having. Her sniffles work in tandem with it, and she bites back her sobs in order to get the words out. 

“I know this won’t be fixed overnight, but I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you’ll let me. I won’t blame you for a second if you can’t forgive me, either. I just couldn’t let you get away without a fight.”

With each new fresh batch of tears that settle in your eyes, you have to work twice as hard to blink them away. “I-I don’t know what to say, Rose. You’re the only person in this world capable of hurting me that badly, because you mean more to me than anyone else. But I never thought you’d treat me like that. Do you know how many times I doubted myself, thinking I did something wrong?” Your tone is bitter now, voice conveying the pain from those months of anguish that you had to endure, and Rosé hangs her head. 

“I know that now, Y/N, and I know that I can never take it back. But God, how I wish I could. I’d do anything in my power to take that pain away. It was never your fault; none of it was.”

You know she’s being honest. After seeing the opposite for so long, it’s easy to spot when she’s telling the truth. You nod a couple times, deciding to pull her in for a long-overdue hug. She’s motionless at first, not quite knowing if you want her to return it or not, but the second that you quietly say, “Hold me, Rosé,” she’s scooping you up in her arms like her life depends on it. Her head rests in the crook of your neck, and the two of you cry together, letting all of the pent up frustration and sadness leave your bodies. 

After standing there, embracing one another for who knows how long, she pulls away just enough to look into your eyes. Her gaze subtly falls to your lips, but you don’t fail to notice. “Can I?” She asks gently, raising her eyes back up to yours. “Yes.” You utter, nearly swooning as her soft lips brush against your own. You’ve missed them. 

Her chilled hands cup your cheeks with purpose, and you can feel water running off the ends of her hair and onto your chest.

She kisses you in such a poetic way: softly, as if you might break at any moment, but urgently, like a lost soldier finally returning to the arms of their lover. She wants to make you feel how sorry she is, how much she loves you, and this seems like the perfect place to start.

“I love you, jerk,” you say through your tears, brushing your thumb along her cheek as you look into her eyes.

“And I love you, angel.” She picks you up, spinning you around a couple of times before setting you back down on your feet. 

After a moment, you glace at the window. “Shhhh, wait. Do you hear that?”

She cocks her head to the side as she listens closely for any potential noise that you might be talking about, but she hears nothing. “No? I don’t hear anything…” 

“Exactly; the rain stopped.”

“Huh. I guess it did its job, then.” She smiles, silently thanking the universe for working in its wonderful ways. It brought the two of you back to one another, and neither of you can contain your happiness. Maybe you don’t hate storms as much after all...

[samstree]

25. "prove it" for the banter prompt list? I love ur writing jin!!

Ahh thank you so much for the prompt!! And thank you for the kind words! <3333 Here’s Geralt being a tired dad, some cheeky Jaskier and our sassy girl Ciri! ;))

(established geraskier, fluff, sparring, kaer morhen, 880 words)

---

“I can take you.”

“No, you can’t.”

“Prove it.”

“Jaskier.”

Geralt watches in amusement as the bard gets up from the bench and takes Ciri’s place, cracking his knuckles as if it’ll make him look more impressive. The girl lets out an exhausted sigh, glad to finally take a break from training but equally enthused for the drama that follows.

“Get him, uncle Jask!” She sounds way too eager, now sitting at the bench next to the lute.

“Why are you on his side?” Geralt frowns at Ciri, slightly hurt.

“No, I’m always on your side, Geralt,” she tilts her head sweetly. “But I also really want to see a bard kick your ass.”

“Your wish is my command, princess.” Jaskier bows before picking out a dagger.

“You are getting better with a dagger, Jaskier, but you’re no match for me.”

“Didn’t you tell your daughter that she can beat anyone as long as she puts her brains into it? Exploit their weakness? After all, everyone has them.” The bard rolls up his sleeves and readies his stance. “Watch and learn.” He winks at Ciri.

“Weakness or not, it’s not even a fair fight.” Geralt takes up his training sword regardless. There’s no harm in humoring the two of them.

“There’s no fairness in the real world. You taught her that too.” Jaskier smiles before attacking.

The bard is getting better. His strikes are powerful and true, mostly aiming at a particular side, but the witcher blocks with ease.

“My bad knee won’t be weakness enough, bard.” Geralt flicks his wrist, landing a hit on Jaskier’s ribs. He lets out an offended cry.

With an exasperated huff, the bard changes tactics. Now his footwork is speeding up, taking advantage of his nimble movements and smaller size. It’s almost enough to find a window in Geralt’s tight defense. The girl can indeed learn something here.

Impressive.

“Take that, old man!” Ciri shouts out a cheer for Jaskier.

