#i can see how if you were in or found the wrong circles you would quickly get some terrible ideas

[larkthorne]

wow a post vaccine baby is no joke! Haha I'm in danger dot gif.....

[reidmotif]

Relax, I've Got You

Summary: Reader isn't the best at handling stress, and her roommate Spencer, notices. Luckily, he has quite a few salacious ideas on how he could make her feel better.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: friends-with-benefits situation, oral (f!recieving), fingering (f!recieving), mentions of anxiety/symptoms of anxiety.

Word Count: 2.7 k

Masterlist

You were never good at handling stress. 

You were well aware of this facet of your psyche– the way tensity would often wind around your limbs, snaking into the very depths of your bones until you were entirely drained and devoid of peace, a shell of the person you were accustomed to being. 

You had dealt with this complication on your own for the most part. You’d come home after a long day, and attempt to find yourself again through chamomile tea, lavender mists, and a warm blanket. 

Of course, there were days where even these measures could not suffice in curing your weariness. 

That’s where Spencer Reid came in. 

He’d only been your roommate at first. With the economy going as it was, it was simply more practical to find one, rather than renting alone. He’d responded to an ad you’d put up, and you accepted. The process was easy, honestly. You had no qualms about sharing your living space with another person, and even found the arrangement enjoyable at times. Spencer was well-mannered, never missed rent, and wasn’t even at home most of the time. When he was, he was quiet. Sweet. 

Through time, you found yourself becoming friends with the man. The conversation was light and easy, and in a rare turn of events, you started to open up to him. Even more surprisingly, he returned the favor, adding to the understanding that was fast growing between the two of you. It seemed only natural, since both of you were made naturally vulnerable by the circumstances of your situation. You’d come to your apartment, drop the mask of the day, and see that Spencer was already there, becoming an extension of the solace you found at home. Soon enough, the comfort of your couch was simply synonymous to him as well. 

It didn’t take long for Spencer to notice the anxieties that would plague you when a deadline came about, or when you simply fixated on an issue for too long. The way your bedroom light wouldn’t shut until 4 AM, or how you’d pace in the kitchen, so wired that your body denied you the rest you so desperately needed. He noticed the dark circles, the occasional irritability (followed by an apology, of course), the headaches, everything. Which is why he thought nothing of it to suggest some remedies for your troubles over breakfast one day. 

“Caffeine can actually increase stress, if you weren’t aware.” He says, eyeing your second cup of coffee that morning. “There’s actually a large amount of data that indicates you should limit caffeine intake, especially if you’re already anxious.” 

You narrow your eyes, furrowing your brows slightly. “Says who?” You retort, not quite ready to give up your chosen beverage. 

“The NIH, Penn State, the AMA-” 

“Okay, okay. Sorry. I got it.” You interrupt, knowing you’d started a losing battle the moment you’d questioned him.  “I’ll try to cut down on it.” 

He grins, satisfied with how the interaction had played out. You, on the other hand, started to drift farther away from your current setting. You swallow, putting down your coffee cup before rubbing your eyes, a soft sigh escaping you. 

“Something wrong?” Spencer asks, cautiously, his voice soft. 

You tsk, shaking your head and shrugging a bit at your own dilemma. “It's just.. I’m already so tired. I’m exhausted and the day’s barely begun.” You pause, unable to articulate just how fatigued you were.  “It’s like I can already feel the mid-afternoon headache I’m going to get later, and it hasn’t even started yet.” You hate the way you sound, longing for the day you could fully relax for even a fraction of a second. 

“You’d probably be a lot less tired if you slept a little more.” Spencer suggests, and you shoot him a death glare. 

“Don’t you think I know that?” You snap. “I’m trying. It’s not that easy. It’s just-” You groan, stopping yourself as the quick realization dawns on you that you’ve misdirected your frustrations. There’s a wave of shame rising up almost immediately, heating your cheeks up in regret. 

“I’m sorry, Spencer. Sorry. That’s unfair of me. I know you’re just looking out for me.” You murmur, taking a deep breath to calm your senses. 

“Hey, don’t worry.” He says, his voice low and compassionate. “I get it. I know you’ve got a lot on your plate right now.” 

You nod, closing your eyes as you continue to breathe. He continues to speak, his voice remaining warmhearted. 

“There are actually quite a few ways to alleviate stress. Some experts recommend meditation, exercise and yoga. I wouldn’t mind doing those with you, if you were interested.” He offers, as he continues to ramble, lost in his own explanation in the hopes of being of service to you. “Some experts even name sex as a useful stress reliever, due to the endorphins and oxytocin released after completion.” 

You give a fruitless laugh. “Jesus, I wish. I don’t have the time to try and find someone willing to do that for me.” 

Spencer goes quiet, and you finally open your eyes. You’re met with his stare, trained on your form, a thoughtful expression on his face. 

“What?” You ask, upon returning his gaze. 

He clears his throat, shaking his head, as if he was ridding himself of a passing thought. “Nothing. Sorry. I’m sorry. I hope you do find something that works for you though. I hate seeing you like this.” 

You soften at his concern. “Thanks, Spencer.” You say, the affection in your voice unmistakable. “Maybe I’ll end up taking on.. Yoga? That seems doable, right?” 

He smiles. “Yoga. Right.” 

The days pass on, until you find yourself in a similar scenario you’ve been in one too many times. You’re pacing the kitchen, a small clock reading that it was currently 2 AM. You couldn’t even really decipher the source of tonight’s anxiety– all you know is you feel it, and you feel it deeply. 

That’s when a voice breaks through the darkness, halting your movements altogether. 

“Hey, are you alright?” Spencer’s soft, slightly deeper voice. 

“Oh, yeah.” You call out, despite the growing tightness in your chest. “I’m fine. You can go back to sleep. Sorry for waking you.” 

He shakes his head, scratching his head as he makes his way towards you. “It’s nothing.” He reassures. “I needed to pee anyway. What’s going on with you?” He inquires, gently. 

You rub at your chest, biting your lip. “The usual.” 

“Work?” He asks, softly. 

You purse your lips. “I’m not even sure at this point. Just really anxious.” 

His expression softens. A beat of silence passes between the two of you. 

“I’m- um. I’m willing to help.” He stammers out, suddenly seeming much more nervous than he was a moment ago. 

You give a dejected smile. “That’s sweet, Spencer, but I dunno. I think I have to deal with this on my own.” 

“No, I mean. I can help. I’m willing to help. To do that for you. I’m your friend. I want to help.” He restates, his voice a little urgent. 

“Willing to do what?” You ask, wholly confused with where he was going with this. 

He takes a breath. “Sex. Or, an orgasm, at least. You said no one you knew would be willing to help you like that. I am. If you want.” He blurts out. 

You stand there, momentarily shocked into silence. You’re suddenly able to recall the conversation you’d had, just a few days prior, and realize what he was trying to say.  Here you were, in your kitchen, with your friend- your roommate, and he was selflessly offering himself to you. For sex. For de-stressing sex.  He sounded so earnest, despite the obvious lewdness of his offer, and the juxtaposition made your head spin. 

“I..” You start, your voice caught in your throat. 

“You don’t have to feel compelled to say yes. I’m just offering. I want to help you.” He interjects, his voice still carrying that unselfishness you’d known from the very beginning. 

“I.. no. I mean, yes. I want to say yes.” You find yourself admitting after a moment. “But.. are you sure? It’s.. I mean, it’s sex, Spencer.” You whisper. 

“I’m aware.” He says, matching your softer tone. “I’m okay with that. Are you?” 

You take a breath. Looking up at him, you take in his slightly tousled hair illuminated by the soft moonlight that drifted in through your apartment windows. His white sleep shirt was crumpled, and even in the darkness that enveloped you, you could decipher the kindness in his eyes, his mere presence bringing a shade of ease into you as you spoke to him. 

“Yes.” You murmur out, the words flowing out with no hesitation. “I’m okay with that.” 

“Can I kiss you?” He says, gently, and your nod of affirmation is almost immediate. 

He steps closer and cups your cheek, before pressing his lips against yours gently. It’s a sweeter kiss, something that, despite never saying out loud, you would have expected from him. His mouth moves languidly against yours, before pulling away, slightly out of breath. 

“Kissing actually helps to reduce cortisol.” He murmurs. “It indirectly lowers stress as a result. Is it working?” 

And true to his words, you realized that the tightness in your chest had faded somewhat, no longer blaring with the intensity you had just felt a few minutes prior. An entirely new feeling settled within you- an ache, a need for this man and what he brought to you. 

“Yeah. It’s working.” You mumble out. 

As if he could read your mind, Spencer gently takes your hand. “Let’s move to the couch, yeah?” He murmurs, already leading you to his spot of preference. 

He gently guides you to sit on the couch, quickly finding your lips once again to exchange some soft kisses along the way. His hands drift up and down your back, fingertips light and tender. His every touch speaks to something more, to an unspoken dedication that you’d never felt before until this moment.

To something that maybe extended beyond the original purpose of your rendezvous. “Is this alright?” He asks, his tone hushed and reverent. 

You nod, almost in a trance. He was so gentle, so reassuring. He was exactly what you needed. 

His lips find yours again and you respond eagerly, letting your hands tangle into the mess of brown hair that sat atop his head. He let out a small groan as your fingers slightly tugged on the strands, sending a thrill through you. 

He starts to trail the kisses down your neck, seeking out more sensitive spots that could bring you into a further state of rest and repose.  Everything about you spurred him on, it seemed. He paid attention to every noise, every movement– his ultimate goal seeming to hinge on your pleasure throughout this. 

Of course, you respond accordingly to the dedication, a soft gasp or whimper escaping you when he would mouth at the perfect spot, which would only cause him to increase his actions tenfold, leading to even more response on your end. 

The perfect feedback loop driving you to pliancy and ecstasy all at once.

His lips begin to drift down, and you realize he’s settling in between your legs now, hands on the waistband of your sleep clothes, urging you to lie down completely, which you do. 

“Gonna take these off now.” He whispers, looking up at you between your legs. 

“Please.” You respond, waiting with bated breath. 

He manages to pull down the last barrier between you two, before being met with the mess he’d created. His lips parted as his fingers trailed lightly over your wet slit, your arousal evident on his finger as he marveled on the effect he could have on you. 

“Jesus, you’re beautiful.” He whispers, as if his eyes are set upon something precious, something worthy of worship. And in a way, isn’t that exactly what he’d set out to do the moment he’d placed his face between your thighs? 