The witcher rolls his eyes and wards off another quick strike. The blunt of his sword hits the bard heavily on his bicep. It’ll definitely leave a bruise.

Jaskier shakes it off almost impatiently. He’s getting tired and sloppy.

“Yield now, Jask.”

“What, scared?” The bard heaves out a breath before charging directly at Geralt, using his full body weight. It’s a stupid move against someone a lot heavier. On the bench, Ciri physically flinches, knowing what will happen, because it takes very little effort to direct the momentum the other way and let Jaskier fall on his own. The dagger flies across the courtyard.

But the bard lands heavily on his side and lets out a pained gasp. His entire body goes stiff, curled into his right side.

Geralt stares as Jaskier’s breaths hitch and shudder, before moving towards him. “Shit, Jask. Are you hurt?”

He kneels next to the bard in a hurry. When Jaskier looks up, his expression is full of pain, his brows knitted tightly. Until he sees Geralt’s worry closely. Suddenly, his face relaxes completely and breaks into a cheeky grin.

“What…”

In an instant, Jaskier has rolled on top of Geralt and pinned him to the ground, the unexpected force knocking the breath out of him. Cold metal presses against his neck—the training sword he put down in a hurry when checking on Jaskier’s ‘injury’.

“Yield,” the bard demands. His cornflower blue sparkles smugly.

“You bastard.”

“There’s no fairness in the real world. It’s an important lesson, Geralt.” Jaskier presses the blunt weapon harder. “Now yield!”

“I yield.” Geralt stares as the bard throws the sword away with a clink.

“Come on now. Let’s get you off the ground.” The bard climbs off the witcher before pulling him up as well. He continues to beat the dust off Geralt’s shirt, grinning like a fool. “Oh, don’t be a grump! Wasn’t that fun?”

Winning does not seem to be good for the bard’s ego. Geralt shakes his head in exasperation.

Although Ciri has come to hug Jaskier in celebration and giggling freely. It’s hard to be mad at the bard when he makes the girl so happy, even with a silly stunt like this.

“You took that loss with grace, Geralt,” she teases, her cheeks flushed with excitement.

“Hmm,” he admits defeat. “It was smart.”

“Your weakness, Geralt. Didn’t expect that, did you?” Jaskier raises an eyebrow, letting Ciri walk off to prepare for the next round of training.

“I still don’t see the point of this. You know you can never pull this off again?”

“True,” Jaskier says as he watches Ciri put away the weapons on the other side of the courtyard, his voice lowered. “But your daughter is no longer grumbling about how hard you’re working her.”

Geralt blinks. The girl is walking with a little skip, her earlier weariness completely replaced with a chirpy smile.

“Carrot and stick. Another lesson.” Jaskier kisses Geralt on the cheek adoringly, before returning to his lute.

As his daughter comes back to the training ground revigorated, Geralt sends his bard a soft look. Cornflower blue meets him in understanding. After so many years, Jaskier has long since learned to discern the gratitude he never vocalizes.

He chuckles to himself.

Maybe losing to a bard is not that bad.

[spiltscribbles]

Im so excited!!!! Here’s a little “It’s always been you. You and only you.” sprinkled in with Green-Eyed Epiphany

~Notes: OMFG bubby!!!! You are so beyond adorable! Thank you So SO much for the sweetness!! I really hope you like this XS and fingers crossed  this fits the promptXS <3 <3 <3

.-

Prompt Smash Game  |  Send Me A Prompt💜   |  A Reblog Is Like A Huge, Warm Hug!!!

.-

~R: my mom’s working the night shift at the clinic👀👀

~S: Kinky😏

~S: I can be there in 15

~R: make it 20 and get Chinese x

~S: sometimes I think ur j using me for the food

~R: and bring henny😈

.-

It’s seventeen minutes since Remus sent the last text when the front door of his modest ranch house begins to thump with a familiar wrapping that’s three quick knocks followed by two slower ones, and he has to wrestle down the eager grin from his face when he swings it open to find one of his closest friends standing at the threshold in that customary  weathered, leather jacket that he found two summers ago when Remus had taken him thrifting for the first time, and an impish sort of smirk that definitely would look ridiculous on anyone else, but only makes Sirius all the more maddeningly attractive. 

“What took so long?” Remus asks mildly, pulling him indoors by the sleeve and gesturing for him to set the goods on the kitchen counter once they cross the small foyer.

“You wound me, Lupin.” Sirius retorts, quick-silver eyes flashing before he pins him against the island and puts his hands on either side of his waistline with more gentleness than Remus would’ve expected before they began this whole sorted affair— Okay, maybe that’s the wrong word for it?