He loops his arms around your thighs, before slowly allowing his tongue to dart out, delicately, tracing the wetness of your pussy. A moan slips out of you, low and needy, and that’s all the confirmation he needs before he’s diving in, devouring your cunt like a man starved. 

“Spencer.” You gasp out. You say his name like prayer, like he is god-given, because in this moment, he is. 

His tongue traces your clit in circles, before directly placing his lips over the swollen bud, applying some light suction. The tenderness in the action, the way his eyes flit upto yours, watching your gaze for the utmost reassurance that he was doing right by you, only hurdle you closer and closer to your pleasurable end. 

It’s almost as if you’re floating, your back arching as his face stubbornly stays buried in your cunt, lapping at your wetness insistently. He wants your release just as bad as you do, and it’s clear he’ll do anything for the sweetness that comes with you falling apart in his arms. 

“Oh god.” You moan out- how is it possible to feel so airy, and yet so present all at once? To feel every movement of Spencer’s warm, wet tongue lavishing your clit, and still be somewhere else entirely- a new height of pleasure you had sorely needed all along. 

One of his hands leaves the iron-grip it had your thighs in, letting his fingers drift towards your entrance. He slips the digits in, slowly pumping into you, only adding to the overwhelming rapture you found yourself in. Your eyes shoot open, and you find yourself writhing against him. 

“Spencer- oh god. Please, please.” You babble out, legs starting to tense with the beginnings of your orgasm. 

He only pulls away enough to murmur softly. “That’s it.” His fingers continue their steady pace into you, his grip on your thigh keeping you planted to the mattress. “I got you, love. Come for me.”

With nothing else to say, he resumes eating you out, and the combination of his fingers and mouth finally barrels you towards your orgasm, shuddering as it rips through you, as your every sense is clouded- with this, with him. 

It’s only until you’ve ridden out the entirety of your orgasm that he pulls away. Sitting upright, he leans forward to caress your jaw, taking in the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the flushed appearance your face had taken on in the throes of gratification. 

“Feeling better?” He asks, softly. 

“Entirely.” You whisper back, almost in awe. Not only at how well it worked, but how adoringly he stared at you, it being enough to stop your heart in your chest. Did he always look like this? How did you never notice? 

“Can I return the favor?” You implore, already beginning to get up, but Spencer pushes you back down lightly, shaking his head. 

“You’re tired.” He says, as if his word was fact, despite these being your feelings that were being spoken about. “Right now, the oxytocin coursing through your body is priming you perfectly for sleep, and God knows you need it.” He chuckles out.

You realize that he’s right, and for the first time, you feel the fatigue that comes naturally with sleep, as opposed to the restless nights you’d been dealing with. You still feel disappointed though, feeling a sting of rejection as you’re unable to touch him back. Still, your tiredness is undeniable, and so you nod. 

He gets up, finding a blanket to lay on top of you, before kneeling beside your face. He looks at you with subtle veneration, before letting his lips brush against your forehead. 

“I’ll take you up on your offer tomorrow, though, if that’s alright.” He murmurs. “When you’re rested.” 

Your smile is immediate. “Deal.” You whisper out. 

He looks at you for another beat, before letting his knuckles brush against your cheek, slowly retreating to his bedroom, as to let you get the rest you so desperately needed. 

You close your eyes, amazed by the tranquility that came with Spencer. How simple intimacy came with him, as if that’s how it should’ve been all along. 

You know you’ll ponder on this fact in greater detail later on, but for now, you relished in serenity of the afterglow. 

“Spencer Reid.” You think. “What divine comfort you are.” 

HOOOLY SHIT. how long has it been since i uploaded? a long time? i think. hahahaha. in between traveling, [redacted life updates], and even more, i just wasn't very inspired to write. i hope this speaks to some of you, and i hope it was enjoyable to read. as usual, any likes, comments, reblogs are so so so deeply appreciated. feedback as well! thank you so so so much for reading regardless, i am eternally grateful for any and all support <3 (oh also haha. this was written for @imagining-in-the-margins friends with benefits challenge! check it out.)

[gloxk]

hate fuckin w aot plz🙏🏿 like uh what position would they fuck you in when they mad?

Fuck me like you mad at me baby.

(Eren Y. Connie S. Armin A.)

A/N: BEAT THAT COOCHIE UP LIKE YOU MAD AT A BITCH! Sorry it took so long to get your request. But let’s just all agree Eren, Connie, Armin are the big three. I’m not arguing with anyone. It’s true. NOT PROOF READ! 17+

Synopsis: Aot men fucking you after an argument!

━━━━━━━♰━━━━━━━

༺Connie༻

—————ON DA WALL.

Connie isn’t going to show you he’s mad, but baby you gonna feel it.

And oh boy you done did it today. After he seen you flirt with a guy…jeez. You really got him walking around in circles trying to not scream at the top of his lungs.

You not going to know he’s mad for a while, after an argument and you THINK everything cooled down it hasn’t. He’s still pissed.

Props to him for controlling his anger (Eren could never.) But when you start sweet talking him again that’s when it comes out.

When you get to rubbing on his chest and start saying “I’m so sorry baby, lemme make it up to you. Please.” with that little whine in your voice…oh best believe he gonna make you sorry for real.

He gives you a small grin and says “Oh for real? You wanna make it up to me?” You should have never even offered because now look at you. Against the kitchen wall crying out how sorry you are.

“You sorry ma? How sorry?” The harshness of his voice craving down on you. You couldn’t even spit out a comprehendible sentence just “Yes mmm so sorry!”

He was satisfied with your sorry, after the second round. I mean after all you did offer…

༺Eren༻

—————FROM DA FRONT.

Now, Eren he’s rough rough when he’s mad. Like oh lord..pray he don’t get his hands on you.

Please run while you can, because after he got you alone you can’t run.

This was especially the case after he found out you followed a guy from your work place, the same guy who continuously flirted with you.

Don’t ask him how he knows, he just does.

“I ain’t dumb mama. So go ahead and do as I asked.” The request was so simple, just unfollow him. But the principle pissed you off, you never told him who to follow and who too not. So you refused. Wrong answer…

Because that refusal sent him through the roof. He just laughed while shaking his head. He tossed you on the bed with no regards.

You never been fucked so hard in your life…The headboard slammed against the wall with each thrust he gave you it was ridiculous. “Look at me while I fuck you.” Eren spat out.

Your poor neighbors, the surely heard the madness that was occurring in your bedroom. But Eren did not give a single fuck.

He had your hair twisted in his fingers while he watched you block ole boy on everything single app you had. “Nuh uh. you ain’t done yet. Block him on spotify.” You were going to learn not to go seeking attention from anyone that wasn’t him.

“Nobody’s better than me mama. You should know better than that.”

༺Armin༻

————— BENT OVA.

You would never expect Armin to act the way he acts when he’s MAD.

Of course he got upset with you before but never something that made you change your view on him.

He always tried to be understanding, always listening to what you had to say and what was wrong. But, today was a little different.

He got so mad that you commented on how his friend looked good. He took it as you wanted his friend, but that wasn’t your intention at all.

“Ah, I see. Well just how good did he look y/n?! Why don’t you just tell him how much you want him to fuck you!” His insecurities were really starting to show. But damn, he just look so fucking hot with his button up shirt slightly undone, and his hair sticking to face. His eyes widened, it was a sexy sight. Armin could tell how turned on you were getting from him slightly raising his voice.

“Fuck—y/n. Stop looking at me like that.” The threw his keys on the table while shaking his head. Armin couldn’t look at you while your hand traveled up his shirt rubbing his abdomen. You were making it so difficult for him to be mad at you right now. Especially since you started begging for him to calm down and let you make him feel better.

The small tugs at his shirt just really got him going. He immediately bent you over on the couch, throwing your clothes everywhere. “Can’t even look at you. So fucking filthy.”

You tried to move away from him pounding your insides, hoping to get a break but no. “What the fuck did I tell you about that shit? Just fuckin take it.” Sluts didn’t deserve a break. They didn’t get that courtesy.

Eventually his hatred turned into love and he started spilling out how much he loved you while he was close to cumming. “I love you so much.” & “You mean the world to me.” & “Wanna make you a mommy.”

━━━━━━━♰━━━━━━━

Ah! tysm for 400!

[luveline]

Hi, if you have time and any interest, would you write bombshell!reader comforting Spencer after the Maeve arc? Like maybe she’s the only one he lets in, and she just holds him and lets him cry and puts him first.

Will totally understand if you’d rather not/don’t reply!

ty for requesting!! <3 —You come home from months away to find Spencer in love and grieving, so you do what you can. fem, 2k

You didn’t expect Spencer to fall in love while you were gone, but you can’t begrudge him. Not for having feelings for someone who isn’t you, and certainly not for losing her. 

You love him, and you’re his friend first. 

Your shoes make sharp but steady sounds on the stairs up to his apartment. His building is old but not rundown, lacquered wooden bannister smooth under your hand, his front door immaculate, though the hallway is busy with baskets. There’s ribbon and cellophane everywhere. It’s a sorry sight. 

You haven’t brought Spencer anything besides dinner. Unlike yourself, you take in the offerings of his friends and worry you aren’t as caring as you think you are. 

Not that he seems in the mood to accept it. 

You look down at your mary jane’s and wonder if you’re doing any of this stuff right. Spencer doesn’t even know you’re back in the country, let alone the state. Perhaps he has no interest in seeing you after this long apart, and after such a tragedy. Who wants to see their too flirty friend when they’ve just lost a real love? 

You hike the tote up your shoulder. In a chequered skirt and a simple white t-shirt, you’re underdressed. The pasta you’d made and hurriedly wrapped up burns your hip where the bag rests against you, and you have to make a choice now. Let it burn you, standing and staring morosely at Spencer’s door, or face rejection. 

You only need to hear his voice. He can leave your pasta out here on the floor if he likes. What’s important is that he’s still alive in there. 

You knock on the door. 

Nothing. Complete silence. 

Nudging aside a basket of dried fruits, you try again. A simple rat-tat-tat. 

“Hey, Spencer?” you ask too quietly. 

He won’t hear you through the door. Your voice might as well be a whisper if he’s in his bedroom with the door closed. 

“Spencer, are you okay, my love?” you ask, louder.

You wince at yourself. My love couldn’t be more raw. 

“Sweetheart, I’m just here to see if you’re okay,” you say, knocking again, before leaving your hand to rest on the door. You lean forward, forehead kissing dark wood. 

You can’t hear anything on the other side. 

“Spencer,” you say with a reluctant swallow, “if you’re home, can you tell me? You don’t have to let me in. Just come to the door.” 