It’s not an affair, or tryst, or carrying on or whatever the fuck else Lily says when she’s teetering on the wrong edge of tipsy and thinks it’s her right to call Remus out on his bullshit— on his stupid, beyond obvious crush he’s been fostering for one of his closest friends since junior high.

It’s none of those things— It’s not nearly as dramatic.

It’s just— Just that yes, Remus has been harboring a tiny infatuation  for Sirius ever since that first day of the seventh grade  when he had moved to this tiny, coastal town after his parents divorce. But how could he have not? Sirius is hilarious, and a genius, and so gorgeous that sometimes it feels like his insides are twisting up whenever he glances over at him. And on that first day, he had just caught Remus’s eyes from across the library shelves before classes begun, and smiled in that uniquely electric way of his, and asked if Remus could put slime in a very specific locker, (Snape’s), for a very specific reason, (Because he kept following Lily around like a creep), on account to no one suspecting the new kid. And yeah— Remus was lost on him an embarrassing amount from then on. 

Sure, it can be regarded as kinda pathetic on Remus’s end— kindling this nest of emotions so close to the chest— but also it’s not as if he’s been lovestruck by his crush, like it’s some sort of waterlogged scarf he’s got dragging him down. His attraction towards Sirius is like a soft melody that’s swelling in the backdrop of all their interactions, nothing overwhelming— not a flood plane, not yet at least. It’s warm, and it’s familiar, and it’s persistent like a flutter of a humming bird’s wings.  And Remus doesn’t mind pining over someone as fantastical as Sirius Fucking Black.

Graciously, in some strike of incredible luck, Sirius never caught on to Remus’s silly feelings, not until that night when they were watching an old movie in Remus’s basement while James and Lily were celebrating an entire year together— save for all their sudden stops and just as speedy starts— and Peter was visiting his grandmother in Tampa Bay. It was the first time they had been alone together since Remus broke up with Caradoc for the final time, and Sirius just looked so fucking good in that casual, white v-neck and his skinny jeans that make him look like some echo of James Dean on his best day. And Remus isn’t sure who exactly moved forwards first, or how the fuck Meg Ryan wandering the Seattle streets was some sort of aphrodisiac, or why Sirius— who could have any guy he would ever want— was actually humoring him, but one second they’re lying down on the sofa— Remus caged between Sirius’s expanse and the cushions behind them— and the next he’s tasting PBR on Sirius’s lips, and has got a fist full of his dark hair, and is thrilling at the feeling of Sirius’s thigh between his legs. And yeah— it just happened like those sort of things are want to do, and by the end of it they were sticky and breathless and diffident in ways they never been around one another, in ways Remus reckons Sirius has never been around anyone.

But the next weekend, when Sirius’s latest sorta— but not really— boyfriend had canceled on their dinner plans, Sirius wandered over to Remus’s bedroom window and it was another tumbling of frenzied hands and loosen buckles and thrusting hips. And then it just became an easy release— a sort of poetry, an understanding in all but name.

And that’s fine. They don’t have to talk about it. Remus knows that Sirius isn’t the type to settle down with a partner, to go bowling for a date, or texting countless messages that amount to nothing at all at the end of the conversation, or putting up with another dude’s parents taking photos of them before leaving to prom or homecoming or whatever the fuck else. And Remus is sorta sick of the idea of love, of trying so hard only to end up heartbroken and eating a gallon of Chubby Bunny in his favorite sweats and cursing John Hughes for pretending Hollywood romances can happen to ordinary high schoolers. 

So yeah— This thing they’ve fallen into with each other is good. They’re friends— best friends— and they have fun and they’re apparently really fucking good in bed together, and Sirius never looks at Remus with pity when he spots him gazing at his profile absentmindedly, and he doesn’t mind when Remus traces invisible designs against his skin when they’re soaking in the after glow, and he never treats him  any different. Sirius still slings his arm around Remus’s shoulders when they walk down the halls, and he still buys him his favorite chocolates when he feels poorly, and he still faces Dorcas's disapproving wrath when he drags Remus out of the library to have a little mischief— whether it’s smoking a blunt in the abandoned skatepark in town or playing some stupid prank on those assholes in their year. 

For all intent and purposes, they still behave the same they’ve always acted around one another, but just with the miraculous addition of mind-blowing and dulcetly ductile sex.

This is good, this is fun, this is completely untethered from the bull shit of romance.

And if Remus mouths against the juncture of Sirius’s neck a little too intensely— trying to pry off the memory of the hickey Sirius had been sporting after spending the weekend with Gideon Prewett— Well no one has to be any the wiser, and by the sound of Sirius’s hitched breaths, he seems not to mind even slightly.

“Except my apology?” Remus asks, more coy than he ordinarily acts as he drops his arms around Sirius’s neck, and leans on the balls of his feet to whisper against his temple.

“Oh, you’re such a bastard,” Sirius retorts, labored as all get out, kneading his fingers into Remus’s ass that’s only covered by the thin layer of his plaid pajama bottoms. “You are going to have to do a lot more for me to forgive the lip.”

Remus laughs in a stammering sort of way as Sirius tugs him along, walking backwards to his room that he’s become incredibly intimate with since the first time they did this three months ago. 

“Sirius, the spring rolls— they’re gross if we have to heat them up again.”

“I’ll postmate us knew ones,” Sirius insists, covering Remus’s mouth with his own with fervor. “C’mon babe, do not tease me like this.”

Sirius must’ve caught his mistake, because he suddenly goes as red as Remus feels— The pet name was to close for comfort considering their strictly friends with benefits nature, but Remus is already half hard, and he really does not want to end this, so with a sly wink, he returns to nipping at Sirius’s jawline, rutting against him in a very unambiguous way. “Fine, if you really don’t think you’ll need the nourishment for your stamina?”

The words have their intended effect, and Sirius makes a small growl deep in his throat before practically tearing off Remus’s shirt, and dipping beneath the waistline of his pants, scooping him up and racing to the bed.

And they get lost in one another beneath the pale glow of Remus’s lamplight and the moon spilling through the window, relearning each others every patch of skin for minutes on end that wax and wane like the delta of ocean waves, unspooling into something tangible and tantalizing with every kiss punctuated with teeth that Sirius trails across Remus’s collarbone, and the way Remus palms greedy hands up and down Sirius’s back until he gets the hint and undresses.

“Well come on, you’re not an invalid, Lupin.” Sirius jeers and Remus chuckles as he follows suit until they’re both finally, blessedly nude. And with an easy assurance of them having done this more than a dozen times now, Remus crawls into his lap and kisses him straight on the mouth, preening how Sirius moans against him— canting up wantonly and grabbing at his hips with a sort of intensity that will probably leave bruises in the shape of the pads of his fingers, and Remus absolutely adores the idea of that, feels something hot and needy and desperate unfurl in his gut as he presses their mouths more forcefully together, going buzzed when he gets to relish in the sensation of their tongues running against one another, and the taste of the ridges on the roof of Sirius’s mouth, and the slide of the soft skin of his inner cheek— gasping when Sirius pulls away abruptly, panting an almost reverent, “Mother of God, Remus,” and tackles him flat on his back before they commence, with the addition of both their hard,  leaking cocks thrusting against one another and Sirius’s hand in Remus’s hair pulling that bit more forcefully while his other one roams the dips and planes of his side— skirting against the divots of his stomach muscle before he wraps it around the pair of them and begins to pull in earnest, to the rhythm that Remus swears was strung from the heavens above.

“Oh— Oh, yeah— Sirius,” Remus breathes out in a haggard sort of way, words that he refuses to ever call a mewl even if they’re stretched out and crackle with emotion.

“Yes—, just say that again,” Sirius practically demands, his mouth completely covering his ear in a wet, hot heat— his teeth scraping against the soft shell. “Remus, baby, just say my name, tell me you want it.”

And God, Remus is feeling so heady— like he’s floating and he couldn’t possibly come back down— that he probably would’ve listened to anything Sirius asked of him, especially if he does that thing again, when he squeezes the slick length of them with a tad more force than they usually play at. “Sirius, Sirius. Sirius, please, I’m close,” Remus shrills in an unsteady staccato— his normally smooth tenner going pitchy and pleading, and he can feel his toes curling, can feel the eminent release coming— What he does not expect is to feel something poking at his entrance, didn’t expect to be struck dumb by the sensation of the tip of Sirius’s large, dry finger poking right there, right against the fluttering hole, while he’s still pumping them in tandem, and the second it hooks inside Remus goes a startling sort of static , sees blasts of white blotching his vision and his head thrown back and his dick spirting out heavily against Sirius’s deliciously defined torso.

And he’s just breathing heavily now, during the come down, can barely make out anything  through the heavy weight around him, the one  cushioning his head— but he does graciously feel Sirius’s cock fucking into his own hand against Remus’s thigh and then idly the feeling of his come splattering him, but then after that he can just barely hear the distant padding of feed against floorboards, followed by a wet washcloth being dabbed against his skin. So when he finally forces himself to focus, he sees Sirius cleaning himself off, wrapping it into the pair of joggers Remus was wearing earlier and tosses it to the corner of the room. 

“Rude,” he scolds with no heat, shuffling closer to him when Sirius lies down besides him once more and circles an arm around his torso.