Penelope said he hasn’t texted her back for days. Derek said he’d answered the phone once or twice, but beyond that he’s silent. You had a nightmare on the plane home that you’d come back to find him as he’s found his poor girl, or that he’d turn to old vices, or that he’d finally give up. He’s been strong through every horrible thing thrown his way, and now he’s all alone again—

The door opens slowly. You stand up straighter, your surprise a whack to the chest as your heartbeat picks up. 

Spencer stands at the door. He looks more tired than you’ve ever seen him, his dark circles bruised like wine stains under his eyes, even his eyelids red and sore looking. His lips are almost colourless, they're so chapped, and his pyjama pants have deep, deep wrinkles at the knees. 

“Hi,” you say. “Spencer, how are you?” 

His voice rings with disuse. “You’re here.” 

“Came straight home when they told me,” you say softly, honestly. “I knew I had to see you. To make sure you’re okay.” 

“I’m not okay.” 

“I know.” You don’t know if it’s okay to ask to come in, if he’ll close the door at the suggestion, so you don’t. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” You put weight in the wrong places, too much on I’m, not enough on so. “I can’t imagine it. I would never wish this for you, never.” 

“You were in Brazil.” 

“I was.” 

He must be tired of people asking if he’s okay, yet it wants to be asked. You bite it down, and instead offer what may be the key to getting in, or a quick dismissal. 

“I made dinner for you, angel,” you say. You choose the pet name more carefully. He used to call you angel to make you feel better. “It’s just pasta, I tried not to make it too heavy in case you're nauseous.” 

“I feel so sick,” he says. 

Spencer’s curse is that he probably knows why he feels sick, and he probably knows a hundred different remedies or medications or prayers to get rid of it, but nothing can get rid of this feeling. You can be the smartest man alive and you’ll never outfox grief. 

“Will you come in?” he asks.

You breathe a short, unbidden sigh of relief. He steps aside to let you in, and you gaze around at his shock of mess, books and blankets and furniture all in the wrong places, but it’s to be expected, and it doesn’t bother you beyond that empathetic hum of hurt tucked under your ribs. You approach his couch covered in books and put your tote bag atop them, turning to tell Spencer you’ll just quickly move these aside, and stopping dead when you see him. The door closed, his face pale, Spencer looks like everything is crumbling down around him. He looks horrified to have to watch, and he looks as sick as he’d confessed. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” you say, meaning it at its surface value. You’re sorry you were in a different country while he faced this alone. Beyond everything you’ve shared, you’re supposed to be his friend, and in a way you’ve let him down. “Please forgive me if you can, Spencer.” 

He nods tightly. 

“Let me move some of this stuff and we can sit down together, is that okay? Or do you need to go back to bed?” 

“It’s okay.” 

You do it without the grace his precious books deserve, lugging armfuls of them onto the floor, no time for tidying. You make spacious room for him and you, and your gesture gently for him to come and sit, fingers moving through the air slowly with the suggestion; he doesn’t have to listen if he doesn’t want to. 

What is it about you that Spencer would let you in before anyone else? That he’d sit and watch you until you sat down, that his shoulders relax ever so slightly when you settle, your thighs aligned? 

Maybe he needs someone who wasn’t there to watch it happen, and maybe you’re like family. You and Spencer may not be in love, but you love one another. Seeing him like this has you wishing you could fix it for him so keenly it’s like your hands are bruised. Pins and needles eat your fingers as you hold a hand to his elbow. 

“What can I do?” you ask, murmuring so as not to disturb the quiet room. 

“Nothing, I’m sorry. I don’t have anything for you to do, I just…” He squeezes his eyes closed. “I just wanted to see you. You’re the only person who– who–”

His voice lifts to a strangled high pitch as he covers his eyes with one hand. 

“Can I give you a hug?” you ask. 

He nods into his hand but doesn’t move. You have no qualms with making yourself big, wrapping him up, and guiding his hand away from his scrunched up face to hold you back. 

You’re pretty pristine with hugs, as they go. You’re a soft touch. So Spencer holds you tightly and you cradle the back of his head, aware that you’re not who he really wants to be hugging, but okay with it nonetheless. “I’m so sorry,” you say, mouth to the top of his head, your hand stroking with light touches against the nape of his neck. “Spencer, it’s not fair.” 

He starts shaking in your arms. 

“The only time I got to talk to her face to face was with a gun to her head,” he says, his eye hot where it’s squished to the bottom of your cheek. 

“Honey, you had something special,” you say, sort of guessing, because you had no idea Spencer was even talking to someone. Everything you know about the situation you learned from Hotch, but you can read from his level of distress how much she meant to him. “You don’t need to have been face to face to have shared something like that. Love is about connection, and I’m so sorry you don’t get to see her, but you– I’m sorry. You didn’t get all the time you deserved.” 

You’d been trying to say that it doesn’t matter if he saw her or not, that their relationship was just as real no matter what, but you know he’s not just mourning her, but the possibility of a life with her he won’t get now. 

“I tried everything I had to save her,” he says. 

“I know you did. Sometimes we can’t do anything. It’s not your fault.” 

He makes a low sound. He’s a quiet crier, sniffling and shaking against your neck. 

You love him. Finding out he had a girlfriend was like being stabbed in the chest, an instant sickness, but finding out that she died? To see him in this much pain cuts deeper than a split second of thinking he’d moved on. 

“You did everything you could. You did the best that you could. Spencer, you could’ve done everything right and she still wouldn’t have made it, because the world is cruel. This isn’t your fault.” 

“It’s always gonna be my fault,” he says. 

“No, it won’t be.” 

“It will! I’m like a curse, we all are.” 

You don’t know what to say. You consider offering placatives, but they’d be empty, and Spencer would know. Instead, you scratch a hand through his curls and try your best to be gentle. 

“Well, I’m here for you. I know you know you have a whole team of people who want to be there for you, but I mean it, Spence. You can tell me everything. I’m here for you and I’m not leaving again.” 

“You don’t have to go back?” 

“I’m staying here.” For as long as you need me goes unsaid. 

Spencer should rely on the kindness of all of his friends, and not just you. He needs love. Grief is going to eat him alive, just like it did with Emily; he’ll need everything from everyone, and, no offence to your friends and coworkers, you’re the most committed to giving it to him. 

“I never should’ve left,” you say quietly, “but things are different now. You’re my best friend, Dr. Reid.” Your tone turns more playful. “I don’t cook for just anybody, you know?” 

Maybe it’s a bit cringeworthy, but you really want him to stop crying. 

He laughs weakly and wetly into your collar. “I don’t think I can eat it. I just throw everything back up.” 

Aw, honey, you think. “How about a thin soup? I can make you something without any heavy creams. I make the best chicken soup around.” 

“Do you?” he asks. 

You want to kiss his cheek as you would’ve before you left, but things really are different now. You settle for patting his shoulder. “I do. We’ll have chicken soup, and some fresh bread, and– and you won’t have to pretend you aren’t miserable. Promise. You can be as sad as you want, honey, I just wanna sit with you and make sure it doesn’t get too much.” 

“Thank you,” he mumbles. 

“It’s okay.” You don’t want a thank you. “I’m glad to be home. Do you think you can get dressed? Let’s go get some stuff for dinner.” 

Spencer, to your relief, gets up to get changed without complaint. He checks you’re still on the couch a few times from the doorway of his room. You have no plans on straying far. 

[allywthsr]

WRONG PERSON | (l.norris)

summary: you send a sexy video to some tinder guy, until you realize you tapped Lando‘s contact instead, you both help the other to finish what you started

wordcount: 2.4k words

pairing: landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: smut!, talking about toys, details about masturbation, phone sex, dirtytalk

notes: inspired by this!!! Tell me what you think, I‘m still scared to write smut, hope you all like this🫣

You were working for Quadrant, it wasn’t like you were some important boss or something, you mostly dealt with customers and sometimes got to plan a video, but Lando still took the time and got to know you. When the whole team went out for dinner, Lando talked to everyone for at least twenty minutes, he wanted to know who was working for him and his brand.

There was no denying you found him handsome, everybody thought he was pretty, but you needed to hide your excitement in your panties whenever he was near you. Not only did he make eye contact every time you two talked, but he also smelled delicious, you wanted to rip his clothes off, the whole time he was near you.

But back to where you were now, laying in bed naked, at almost one am, with your phone in your hand. You were single and desperate, texting with guys from Tinder, who were not worth more than a quick fuck, but you were young and had your needs.

With your phone in one hand, and your left boob in the other, you recorded a small video, where you were squeezing your boob and moaned slightly. You‘ve been snapchatting with a guy you met on Tinder, both of you were horny and needed a release, so why not help each other? You quickly wrote a text to the video, to make it more seducing, ’ You make me so wet…‘ and taped on the slot on Snapchat where he was for the last few snaps, before you could double check that you selected him, you hit sent and threw the phone next to you.

While you waited for his answer, your hand slowly made its way to your pussy, circling your wet clit. With a moan, you teased yourself and kept stopping the sensation in your most private area. When you heard the Snapchat notification tone, you took your phone in your hand and only saw that Lando send you a snap, it wasn’t unusual that he would snap you, you two were streaking after all, but at that time was a little odd, because you were kinda bored and waiting for your guy to reply, you withdraw your fingers from your wet cunt and opened Lando’s snap.

With a gasp, you threw away your phone, the first photo was a normal snap, a picture of his bedroom with some series on Netflix playing, but when you tapped on the screen to exit the snap, a new picture popped up. You could see his hand holding his boxershorts clothed dick, he was hard and big, long and thick. He also wrote a little text, you had to read it twice, making sure your mind wasn’t playing tricks on you, ’was this meant for me, babygirl?‘

You didn’t know what to do, so you did nothing for a few seconds, you didn’t feel horny anymore, suddenly aware of the cold air hitting your still-hot pussy. Should you reply and apologize, saying how you accidentally sent your boss a nude, and look him in the eye at the next dinner? Impossible.

You thought about leaving the country and starting all over again, where no one knew Lando, but that wasn’t a solution either, you had to face him and say that it wasn’t meant for him. But how can you get rid of the image in your head of his dick, the only thing that was roaming through your brain right now was how lucky his future wife would be. With a dick like that, she sure would be happy for the rest of her life.

You excited the snap and took a deep breath, what were you going to say, sorry I send you a nude, but your dick looks nice? No. It took you at least two minutes to think about it and when you took a picture of half your face and started writing a paragraph of apologies, your phone showed you an incoming call.