“THat’s what you get when you’re acting like a lazy fuck,” Sirius counters, smug as all get out while he threads a hand in Remus’s hair.

“Hmm, didn’t see that in the papers recently. Is it a new law?”

“Yeah, actually just past on the senate floor.”

“Interesting… Well considering that only one of us has a senator for a father, I really have to ask to see the power-point you shared with him to get this bill through the stalemate,” Remus’s head bounces against Sirius’s chest from the force of his laughter at the barb.

“Oh, stuff it, Lupin.”

Hiding his smile into Sirius’s skin, Remus does as told, and they both just lie there, as if everything’s gone suspended just for the pair of them, just so Remus can count out the beats of Sirius’s heart pulsing against his sternum, and can feel the way their legs tie into one another, and can feel Sirius mouthing against his temple, blowing his curls with every exhale. 

And Remus thinks that he’d do anything to remember this exact moment for every single day from here on out.

But then the quiet is abruptly and permanently punctured by the sound of his phone chirping, and he has to breathe in deeply before separating from the warmth of Sirius, and fishes down for the device that’s still crammed into the side of his bed from where he had hidden it after that initial text.

“Is Dearborn still on your ass to try again?” Sirius asks, a bit stilted.

Remus wonders if he’s just imagining the tension twisted in the question, but reasons that Sirius’s never been Caradoc’s biggest fan, so he just shrugs it off— really doesn’t want to get into some stupid argument about his asshole of an ex when he’s still feeling so content. “Nah, ’s James. Still trying to force me to go to the homecoming dance with you guys.”

“Oh,” Sirius retorts, lips pinched while watching Remus redress. “You should go, Marls is pregaming and you know she always gets the good shit.”

Remus shakes his head while puttering over to find a new pair of sweats and a sweater. “Nah, just not feeling it this year— Erm, you’re taking Gid I assume.” He’s not sure why he asks it, supposes he’s always a glutton for some pain and shitty feelings to inspire his playlists habit, but also maybe it’s him trying to sober himself. Trying to remember that despite this— despite everything they just did and  how easy it’s always been for them to fall into step with one another— Remus isn’t good enough to be seen with Sirius in the light of day. He’s probably not handsome enough or cool enough or something else that makes Sirius absolutely revolted from the thought. Probably that he’s beyond bookish, and looks painfully virginal and isn’t nearly as sly or snarky as his other conquests.

Truly, Remus should just be thankful that Sirius wants this at all, he shouldn’t be so crazed over the why nots of the situation— it’ll only kill him trying to be something he never could actually affect with any credence.

Schooling his features to something passably indifferent, Remus pivots to face him again, is startled when he finds Sirius still naked and staring at him with a burning sort of intensity in his storm cloud eyes. 

“He hasn’t said anything, but I guess he’s assuming as much,” he finally says, running a hand through his overgrown fringe, that familiar twitch of the corner of his mouth grabbing Remus’s attention. The one that tells him Sirius is actually irritated about something he’s not letting himself say out loud. 

“Erm, good? Gid’s a decent guy.” Remus mutters, head ducked once it gets to a point that he can’t stand Sirius looking at him like that— Not after how blissed out and ferocious he had been groping every inch of Remus only moments ago. “You guys are nice together.”

And it’s like the breath before the worst of storms when his words collapse between them, making the pregnant silence go suddenly suffocating.

“Right,” Sirius intones once Remus levels their gazes, hurriedly standing and collecting his own clothes, fracturing the moment completely. “Right. Whatever, yeah. I’ll go to the fucking dance with fucking Gideon Prewett. That’s good.”

“Sir—“

“No, it’s fine. You can just stay home, and mourn over that douchebag Dearborn some more, even though you ending it with that dick was the best decision you could’ve made, Remus, and I’m not even saying it just because I’m petty. He is a prick, and you need to finally get a clue how much better you deserve, damn it!”

Remus’s head feels like it’s swimming. Why is Sirius so angry all of a sudden? Does he not like Gideon? Why can’t he just cut it off like so many times before? And why the hell is he petty over Caradoc? The entire situation feels like someone’s just handed him a wedge of Swiss cheese and told him to knit it back together. 

“What is up your ass?” He decides is an appropriate enough question for his floundering, and shutters back only slightly at how fuming Sirius looks when he rounds on him— clothes disheveled and fearsome glower heavy on his face. 

“Whatever Remus, if you can’t see that Dearborn is bad news—“

“I’m not pining for Dearborn,” Remus interjects, really doesn’t feel like listening to one of Sirius’s ridiculous diatribes about him, not now. Not when he’s still so bewildered by everything else. “Why would you think that?”