Lando Norris.

Shit. Your whole body tensed, you couldn’t answer, you just had to pack your things and go, leave London and Lando behind, but something in you didn’t want that, and after what seemed like hours, you did answer the call.

”Hey Lando, look uhm, I‘m sorry I sent you that video, it wasn’t meant for you, obviously. B…But thank you for responding, I mean that picture was nice, but I don’t think that this uhm professionalism between us should be broken. If.. if you want me to leave Quadrant, I‘ll do that.. uhm I’m sorry for sending you that, and I-“

”Y/N, will you stop rambling?“, his voice sounded like he was out of breath, you started shaking when you heard him speak.

”I‘m sorry, for rambling and sending you the video.“

He chuckled, ”Don’t be, maybe you could’ve seen by my response, that I wasn’t mad about it. Sure having your employee suddenly sending you a video where she squeezes her boob and moans, isn’t something I‘d expect, but you have beautiful boobs.“

You didn’t know what to say, so the only thing that came out of your mouth was a: ”Thank you?“, you could hear your heartbeat in your chest, the silence on the other line panicked you.

”But, maybe this is unprofessional of me now, but you left me in a kind of hard situation, Y/N. I bet you’re still wet if your fingers would slide between your legs, aren’t you?“

Your breath hitched, was this for real? Was Lando Norris, your boss, dirty talking to you?

”I..I don’t know, it was a pretty big shock to see you replying, I‘m not as horny as I was ten minutes ago.“

”Then I want you to glide your hand over your boobs and stomach, down to your pussy, I bet it’s pretty, and then tell me how wet you are.“

With a small sigh, you did what he told you, gliding over your boobs and stomach to your pussy, you touched your entrance slightly and felt yourself pulsating, you may not be as horny anymore, but your wetness said otherwise, maybe a part of you already found it hot that Lando actually replied to you.

”Fuck, I‘m so wet Lando.“

You heard a moan from the other line and some sheet rustling, ”Baby, I want you to touch yourself like you would do without me. Finger yourself, rub your clit, do whatever satisfies you. I‘m hard as a rock baby, I need to touch myself too, I wish you were here to do it for me.“

You did as Lando told you, rubbing your clit in circles and feeling yourself come closer to the edge, this whole situation was so hot, it turned you on so badly.

”Please touch yourself, Lando, I wish I was there to help you.“

”I could eat you out until you’re crying and begging me to stop because you would be overstimulated.“

Another moan escaped your mouth and slowly you let your fingers slip into you, which was no problem due to your wetness, but it wasn’t enough, you needed more, thankfully Lando seemed to know what you were thinking when he heard your unsatisfied moans.

”Do you need more baby? Are your fingers not enough, you need my dick to stretch you out?“

You let out whiny and breathy ’yes‘, this situation was so bizarre but hot at the same time.

”Do you have any toys, Y/N? I want you to use a toy on yourself.“

”I..I do.“

”Show me.“

”Can we switch to FaceTime? It’s easier, and I want to see you.“

Lando hummed and muttered a quick goodbye before the screen with the call disappeared, the only thing you could see on your phone now was the picture you took a few minutes ago, and before you could do anything else, the FaceTime call from Lando came in. You answered without thinking about it and you were greeted with a big and girthy dick, and your mouth watered a little. You held the phone up, so he could see your face and your boobs, which he commented with a quiet ’fuck‘.

”Show me your toys, baby.“

You quickly got up and propped the phone against your lamp that stood on the nightstand, while you looked under your bed to fish out the box with your toys. It wasn’t like you were some pornstar and had thousands of toys, but over the years you had collected a fair amount of little helpers.

By now Lando had switched back to his face, so you could see his little beard and his eyes, he kept biting his lower lip, while watching you.

You opened your box and grabbed the first toy you saw, a standard dildo, it was skin-colored and a bit longer and thicker than the normal ones. You showed it to Lando and he groaned, tilting his head back, ”Is that your favorite?“, he asked.

You shook your head and pulled out a pink satisfyer, it was a mixture of a vibrator and dildo, but it also had a clit sucking element. That one was your favorite, you had spent hours with this beauty, and it never left you hanging. ”This is my favorite, you don’t know how good this feels.“

”Tell me about it.“

”It’s so fucking good, Lando. This clit sucking thing? It feels like heaven, it gets me there within a few minutes, the fastest I‘ve ever had an orgasm.“

”I bet I could get you there faster.“

That statement left you with a smirk, only the thought of Lando going down on you, made your head spin, you needed that.

”I can see that you’re imagining it right now, I bet you taste amazing, I would finger you, while lapping at your clit, you would be so full.“

You shut your eyes, and whined, your pussy clenching around nothing.

”What else do you have in there?“

”I have a wand“, you lifted the typical wand and dropped it on the bed, ”I also have a rabbit vibrator, and this“, you lifted another pink vibrator, but this one was smaller.

”You know what this is for, Lando?“

”I‘ve seen it in porn“, he smirked, ”have you ever let someone control it while being somewhere public?“

You nodded, it was a vibrator that you would insert into your pussy and it could be controlled with an app, you‘ve only used it once with someone.

”I was on a date with someone from Tinder, and we‘d been sexting for days and I gave him the app and he controlled it over dinner, it was an experience and I loved it.“

”I want to control it in our next meeting, seeing you tremble over some video ideas is going to be fucking hot.“

Another wave of pleasure rushed through your body, you couldn’t believe you were talking that way with your boss, unbelievable.

”I want you to use that rabbit on you.“

You chuckled, and held the rabbit vibrator into the camera, ”This one?“

Lando nodded eagerly, with a smirk you opened your mouth, dared your tongue out, and licked a long stripe over the part that goes inside of you. After a few licks, you put it fully in your mouth and started sucking it.

You could see how Lando started touching himself again, his eyes closed every now and then and he let out small whimpers. This was your sign that you needed to touch yourself too, so you laid on the bed and flipped the camera to your lower part, where the vibrator was circling your clit. Lando also flipped the camera and you saw his dick that was already leaking pre cum, he moved his thumb over his tip every now and then while moving his cock through his fist, collecting the white fluid. Due to your wetness, the vibrator slipped inside of you with ease, you turned it on and gasped when you felt the vibrations.

”Do you like that? Having your pussy stuffed.“

”Yes, Lando, yes. I need you here next to me.“

”I need you too, wrapped around my cock, you would be screaming and keeping up the neighbors all night.“

With a loud moan, you could feel yourself getting closer to a release, the tip edging your clit made you almost scream and the way you moved the vibrator in and out of you, made you see stars. Lando also was about to cum, he saw that your pussy got wetter and wetter, your fluids squeezing out of your cunt every time the vibrator left it.

”I’m about to cum, Y/N. Show me your face, are you cumming soon?“

You moaned loudly again and flipped the camera, just like Lando did, “Yes, Lando, I wish it was you filling me so well.“

With a loud moan and a lot of curses, Lando spilled his cum all over his hand and stomach, he quickly flipped the camera again, now showing you the mess he created, “That’s all for you, baby, I wish it was inside of you instead on the stomach. Cum for me Y/N, let go.“

While he said those words to you, you felt yourself falling over the edge, with moans and grunts. Lando was sure he never heard something so sexy, those sounds alone made him horny again, he needed to feel you close.

When both of you came down from your highs, you two let out a laugh, realizing what you just did, you had phone sex with your boss, but it felt right and good, and the way his cum sat on his stomach, made you horny again, you needed him.

“You feeling better now?“

“Lando, you’ve no idea, so much better than the weird Tinder guy the video actually was for.“

“I bet, but I still need you, Y/N.“

“Are you in London?“

He hummed.

“Well, my bed is cold without you in it, if you want, my pussy is ready for you, Lando.“

“Send me your address, I’ll be over in ten minutes, you better not start without me, or you’ll get punished.“

Part two

taglist: @millinorrizz @jamieeboulos @loxbbg

[gyusrose]

➵ you’re so vain -> l.hs

⚠︎ smut (mdni)

✎ jock!heeseung x reader, enemies to ?????, heeseung is rlly annoying, hate sex ;), hair pulling, dirty talk, unprotected sex, degradation, backshots lmao. i think that’s it?

summary: attending a new school was supposed to be a fresh start for you, trying to be nice to everyone and have new friends, yet coming across lee heeseung threw all of that out the window.

(heeseung x fem.reader)

wc: 3.2k

your sweaty hands could not be gripping the steering wheel any harder. you wouldn’t call yourself “super shy” but when it comes to a whole new community of people, teenagers, hell yeah you are.

you had to move exactly at the middle of the year due to your mom’s work. they offered her double the salary at the other side of the city, who was she to say no to that? although you were going to miss your friends and the overall environment of your old home, you couldn’t just tell your mom ‘no’, either way her decisions are final.

you just got here two days ago, and to be honest, it wasn’t that bad. the worst thing so far is the fact that the nearest shopping center was 30 minutes away but you’ll live.

you didn’t except your first day of school to be so nerve-wracking. surely you’ll make some friends but who knows what people are like here. eventually, you saw the big navy blue sign with your school’s name on it. it was an averagely big school, bigger than your old one, which also meant more people.

the parking space alone was scary. it was huge yet already full even though it was still fairly early. you went around in circles around the parking lot, trying to find a vacant spot. fortunately you did at the second-to-last line.

as you tried to park, the limited space you had made it difficult to, having to back up and drive in constantly. as you reversed your car, you must have completely forgotten that you aren’t the only one there, feeling a small crash at the bumper of your car.

your eyes widened in panic. you looked back to see what you hit, and with your luck, it revealed at very nice black car, to which you’ve just hit. you tried to quickly get into your parking spot, hoping it was nothing serious, but then someone came walking up to you.

‘shit, that must be the owner’ you saw his red, rather handsome, fuming face.

you got out of your car to confront the first person interaction.

“hey look im so-“

“CANT YOU FUCKING DRIVE RIGHT? YOU HIT MY VERY EXPENSIVE CAR WITH YOUR THING, WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?”

oh he was an asshole. you almost scoffed in his face. who does he think he is.

“it was accident that’s all, it was barely a scratch calm down man.”

“IT WAS DEFINITELY A SCRATCH LOOK AT IT! JUST BECAUSE YOU KEEP YOUR CAR LOOKING ALL MISERABLE DOESNT MEAN I WILL, DO YOU EVEN HAVE A LICENSE?”

lord take me back. you were so close to just leaving him there arguing with himself. but you didn’t want to make him even angrier.