The fire in Sirius’s eyes vanishes as quickly as someone blowing on a candle, and it’s his turn to gawk, gaping at Remus, shoulders dragged down and eyes wide. “Wait— You’re not?”

“No…. I haven’t even thought about him for weeks.”

“Oh.” Sirius looks contemplative for a moment, before the righteous anger that only he could ever wear with such conviction, melts over him once more. “All right, then what the fuck is this?”

Remus stiffens, feels his veins lace with ice, an his breath catch somewhere in his throat, really does not think he’s ready for this conversation. “This?” 

“Yes, Remus, this!” Sirius demands, sounding harsh in comparison to the barely croak Remus had spoken with. “Listen I don’t care if you want me to wait some more, if you need to lick your wounds or whatever. But why are you like pushing me on other people? Why do you want me not to be around? why do you  want me to go out with other dudes?”

Remus lies back on the chest of drawers now, feels beyond dazed. “What the hell are you talking about, Sirius?”

Sirius clenches his teeth right then, the hinge of his jaw going taught 

before he skulks closer, not letting Remus drop his gaze. “Is it me? Is it that you just can’t see me that way? Are you just stringing me along or something? Because I really didn’t think that was your style, but if it’s that, then Remus—“

“Stringing you along?” Remus asks in a voice barely above a whisper, just needs to feel his lips forming the absolutely risible words, even if it makes it so something dark passes across Sirius’s beauteous features.

“Remus, I swear to God! Stop repeating everything I’m fucking saying!”

“Then start making  some damn sense!” Remus snaps, suddenly heated as he straightens and pins him with a proper scowl. “What in holy hell are you going on about?”

“God! Do I have to spell it out!” Sirius barks, cutting the final step dividing them and grabbing for Remus’s shoulders with a tight squeeze. “I know you just wanted to fuck around with someone after Dearborn showed his extreme dickitude, and listen, I was so fucking ecstatic that you wanted me for it. But I can’t do this in-between shit anymore! I’m sorry, but I can’t! And I get if this is annoying, but I’ve been crazy for you for so long. And I just can’t keep myself at an arms length anymore, not now that we’ve really had each other, not after you let me actually touch and taste and fuck you and— Damn it, this isn’t coming out the way I wanted, all right! Damn it, maybe Evans was right and I should’ve made queue cards like some dumb ass— But then James pointed out how unromantic that was, and Marlene said—“

Gently, Remus puts his shaking fingers against Sirius’s lips, effectively killing off anything else he’s about to say. And slowly, everything is beginning to slot into place, and he’s so spiteful over how they’ve been such idiots this entire time— swears to put salt into Lily’s coffee next time he sees her. 

“I didn’t know you actually were into me Sirius.”

Stunned, Sirius’s dark brows hike up to his hairline. “How the hell didn’t you know?” He demands against Remus’s fingers, thunderous and insulted looking.

“Because you never fucking said as much!” Remus defends himself, feels a mangled sort of laughter squirming out. “God, we’re idiots.”

“We’re?” Sirius asks, hesitant and red faced before Remus moves his hand to peck softly against his mouth. 

“I’ve been half in love with you for years you absolute ass-wipe, it’s always been you! You and always you.” Remus tells him breathily, still fighting down the last remnants of his actual, god forsaken giggle— like he’s thirteen again and getting buzzed off his mom’s peach wine coolers. “I only never said anything because I never thought I’d have a chance with someone like you— Someone so— so— Someone so amazing.”

The smile Sirius favors him with right then is something absolutely incandescent, and his eyes shimmer with a very distinct sort of joy that Remus wonders if anyone besides him has ever witnessed. “Then you’re definitely the biggest idiot between us, Lupin.” Sirius declares, knocking their foreheads together, and lacing his hand into Remus’s own before squeezing meaningfully.

“Fuck off,” Remus snorts, presses forwards for another languorous kiss, not feeling in danger of being swallowed whole any more— finally letting himself drown and knowing that Sirius will be there to pull him back up no matter what. 

“Oh, I could get used to this,” Sirius smirks, snakes his arms around Remus’s waste that bit tighter.

“Hmm, there is the problem that I usually don’t put out until at least the third or fourth date,” Remus says mildly.

“Pff, ‘s fine, Lupin,” Sirius insists, grinning beatifically. “I like you being a hussy for me!— Oof, careful with the merchandize, you were speaking some real exaltations about that part of my anatomy not too long ago.”

Moving his knee from the point at hand, Remus sticks out his tongue at him. “See if you ever get any ever again, Sirius Black.”

When Sirius laughs, it sounds like the strike of lightening against unmarked land, and the honey cloaked side of a knife’s edge, and like everything splendid Remus has ever known. And he thinks that yes, he could get used to this right back.

.-

[fullbusterfantasmic]

Love Potion ♋️ Chapter 4.7

Rated M

It’s all NSFW (As it should be)

1,933 words

A/N: The first position mentioned is called the butterfly or some shit (maybe?) idfk but I like it, & the second is the reverse cowgirl. Formatting is wonky, I know please look past it.

🌬Gray’s POV

The shine her eyes had held has begun to rapidly be overtaken as the (e/c) darkens, while she beckons me closer.

Her mouth is right beside my ear as she says;

“Ravish me...lay your claim on me...let every touch from you send me reeling, and begging for more...show me everything you’ve imagined doing to me and lastly...share every feeling you’ve kept hidden from me”.

The intense requests she made ignites a fire somewhere within me. Flames are rapidly consuming the protective layers of ice I’d long ago placed over my heart. Barriers erected after Deliora’s first attack, reinforced following the death of Ur...gone in an instant. Her tongue runs along the outer shell of my ear, lips placing a kiss to my temple. Pulling away, she then collapses back onto the pillows behind her, now surveying me through darkened, heavily lidded eyes.

My teeth clench as the familiar darkness begins to surface and my internal struggle begins. She asked for it....so why not give it to her? I shouldn’t...I....I’m ready to...no I NEED to let her in that now open space within my heart, within my very barren soul.

You don’t know what you do to me...

✨Your Pov

Im nervous...

I may have asked too much, it was too soon for me to come on so strongly! He still has yet to look at me, and his long bangs obscure his eyes from view.

“Gray I-“

I began to try and retract my previous statement but he interupts me. “From the very first moment I laid eyes on you I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen....and the most dangerous...” he moves out from between my legs, motioning for me to lay on my side. “ I knew if I got close to you I’d end up falling for you and that would put you at risk...”. One of his legs now rest underneath mine and my other rests over the top of his.

“Try as I might, I couldn’t force myself to get or stay away from you; somehow we always end up spending time together” he pauses, pressing a kiss to my temple before continuing; “ -and now we’re here...”.

The room is growing colder once more, goosebumps cover my exposed flesh and I lightly begin to shiver. My entire body is shaking by the time his voice reaches my ear; “With all that being said...I’m done explaining myself, and I’m done talking”.

“Now I’m going to fuck you senseless, this entire town will know you’re mine by sunrise” The vow is whispered to me in such an intimate way, it has my internal walls fluttering, before clenching around nothing. That is soon remedied; A surprised turned pleasurable cry slips out from between my lips as Gray effortlessly slides into me.

This position is a first for me, and experiencing it with this god like man...Said position has quickly become a “10 out of 10, must do again”. He holds my body so closely against his, and somehow those skilled fingers are still roaming up and down my sides. Occasionally pausing their ministrations to ghost across my chest or rub tantalizing circles Into my clit. The angle in which he thrusts into me puts the head of his cock in the perfect position to hit my G-spot each and every time he bottoms out.

The whole “I’m finished talking now” line was absolute bullshit! As soon the smug Ice mage was balls deep inside me, did the sinful whispers begin. Dear God! That deep husky voice alternating between uttering the most endearing things, having my eyes growing wet with tears. Only to make a flawless transition into speaking the most obscene and sensual promises (or threats), have my face continuing to burn red.

I was an absolute wreck.

“You should see yourself right now...Completely fucked out of your mind, slobbering all over, and tear stains coating your cheeks...yet still so breathtaking”. My enthralled lover may no longer be whispering, but the chill of his breath on my neck is still ever present. I don’t speak, I knew my ability of coherent speech had vanished long ago.

Gray doesn’t need my words to go off of now, not when my breath hitches and my body jerks involuntarily. “This one will be....number four right?” He sounds so proud. That wasn’t really a question, and I wouldn’t of answered it even if I could have.

As much as I craved release, my pride urged me to deny it. A small voice inside my head is saying; “Ignore the relentless tingling of your clit, the tight wound knot in your stomach, the pressure from that magnificent cock sinking itself into your deepest depths...”.

Dammit ___________, get it together!

You are a proud Fairy Tail mage; A living embodiment of strength, determination, and destroyer of adversity! You’ve let this man turn you into putty within his hands, he thinks he owns you! Now it’s time for you to reclaim your pride and turn the tables on him!

Who am I kidding?

🌬Grays POV

“Holding back now are we?”

I can’t help but tease her when she’s trying so hard to hide the fact that I have her teetering on the edge of bliss. She lets out and annoyed huff and I poke one of her inflated cheeks, making sure my cock is buried inside of her as far as it can go.