“look im sorry! i can pay for the fix up if that’s what you want, i dont know what else to do?”

the boy scoffed and rolled his eyes at your statement.

“you think i don’t have the money for it? please, it shows you’re a newbie around here.”

“i didn’t mean it like that-“

“yo heeseung!! come on bro!” another blonde boy called from afar, hopefully ending the argument y’all were having.

“ watch your back new girl.” with one last glare, he left to join his group of friends.

you rolled your eyes. shiver my fucking timbers, you thought.

you took a deep breath before grabbing your backpack and making your way into school , hoping to never see his face ever again.

>>

you thought that was going to be the end of it all. but oh boy were you wrong. soon you found out that heeseung is the captain of the football team, and pretty much the most popular boy in school. as cliche as it sounds, every girl would drop their panties if he asked them to.

people know he’s not the nicest person ( an asshole) yet they still look up to him. that’s angered you. how are all these people so dumb? just because he’s kinda good-looking? seriously?

over the course of a few weeks, you’ve managed to make some friends, your closest taehyun and Isa. although you tried to block the negativity, heeseung made it really hard. always giving you snarky comments when he saw you around, ridiculing you in front of other people. somehow always finding a way to run into you despite not having any classes together. except gym.

“ bro open your eyes, catch the damn ball!” he yelled from across from you.

you hated sports. even less could you play one, but you gotta do it for the grade.

“the ball was too high up dummy!” you retorted, rolling your eyes for maybe the 100th time in the class period.

if you hated gym before, you definitely hated it more now.

as the period ended, you decided to take a quick shower in the locker rooms since you couldn’t handle being all sweaty and gross throughout the day.

heeseung finished changing and was outside the locker room with his friends, chatting, waiting for the bell to ring. that’s when he may have accidentally eavesdropped the conversation between your two friends, he could barely the names of.

“where’s _____?” taehyun asked isa, noticing how you weren’t with her.

“she’s taking a shower right now, she told us to not wait for her.” Isa shrugged before taehyun nodded.

a beautiful idea popped in heeseung’s brain. it was too good.

he excused himself and sneakily waited by the girl’s locker room, waiting for everyone to come out. once he only heard the shower you were using running, he quietly entered the room. the bell had rang about a minute ago, so the gym was empty, only you and him. the gym teacher god knows where.

he saw his target and rapidly grabbed the pile of clothes sitting on the bench, a smirk evident in his face.

suddenly the shower stopped running, making heeseung hurry and exit the locker room.

the shower felt too good, you think you spent more time that you anticipated to. as you exited the shower tiles, you looked around for your clothes, which you remember clearly leaving them in the bench closest to the shower. you looked around the whole locker room, hoping you were wrong and placed them elsewhere. unfortunately, you couldn’t even find your damn socks.

your biggest fear has come true. you’re now naked, nothing but a towel covering you, this was more than just humiliating. you felt sad, mad, angry, embarrassed all at once. they’ve been stolen for sure, and you were more than sure on who did it.

grabbing your phone you called Isa, to see if she could help you somehow. and she indeed did. bringing you some spare clothes she had. thankfully, you always bring extra underwear since situations like these could happen. you just had to wait for isa for the clothes, yet the five minutes she took felt like five hours. unfortunately, passing period is over, meaning some students are coming in the locker room to change.

many of them just straight up stared at you. giving you weird looks as to why you were pretty much naked in the middle of the locker room, but none had the guts to ask you.

you wished the ground would just swallow you whole. lee heeseung won’t hear the end of it.

“LEE HEESEUNG!” you yelled across the field. he and his friends were siting down eating lunch outside when you spotted him after trying to find him after the stunt he just pulled.

heeseung knew it was coming, giggling with his friends as they heard you yell his name once again. “ oh she’s about to scold me now .” heeseung scoffed but still got up and went over to you.

“yes ma’am?” he said with a smile, you wish you could slap off but you’re better than that.

“YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID DO YOU KNOW HOW EMBARRASSING THAT WAS?”

“i have no idea what you’re talking about..” heeseung tried acting innocent but failed as he just burst out laughing. you groaned, how on earth is that funny?

“cute panties by the way” he continued to laugh, not sparing a glance at your mad expression on your face.

“you’re such an ass, i hate your guts.” you said leaving him alone, laughing to himself.

“yo bro i think she actually got mad this time.” his friend, jake came over.

heeseung shrugged. “she’s so sensitive, it wasn’t even that bad.”

“i can’t believe he did that…” taehyun said as you told them both what had happened. Isa knew a little bit but not who did it.

“that’s fucked up, what’s he got against you so much?”

you shrugged. “i guess because i gave his car a little scratch, but i guess he took it to heart since he hasn’t stopped bothering me since. he’s a jerk.”

“finally someone who thinks the same as me!” taehyun said making you chuckle.

“then get back at him! you know the one thing that makes him who he is is that damn football.” Isa said.

you tried to be the bigger person this whole time, not paying much mind to his little remarks or pranks he pulls, biting back a little wouldn’t hurt right?

“you know what, you’re right.”

“lee heeseung, mrs. park wants to speak to you.” mr.jung said calling heeseung.

heeseung who was barely paying attention heard his name. his frowned at this. what on earth could she want to talk about with him? either way, he went to her classroom.

he entered the empty classroom to find his coach and mrs.park, waiting for him. what the fuck? heeseung was more confused now. maybe they were going to congratulate him for the good work this semester? his coach’s face said otherwise though.

“there you are, you may be wondering why you’re here..” mrs.park started. heeseung nodded, feeling uneasy.

“a student came forward, showing how you copied word for word her whole assignment, the one i assigned a week ago. i didn’t notice it at first but it’s very clear now, you may know how cheating is unacceptable in my class, i’ve decided to fail you in this assignment, plus you’ll be serving detention this whole week..” she turned to the coach.

heeseung’s heart started beating at a rapid pace, he’s never been caught cheating, and being failed on the assignment that was a big part of his grade, it means he’s most likely failing the class now. the rules for football stated that all players should be passing all of their classes if not, they’ll be dropped….

no no no, the lee heeseung can’t be dropped. he’s the captain! the star player!

“since you’re failing this class heeseung, i think you know what’s about to happe-“

“please coach! don’t kick me out, i’m the captain! what would the team do without me? i’ll get my grade up as soon as possible im-“

“calm down calm down, i’m not going to kick you out, it’s the middle of the season, but unfortunately you won’t be playing the next three games. if your grade is not up by then, then i will drop you. understood?” his coach stated earning a sharp nod by heeseung.

he’s glad he’s still on the team but what’s the point if he can’t play? he’s going to become a joke. the captain that’s a bench warmer. how stupid.

he left the classroom enraged. he knows exactly who did this.

“bro what? what do you mean you ain’t gonna play ?” riki said in disbelief at what his captain just said.

“some snitch told mrs.park that i cheated on the last assignment and coach suspended me for the next three games, and i got detention all week!” sunghoon unknowingly chuckled. heeseung looked at him with a glare.

“what? she got you good, what did you expect hee?” sunghoon kept laughing, making some of the others also laugh silently.

heeseung had nothing to say back, he just rolled his eyes. “tch, whatever.”

nevertheless, you were overjoyed seeing heeseung slouching on the bench. you couldn’t miss this once in a lifetime scenario. obviously you were the cause for it. heeseung asks Isa almost all the time for her notes or to straight up copy her. she willingly let you rat him out after what he did to you.

he can sense how all eyes were on him, but he just tried to block everyone out a focus on the game. he had a poker face on, but deep inside he was irritated . he saw how you were smirking and laughing with your two little friends. you knew what you were doing.

>>

“ahh look who it is, the benchwarmer! “ you said chuckling as you made your way to heeseung.

after the team (barely) won, jake threw an ‘after party’ at his house. even though you don’t normally go to these parties, especially from those boys, you felt like a party would do good with your marvellous mood. something about seeing heeseung’s frowny face made feel over the moon.

“seems like cat got your tongue now huh? dont have anything to say-“

in a blink of an eye you were pulled into a room, heeseung’s fingers wrapped around your neck, pulling your face closer to his.

“what the fuck? heeseung-“

“shut the fuck up.” his hoarse voice caught you off guard. he was actually really mad.

“you think what you did it’s fucking funny? huh? almost getting me kicked out ? “ you’ve never seen him this enraged before. making you almost scared, yet….kinda turned on? no, you hate him, snap out of it! you told yourself yet the wetness in between your legs became hard to ignore.

you didn’t respond. “fuck, you’re so annoying, i can’t fucking stand you. i hate you.” he saw lowly. fuck that was hot.

you spoke before thinking. “then show me.”

not needing to tell him twice, heeseung pulled you completely in. your lips met in a kiss that was anything but gentle, a fierce and consuming clash that spoke longing and raw need.

The kiss deepened, fueled by an unspoken urgency, their mouths exploring each other with a fervor that left y’all breathless. his grip on your neck becoming tighter.

“shit im gonna show you to fucking behave.” he said before pushing you into the bed forcefully. you may have discovered a new kink of yours. watching as he undressed himself and yourself rapidly. feeling his anger through every touch he gave you.

he rubbed through your folds before inserting two fingers aggressively. your body jolted at the sudden move.

“holy shit go softer dumbass.”

“aw you think i give a fuck? suck it up and take it since you think you’re all that.” his fingers pumped faster and faster making it hard for you to answer back to his stupid remarks.

“oh my god..” you tried to pull his hand away before you cum. not wanting to see you orgasm so easily yet.

“just fuck me already heeseung, or is your dick as tiny as your brain?”

heeseung looked darkly at you. that stupid mouth of yours can’t shut up will it?

he retracted his fingers put of you and took his boxers off. wanting nothing more than to prove you wrong.

shit. your eyes went wide at what stood in front of you. saying he was big was an understatement. it was like a zipper for your mouth. how was that thing going to fit inside of you?

“can’t say anything now, can you slut?” he pulled your legs down the mattress to have you at the perfect angle to ram into you.

heeseung ran his til over your folds, teasing his way in. making you aggrevated.

“just put it in for fucks sake!”

“tell me how bad you want it.” you shook your head, no way were you going to beg. no way.

“alright then, i guess im gonna go.” he said letting go of your waist, acting as if he was going to leave.

“okay okay! please fuck me, i want it so bad, i want your big cock so bad heeseung.” heeseung moaned at your words. he didn’t wait any longer and thrusted all of him in you.

you both moaned yet it was more painful for you. you’ve never had something so big inside you before.

“fuck yeah..” he said then grabbing your neck, slightly choking you. your hands went to his biceps, trying to find something to hold on to as the speed he was thrusting in became more hostile.