“You take my cock so well baby, you’re already starting to shape to me on the inside...you’ll be my perfect little cock sleeve in no time” I murmured before giving her another nice dark love bite to match the one on the other side of her neck. “I know you want to drench my cock some more” my ice coated finger flicks against her clit before circling over it.

“Hah!” she shrieks at the frozen contact to her bundle of nerves, involuntarily jerking and in turn slamming her hips backwards, burying my dick inside her once more. The tip of my head just barely makes contact with her cervix, and then her walls suddenly contract, clamping down around me. I have to give every effort to not paint them white as not only her ecstatic wail reaches my ears, but I look down just in time to see her lightly spritz the hand id been using to play with her clit.

For a moment my brain begins to short circuit, and then it just shuts down completely.

✨ Your POV

That was....incredible.

Several minutes pass with my mind reeling from the intense orgasm I’d just experienced. It’s like I’m drunk, but not from the alcohol I’d consumed earlier. Drunk from the dopamine flooding my brain, and my heart swelling with overwhelming feelings of love. Love....love for the man currently sharing my bed.  Before I can turn to Gray and embarrass myself with a bunch of post orgasm love drunk rambling, I remember something....oh my god.

I sober up and am slammed back into reality almost instantly. My face begins to burn and I Stifle a cry of humiliation as I realize; I’d just squirted all over his hand! That’s never happened to me before! Gray hasn’t said one word...he’s been silent since it happened! He probably has a look of disgust on his face, I can’t bring myself to look and see.

I try to move,, intent on getting away to take refuge on the other side of the bed. His arms immediately constrict around me, “Oh no you don’t, you aren’t going anywhere!”.  Suddenly he’s flat on his back keeping a firm grip on my hips as I’m forced to straddle him. Glancing over my shoulder I see the proud smirk he’s wearing, then he speaks; “Never had a girl do that before...I like it” giving me a wink afterwards. “Sh-Shut u-up” I mumble as I return my gaze to the wall in front of me, breathing deeply in attempt to calm my palpitating heart.

“Y’know normally I’d give you a little break but... I can’t...not after seeing you do that” he pauses, and I can’t see his eyes roaming over my back side, but I feel his hands slide down from my hips. Then a sharp SMACK resounds around the room, followed by my startled gasp. “Ride me...now!” a fierce growl preludes another sharp smack to my other ass cheek.

I don’t even bother to stop the excited shake that over takes my body, the sudden change into this demanding demeanor is thrilling! Keeping my back to him, I’m quick to position myself over his length and begin to sink down on it. The soft mewl I emit is drowned out by a hiss as the tip of his dick slips between my lips. “That’s it...good girl” he praises as he begins to rub out the red marks on my ass.

Eager to please I get straight to work.

Albeit a bit awkward at first, but Im able to get a steady rhythm going in no time. “So much better than in my dreams...fuckin’ hell __________ your ass is perfect! Yeah that’s it babe, bounce it just like that” Gray mumbles appreciatively, completely enamored with the sight in front of him. “Dream about me often do you?” I tease, throwing him a smug glance over my shoulder. “More often than I’d ever care to admit, now turn around and face me would you?.

I do as he asked, rotating my body to face him. He gently pulls me down towards him and I stop short, my face now inches above his own. My stomach feels like it’s filled with butterflies at the sudden closeness. Unsure of what to do I quietly whisper an awkward sounding “Hi”. A wide grin appears on his face as he responds; “Hi” followed quickly by a chuckle at my sudden awkwardness.

Now we’re both smiling at each other like complete dorks, and I’m compelled to lean forward and kiss him. I resume my ride as his tongue curls around mine, quickly losing myself in the passion of this moment. Gray is quick to pick up the slack, thrusting his hips upward each time mine sink down. The atmosphere in the bedroom has changed, we both feel it. When I say his name again it comes out in a breathy whine.

His eyes reflect an emotion I’ve never seen in them before and his tone is gentle when he says “I know baby, hold on just a little longer for me”. Strong arms wind themselves tighter around me, drawing my body in as close as possible as he speeds up the pace of his thrusts. “I want to feel you gush all over my cock when I finally get to cum inside you” his lips are on mine again, kissing me passionately while bouncing me up and down on his cock.“That okay with you baby? Do you want me to fill up this tight little cunt?”

My confession comes out quick and shameless; “Yes! God there’s nothing I want more right now, I’ve wanted that for ages!”.

“Tell me, who do you belong to now snowflake?”

“YOU! I belong to you now Gray”

“Tell me you need me”

“I need you, I never want to be without you, so please just-“

“Tell me...” he pauses, placing a hand on my cheek and staring into my eyes.

“Tell me you love me”.