“fuck me harder, like the asshole you are.” you said in between breaths. heeseung took the challenge and thrusted violently. the skin slapping and wetness of your core could probably be heard in the party outside.

“of course a whore like you would like to be fucked like this.”

before you could respond he pulled out of you earning a desperate groan from you, but then your were flipped, now on all fours and before you knew it he was back in you again. gripping your hip with one hand while he pulled your hair on the other.

“such a tight pussy, you probably fantasized about this am i right?” he said in your ear. you shook your head through your moan.

“in your dreams lee, in your fucking dreams. fuck you.”

“i’m quite literally doing that.” chuckling, he let go of your hair and instead gripped your other hip, going in deeper, nudging your cervix literally driving you to an edge.

“fuck i’m cumming.” you cried out. never has an orgasm felt like this. heeseung was on edge as well, feeling you clench around his dick did it for him.

your climax rose over you, making you fall into the pillow while heeseung kept thrusting until his own organs came over him, pulling out and releasing his white ropes all over your back.

tiredly, he laid besides you in the strangers bed, not knowing what to say now.

you turned to him, smirking. “i think i may hate you even more now.”

[ctrlhope]

Butterfly (m)

synopsis: he’s been watching you. waiting, stalking his prey. waiting for you to tangle your pretty little wings into his web. chasing you. hunting you. making you play his games until you realise the truth that lies behind your eyes.

j.jungkook x f.reader

୧ ‧₊˚┊: wc: 3.6k

୧ ‧₊˚┊: genre: yandere, serial killer au, college au, dark content

୧ ‧₊˚┊: content: yandere!killer!jk, dubcon, predator / prey, manipulation, fear play, mask kink, slight sub space, slight knife play, strangers to lovers, “public” sex, drug use (alcohol), mentions of blood / injury, threats, allusions to kidnapping, dom!jk, fingering, rough sex, he’s mean but still sweet, obsessed!soft!jk at the end <33

୧ ‧₊˚┊: notes: found this in my drafts back from halloween and i never posted it! so here you go, to hold you over until my long fics are done <33 halloween fic in april lmaooo

18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni -> dark content

Bum. Bum. Bum.

Your heartbeat is in your ears, pulse racing. It was too loud. Everything is too loud. It’s all you can hear. It’s all you can think about as your heels dig into the harsh forest floor. Your shoes long since been abandoned, mud caking your feet as you try to run. Tries to escape from the demon that had set his sights on you.

Him.

Fuck. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. It really wasn’t. It was just supposed to be a fun halloween party! You didn’t really even know if you wanted to go to it or not. But your friends convinced you with the promise of free drinks and guys that were ‘cute enough’ for some random frat.

What they failed to mention? The simple fact that house was in the middle of nowhere. On one side a lake, the other a massive forest.

Like a pretty little trap meant to catch girls like you. Web tangled in the trees just watching for the prettiest butterfly to find its way into. To be caught in the den of monsters that lined every wall of the ancient house.

You were already disturbed when your friend's pretty jeep turned off the main roads, trailing through the woods. Realising just how distant from the rest of society you would be. How every bump of the car sent your little heart into a deeper flutter of anxiety.

Still, you kept your mouth shut. You didn’t want to ruin the night— for yourself or your friends. You trust them. They promised it would be fun. Plus! Their boyfriends were going to be there! So nothing would go wrong!

Yeah. It really wasn't their fault that a lunatic set his sights on you. Wasn’t their fault you started dancing with a man in a mask. Let him lead you to the backyard for a smoke, dumbly followed him deeper into the woods to see his favourite spot. Let him stuff his fingers into your little hole without even seeing his face, knowing his name.

Nah, you did all that on your own. Just a little kitten being led to the slaughter house.

“Okay babydoll…” He breathes into your ear, pumping two fingers deep inside of your cunt. Skirt that was barely covering anything pushed too far up your hips, showing the whole forest just how tight your walls cling to his fingers. How wet you are. How desperate you are for more.

“We’re gonna play a game, yeah?” You’re hardly able to respond, consciousness laced with toxins from earlier that night. Flush to your cheeks evidence enough of just how much you drank— the series of events that led you to this exact moment.

One he had been planning for awhile.

He smiles, throat letting out a low, almost nonexistent laugh. Slowly circling your clit with his thumb, almost mocking the way your back arches. Finding amusement in the way your fingers cling to his arm as his thrusts continue all to slow.

You’re needy, too needy. He knows that well enough. Can tell with the way your hips start to rock, start to squirm. The way your body starts to get bratty on him while your mind is too far in the clouds to realise the position you’ve found yourself in.

You’re cute. Too cute for him to take another second of this. Too cute for him to hold back anymore.

Wouldn’t want you getting too bratty on him anyway, would he? Then his personal treat, the slice of cake he's been waiting weeks to cut into will have to turn into a punishment. Ruin all the fun he’s worked so hard to prepare.

“‘Gonna need you to run into the woods. Fast and as far as you can…” He groans under his breath, the mere thought sending blood straight to his cock, filling his mind with nothing but pictures of you dirty on the forest floor, “And you gotta do your best to stay away from me yeah? Cause if I catch you… I gotta kill you and I wouldn't wanna have to do that… You’re too pretty to kill, you know?”

Fuck. What the fuck is wrong with him? What is he even talking about?

You try to process– try to understand the words that run off his tongue. But it's unfair, everything is stacked against you as he slides the mask off his face. Gives you a first look at his deep brown eyes. Lets you see how gorgeous he is for the very first time.

He didn’t even give you a chance to recover before he started counting down from 30. Doesn’t even move his hand away from your dripping cunt until 20– the expression on your face just pathetic. So close yet so far from the finish line.

Your race was nowhere close to its end. He’d make sure of it.

It wasn’t until his hand found your hip, gently tapping against the skin that your brain even had the chance to attempt processing his words. Figure out the exact meaning behind them while his lips continued to count down with each syllable.

Such pretty pink lips. Maybe he would let you kiss them if you tried hard enough. If you lean up just right maybe he would–

Wait. Wait. What’s happening? What did he say to you?

Your eyes glance down to your thighs, vision dazed as you try to figure out the object that suddenly pokes at your flesh. The sharp tip grazing your soft skin as you take in the metal; polished to perfection. The deep black handle resting securely in his palm, holding himself back.

Your eyes widen, familiarity cresting your features.

Shit. Shit!

You don’t even think about grabbing your own knife until 15, hand quickly reaching for your hip where you keep it tucked away. Too bad he had already taken it, knew the tool you always carried with you well.

Shit, his own personal little Nancy, huh? Perfect for him.

Survival instincts had to take over for you, forcing your feet to the ground. Urging your skirt down as low as it could possibly go as your legs take off in a direction you hope is the house.

Everything is all too much, it’s not enough. Every little sound is getting to you, making you feel like you’re going crazy. Making you feel like none of your senses can be trusted. Like nothing can be trusted except for the adrenaline pumping through your veins.

The woods– everything looks the same. You can't distinguish one thing from the next but you know you hear something getting closer. Too close.

If his words meant anything you need to keep fighting, keep trying to live. Even as pain stabs into your toes, sticks break under your feet. Even as you’re stabbed by bushes.

It was like the forest itself was out to get you. Like whatever beast behind it is your real enemy in all of this.

Maybe you can pretend it, maybe in your alcohol-addled brain that’s a little easier to manage than the man running behind you. The one with hunger in his heart that only your soul can satiate.

You try, you really do. But your legs can only move so fast. Can only take so much abuse before they start to slow. Lungs can only inhale so much air before they want to collapse.

Too bad he’s done this before. He can run.

And just as you start to be able to see the lights from the tree line, just as hope starts to fill your little heart, you’re forced into the dirt. Two arms wrap around you from behind, tackling your frame to the ground.

Your back presses against his chest as he keeps you there, his face right next to your ear as he pants. Breathe heavy in your ear, hearing the way it cracks every once and awhile as he tries to catch his breath. Lips almost on your ear while he keeps you there. Keeps you trapped under him.

Everything is starting to conflict in your pretty little head, body telling you to get away. Try to get him off. Wriggle your hand— anything out to try and fight back. Try and get away before he keeps his promise from before.

Yet, with every movement, every slight twist of your spine or kick of your legs under his heavy frame he only presses tighter, deeper against you. Presses his cock against your barely covered cunt. Makes you feel every inch of him that he plans to stuff inside. Make you unable to breathe while the rocks dig into your skin.

You put up a good fight, you really do. Better than anyone else. It’s too bad everything is going just a little bit haywire behind your eyes. The world starting to feel like a burden as you try to push away the arousal rushing to your gut.

Shit, you should be scared. Should be petrified of the psycho that took you into the woods, the psycho that threatened to kill you no more than ten minutes before. One that had a knife pressed to your skin and a scythe around your heart. But the chemicals in your brain are mixing into something that you can’t comprehend, can’t describe.

Everything feels like too much, he feels like too much and you have no clue what to do. Head completely gone to mush.

It’s almost easier that way.

“Almost got away, doll. But don’t worry. I’ve got you now.” His voice is rough, harsh as he tries to catch his breath. Teeth clamping against the crest of your ear, hips rolling against your cunt without a care in the world. Especially not for the state of your head. Not for the little world you find yourself slipping away into.

Too many extreme emotions happening will do that to you, won't they? Make you so confused that you’ll just take whatever you can manage. Even if that means plunging his blade into your pretty little heart or fucking you until your pussy wouldn’t even consider another filling it.

He prefers the latter. Too pretty for the former, huh?

He can feel the shift in your frame– one of extreme discomfort, entirely tense to one of a docile little pet put on display. The shift behind your eyes as everything becomes too much, little too difficult to understand. As you slip away just enough to make any feelings of pleasure elevate to new extremes. Let fear spur you on.

The only thoughts in your head are ones filled with him. The way it should be. Exactly should be.

Your hips move again, their last attempt to break free from his spell. Their last attempt to try and get away from the maniac. Yet it does nothing more than press his cock harder against your ass, the mock of a grind against the surface that leaves a pretty little mewl spilling from your lips. A grunt catching in his own.

Wow, you actually surprised him.

“Shit, not patient at all huh?” He smiles, lip quirking as he removes his body from you. Removes the only warmth provided in this hell.

You won't run. Not if you know what's good for you.

He doubts you do– led you right into his arms tonight. But that's okay. He can take over for you. Take over everything.

Hands grip your hips, pull you back against him. Let you imagine how sweet he could fuck you if you just behave. The soft rocking of hips against your own, the gentle way he moves compared to the way he holds you heavy on your mind.

You can’t help the moan that spills past your lips. The way your back arches to meet him better. No one could blame poor little you. No one could blame your mind turning off for just a little bit. Not when he has you. Not with the rough texture of his pants pushing against your cunt. Not with the ruined orgasm of before.

Arousal makes your panties stick uncomfortable to your skin. A disturbing wet patch forming against his own pants where you meet. A flutter erupting in your gut at the way he groans. Way he moves you with such ease.

He really could kill you if he wanted to.

You’re not sure if the realisation scares you or spurs you on.

It scares you more to know that it's the latter.

“I’m not either.” He huffs, air thick with fog, “Been too patient for you. Too fucking patient.”

He grunts, pushing your hips back. Back arching even farther against the forest floor. It almost hurts, it’s almost painful. Not that that really matters. Nothing matters when he grips the flesh of your ass, pulls the cheeks apart. Gets a good look at the mess he’s made of you. Can see clearly how wrecked his little girl is.

Pretty panties sticking against your cunt, thighs wobbly from all the effort of tonight. Shit, if he just hooks his finger under them, pulls them to the side he’ll get to see you all. Get to see your puffy lips, fluttering little hole. Get to fuck himself inside while you just lie there and take it. Get so drunk on his cock you might just fall in love.

Shit, maybe you already have, huh?

Good.

He forces your underwear to the side, stares in awe at the way your slick sticks to them. Imagines how pretty they’d look stuffed with his cum. How you’d tumble around the house, not letting a drop spill just for him.

Because you would know it’s what he wants.

“All of this for me?” He smiles, rubbing his thumb through your folds. Collecting your essence, spreading it around all messy just how he likes. How he knows you’ll like soon enough.

You can only whimper, clutch the ground as your head spins. Tries to catch up with every little minstration he makes. Tries to figure out what exactly is happening. What words he’s saying. How to get him to stop, if you want him to stop.

A shiver runs down your spine. You don’t think you do.

You’re not sure of anything anymore. Only the sound of a zipper running down, the shuffle of pants forced off hips. The hard head of a cock running against your folds like it owns them. Like it was made for them.

The stretch as he forces himself inside. The way it burns, stings with effort. The short, forceful movements as he fucks himself inside. Makes home in your cunt for no one else but him. Makes you unable to think of a soul other than him. Ruin you for all other men that come after.

God he must be big– how fucking big? You have no clue. You wish you could see. Look into those pretty, crazed eyes. Focus on the little mole under his lip as the pain turns into pleasure. Morphs something dark in your brain to like it, to take it just like a good girl. Make you crave him more than anything else.

But instead you stare at the dirt. Hands clutching at the surface as he fucks himself inside. Deeper and deeper with each slow calculating thrust. Fucks you full of whatever twisted definition of love he possess. Makes you see the light, the exact shimmer in his eyes. See that this is the only way to truly live.

“Shit, baby,” His voice is low, deeper than before as his hips finally meet your own. Finally fills you with nothing else other than him. “Been waiting too fucking long for this. Had to make me wait, huh? Fuck.”

His voice harsh, grip bruising as he tries to hold himself back. One last measly reprise he’ll allow you. One last second he’ll give you before he makes you completely dumb. Makes you see what he knows you need to.

“I-I don’t~” You whimper, though the words fall on deaf ears. Not that it mattered anyway, you didn’t even know what you were trying to say. Didn’t know anything except for the way your walls clamp around his cock. Body begging for him, urging him to start and never stop.

He sighs, dramatic, “Little slut, huh baby?”

A harsh thrust punctuates his words, jolting your body forward as you cry. Impatience, ecstasy? He isn’t sure which. Only can notice the way your fingers clench and unclench in the dirt. The way your pussy flutters around him.

“Aww…” He soothes, hips dragging out of your cunt before slowly thrusting back in. The pace slow, antagonising, “Poor thing is having a hard time…” His hips quicken a hair, pretty sounds falling from your lips at the movement.

“Gotta tell me what you need, baby. I can make it all happen then.” A low kiss is placed against your shoulder, the world crumbling around you.

You break.

“Please…” Your voice is soft, too soft, but he hears it. Feels himself cracking as you beg, feels himself lose his mind entirely.

Beg for him. Want him.

His hips suddenly snap, fucking himself into your cunt with force you never thought a human could possibly manage. Fast, hard. Pumping his cock into you to search for his own pleasure. His own release. Forcing you to take it, take all of him while you try to keep up. Try to find your own pleasure in the tangle of limbs.

You hate how easily you do. Or maybe you love it.

“God, fuck.” He can’t suppress his own moans, the feeling of your pussy wrapping so tight around him, squeezing him for all he’s worth is too much. Fills his head with even more nonsense about love. About destiny.

His hips would never even consider stopping. You feel too good. Feel too tight around his cock, feel like he should never stop fucking you. Keep you there forever.

“So perfect. So perfect for me,” His breath is harsh, his heart racing as your little sounds only spur him on. Let him know just how good you feel. Just how far you’ve fallen. Just how much farther you’re willing to drown in all things Jungkook.

“P-Please!” You whine, hips arching further. Moving him into the perfect position to scrape against your g-spot with every rough pound of his hips. No clue what you’re pleading for. No clue what you want other than him.

Don’t even know his name. Nothing other than how incessantly you crave him.

“Fucking brat.” He cusses, eyes pinching into a glare as you somehow clamp down tighter. Walls pulling him back in on every thrust. Milking him for everything he’s worth. Making sure you both know your place in this. Know your place after it, too.

“God, been waiting for this haven’t you?” He groans, hips stuttering. He’s too close, “Been waiting for me to fuck you like the pretty doll you are? Make me take everything from you?”

You can only manage a whine in response, cunt fluttering around him. Obsessing in his praise.

Maybe his words are true. Maybe he’s known the exact type of person you are since the moment he first saw you. Maybe he’s right. This is where you’re meant to be. Meant to be with him.

“Shit, yeah. I fucking knew it.” His voice cracks, “Call you a minx but we both know that isn’t true. Just don’t know how to think until you’re stuck on the end of a cock.”

His thrusts somehow pick up speed. Fuck you harder, deeper. He’s sure he could place his hand over your tummy, feel himself fucking you. Shit.

“My cock.” He growls, voice heavy in your ears.

You can't take it anymore. Can’t take another second of it. Nerves tied tight into knots explode, white dotting the corner of your vision as you moan for no one else other than him. Pleasure courses through your veins, pussy pulling him as he falls apart alongside you. A tsunami pulling you under, making it hard to breathe. Making you feel dead and alive at the same time.

Maybe the forest gods were the ones tormenting you. Making you feel better than you had ever thought possible before. Allowing you to see the light of the stars dancing in the sky, so far above the clouds with his cock still pressed so deep inside. Floating through the air as your orgasm runs through you.

He’s no better. A shell of a man as he slowly fucks him cum deeper into your cunt. As deep as you’ll allow. Marking you. Claiming you. Making sure you know your place, even as you finally collapse onto the floor. Finally come back to reality. Poor body too spent to focus on anything else.

It’s okay though, you don’t have to worry. Not about a thing.

He’ll take care of you. Fix you up nice and pretty for your next lesson. Take you away to his apartment, make you fall in love for real. Keep you there, with him, just like you’re meant to be.

Make all of the sick sides you try to hide come out to play. Make you realise you’re just like him.

He wouldn’t kill you. Ever. Even if he had killed the others, none of them matter. He’s been waiting for someone like you for so long. Itching to bring you home. And finally, finally you had fallen into his trap. His perfect little butterfly, caught in the web. Ready to be corrupted by the vicious spider. Ready for your wings to be clipped.

“Mine.”

© all rights reserved to ctrlhope 2019-2024 ; do not copy, plagiarise, or translate.

[hihomeghere]

Dreams | Arthur Morgan/Reader

Word Count : 1.1k Summary : Arthur starts having dreams of starting a family with you Warnings/tags : Cursing, fluff, mention of infidelity, just Arthur being a sweet guy <3

He knows he shouldn’t feel like this. Shouldn’t be having these thoughts, because all they are just dreams. They’re never going to become a reality. Not when they’re constantly on the move, running from place to place. He sees the way it affects Jack, poor kid, not knowing what the hell is going on. And his daddy doesn’t exactly help him understand. 

He can’t even say he would be a better father, he wasn’t before. 

Hell you two ain’t even married yet, and he’s not that much of a fool. Not anymore. His regret for not marrying Eliza weighs heavily on him most days, even if he didn’t love her in that way. Now you on the other hand, he loves you more than anything. More than this stupid gang, more than life itself. He would happily lay down his life if he knew you would be happy, safe. 

When these thoughts enter his head, he can’t say. His days sort of blend together, making it hard to pinpoint. Although seeing you interact with Jack doesn’t help. 

You are so sweet, so motherly, hell you even mother the younger folks in the gang. Soft touches, kind words, but internally strong. You have all the qualities he finds attractive in a woman. Somehow you fell for him just as hard as he fell for you. 

But he ain’t a fool, he knows this ain’t the right time or place. So instead he writes down all these dreams in his journal, his safe place. The place where he can say anything without being judged. He dreams of little girls, he didn’t know how to interact with Isaac. Too afraid of being his own father. Girls seem less daunting, and a little you would be perfect. He already has one angel, what’s one more?

He comes up with the name while north of Brandywine Drop. The bright purple flowers caught his eye just off the trail.

Violet.

Violet Beatrice Morgan.

His heart sings, scribbling the name down in the margins of his journal. He finds himself writing VM in his journal, smiling foolishly to himself. It’s beautiful, his precious flower. 

It’s not like you meant to snoop. You were looking for Arthur, since he was nowhere to be found. You entered his tent, which in reality wasn’t much of a tent at all, finding his journal open. You walked over to it, looking over the worn page. There were the normal doodles he drew, along with his flowing hand writing. But one thing stood out to you, a pair of initials circled by hearts. VM.

You furrowed your brows, you couldn’t think of anyone you knew with the initials VM. Those definitely weren’t your initials either. 

With your curiosity peaked you flipped through a couple more pages. VM was written everywhere, along with those damn little hearts. 

You felt that little green monster grow inside you the further you looked into his journal. Biting your cheek so hard you could taste blood. It did nothing to quench the fire inside of you. 

“Darlin?” Arthur called walking into the so-called tent. You dropped the journal back onto the table, turning to face him. “There you are.” He grinned walking towards you.

“Here I am.” You said forcing a smile.

“Hosea said you were looking for me.” He said softly, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, "Anything you need?”

“Must have forgot.” You said with a noncommittal shrug, “I ought to get back to work.” You nod walking past him. Arthur furrowed his brow at your attitude. Did he say something to offend you?

Then his eyes fall onto his open journal. His stomach drops at the sight. Jesus, you saw. You saw all of it. You were probably thinking the worst, seeing the initial surrounded by hearts. How was he gonna fix this?

You stomped off to the edge of camp, trying to wrack your brain as to who this VM could be. And why was Arthur drawing hearts beside the initials? Maybe you had this all wrong, Arthur would never do anything to hurt you. He was a good man, a man you could trust. Wasn't he?

“Y/n!” He called trailing behind you, a crestfallen expression on his face. You stopped at the tree lining, biting your lip as you turned to face him. “I can explain.”

“I’m sure you can.” You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I-“ He sighed looking down, pinching the bridge of his nose as he let out a low curse. 

“Who is she?” You asked clenching your jaw. He furrowed his brows looking up at you.

“What?” He asked, his hands settling on his hips.

“VM, the girl you keep drawing hearts around. Who is she?” You were blunt, something he loved so much. Always telling it like it is, never leaving him to guess your feelings. A small smile spread on his face, which only made you more mad. “Seriously, you think this is funny?” You hissed, taking a step towards him. Arthur only had one choice, to tell you the truth. 

“Violet.” He said softly, reaching for you. “Violet Morgan.” You let him wrap his hand around your forearm, pulling you close to his chest.

“Who is Violet Morgan?” You asked, swallowing thickly. He sighed, looking off to the side, wetting his lips.

“She’s uh-“ He shook his head, a nervous smile on his lips. “She’s not exactly real, not yet at least.” He said. 

You shook your head, brows knitted together, “Not real? The hell you mean, not real?”

“I-“ He rubbed the back of his neck looking down, “It’s uh- shit.”

“Spit it out Morgan.” You huff throwing your arms up. 

“I thought of a name,” He explained, “A name for a girl if we- if we have one some day.” He said with a shrug, his cheeks flushed, almost as though he had been in a scuffle. 

Oh.

If we have one some day. 

“Oh Arthur.” You said softly, a smile spreading across your face. Feeling suddenly very foolish for doubting your man. “That's so sweet.” You took a step forward, tilting his face up to look at you. 

“Yeah?” He asked, looping his fingers in his gun belt. 

“Yeah.” You repeated, nodding. “Jesus you had me scared you were gonna tell me you found someone else.” You chuckled, shaking your head.

“Never. There ain’t no one else in this goddamn world that could replace you.” He said his hand reached up to cup your face. “You’re uh- you’re it for me darlin.” His bright blue eyes peered into yours, love and affection pouring out in his expression. 

“When we have our girl.” You said brushing away a stray strand of honey brown hair, “Violet will be a perfect name.” He grinned, wrapping a hand around your waist.

“Guess it’s settled then.” He said as he leaned down to press his lips against yours.

[augustinewrites]

sweet nothing ft the fushigojos to make up for the last fic i wrote for them heh

gojo satoru was not made for domesticity. this has always been something you've known, something you've accepted.

you're just not sure that he has.

it's a little past midnight when he trudges into your bedroom, tired lines creasing his pretty face as he shuffles around the room. he greets you with a quiet hey, and a peck on the forehead before stripping off his uniform, tossing it into the basket with a little more force than necessary.

you raise a brow at him, but stay quiet as he stalks into the bathroom. in the years that you've been together, you've learned better than to back an emotionally repressed sorcerer into a corner and force him to say how he's feeling. especially one who’s just gotten back from assignment.

you try and fail to return to the novel you were reading, staring blankly at the page until gojo steps out. his hair is damp, a towel slung low around his waist as he digs around in the closet for underwear.

there’s no pageantry, no winks or eyebrow waggles or light teasing of, like what you see? stuff that would usually make you roll your eyes, but that you suddenly realize has been missing lately.

okay, something is definitely wrong.

so you shut your book, placing it on the nightstand as he crawls into bed next to you. he says nothing, simply reaching across you to flick off your lamp and plunge the room into darkness.

it’s with a heavy sigh that he rests his head in your lap, grabbing your hand and plopping it into his hair before hugging your legs.

"i can't go to okinawa with you guys tomorrow.”

“satoru,” you can’t help but frown, carding your fingers through his hair. “we’ve been planning this trip for months.”

“i know, i’m sorry,” he says, strained. “you should just take the kids without me. take shoko, or something. megumi’s already stocked up on his spf, and tsumiki was really looking forward to picking seashells—”

“satoru,” you interrupt when you catch his voice break. “are you— are you okay?”

he’s crying, you realize when he doesn’t respond, instead pushing his head deeper into your lap, muttering, “no.”

“talk to me,” you murmur, smoothing your hand down his spine.

"i don't want the kids to think that i didn't want to go."

"you've been talking about seeing me in a bikini for weeks, i think they know how badly you wanted to go."

your comment pulls a small laugh out of him, but it's still interrupted by a sniffle.

"what's this really about?" you ask softly.

"i've been...missing things lately," he mutters quietly. "little league games, piano recitals, science fairs. i leave before they're awake, i get back when they're about to go to bed."

sorcerers who are referred to as 'the strongest' don't get days off. they go where they're needed, when they're needed.

"you know they don't hold any of that against you."

"i know," he says, sitting up to look at you. "but i don't want them - or you - to feel like i'm not choosing you. because i would, but i can't. and i'm just tired. of all of it--"

you wrap your arms around him when his voice breaks once more, pulling him into a hug. he reciprocates immediately, hiding his face in the crook of your neck as he releases a shaky sigh.

"it's not just about being there for the big things," you murmur. "it's about...being there when they need you to be. i can't hit a baseball to save my life, so you're the one who takes them the park to practice. you're the one who taught tsumiki how to read sheet music, and found a way to explain the concept of infinity to a ten year old so he could win the science fair."

without him, there would be no little league games, piano recitals, or science fairs to attend.

"besides, we can always go on vacation some other time," you assure him, rubbing circles across his back. "it's not worth it if you're not with us."

_____

satoru wakes to the sound of muffled laughter. a quick glance at the alarm clock on his nightstand confirms that it's 7am.

the lack of warmth pressed into his side tells him you're up too. it's rare that anyone is awake before he is, especially on weekends or days that he's set to depart. he can hear bits of your conversation with the kids as he gets ready for the day, changing into his uniform and shoving clothes into a bag.

"what shape should i try to make?" he hears you ask. ah, you must be making pancakes.

"a heart!" tsumiki suggests.

"japan!" megumi argues.

he knows you're going to make both. you're doing so when he saunters onto the scene, humming along to whatever song tsumiki's put on the record player as you drop chocolate chips into the batter.

he sweeps your hair away from your neck, dipping his head down to press a kiss to the nape of your neck.

then he turns to the kids, who are in the process of setting the table. "did, uh, you guys already talk about okinawa?"

tsumiki nods, but megumi just shrugs, wrinkling his nose. "there are a lot of jellyfish there anyway."

he of course goes on to inform everyone of the different kinds of jellyfish and all the horrible ways they could kill you. tsumiki chimes in to say that they won't attack unless they're bothered.

you press a mug of coffee into his hand, standing on the tip of your toes to kiss to his cheek before joining the kids at the table with a plate of pancakes.

the scene that unfolds in front of him is a simple one, but one that he's dreamed of all his life. a family sitting together for a meal, laughing and chatting about things that don't really matter.

the world's always going to need him. but this? this is all he needs.

because gojo satoru wasn't made for domesticity, but for his family? he'll try.

[l0starl]

✦﹒𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝟒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ıllı

how your s/o shows their affection to you (not all have dialogue it's just Jing yuan)

SPOILERS FROM 2.5 AT JIAOQIU'S PART

a/n: its like 12:31 at night...if anythings wrong that's why.

₊ ⊹ ݁ Feat: Jing yuan, Jiaoqiu, Dan heng + honorable mentions

w/c in total: 571

JING YUAN

"Jing Yuan, I need to get going. I'm already late to the alchemy commissions!" You said urgency, but he didn't budge one bit! His hands were on your hip, his face nuzzled into your neck as he let out a content sigh. "Wouldn't you want to stay in my office with me and take the day off" He suggested a faux pout forming on his face as he spoke.

"I may not have people waiting for my services today, but you are a general. You have lots of work to catch up on don't you?" You raised a brow, and Jing Yuan only hummed in response, His eyes met yours briefly.

"10 more minutes..?" He suggested with his signature smile, his fingers tracing delicate circles on your waist, you were already late to work and you didn't want to be any later. But since you weren't technically needed, it wouldn't hurt to spend ten more minutes with him, right?

"Alright then, ten more minutes and I'm leaving, Got it?"

"Of course dear" He smiled, leaving a tender kiss on your cheek.

w/c: 181

JIAOQIU

After you found out Jiaoqiu lost his sight, you did everything you to help him, mentally, or physically. In the beginning, he claimed he was 'content' clearly not after all that traumatic stuff he went through

One thing that Jiaoqiu would do regularly is hold onto your hand, just to feel any form of contact with you, to know you're there right beside him.

Another thing he does is wrap his tail around you to feel closer while cuddling, when you're cooking something for him, doesn't matter.

He enjoys the sound of your voice, whether it is about work, cooking, or something you're passionate about, he can always hear the smile in your voice! It makes him feel more connected to you, just like old times.

There's not much both of you can do, but know that he appreciates you dearly and how you've been nursing him.

w/c : 147

DAN HENG

Dan Heng would mostly be affectionate with you when you both are alone whether it's just a simple kiss or lying his head on his shoulder.

At some point, you made two bracelets, one for you and one for him of course. And oh boy did he cherish it, he would always take it off very gently, careful not to stretch it too much or let anyone even touch it! earlier March 7th wanted to see it but he quickly moved his hand saying it was off limits

though it did break one day and he questioned if it was fixable or was the damage already done. You reassured him that you'd fix it and return it the next day to him. He may not show it in his expressions much but he loves you a lot.

w/c: 138

HONORABLE MENTIONS

AVENTURINE

Aventurine brought a promise ring for the two of you to match and show off, your's was a golden one, his was a purple one. You were his lover, so of course he's gonna spoil you rotten!

New clothes? of course, bags? you got it. Anything you want and he'll make it happen!

When you both went to casino's you were practically his lucky charm, while he played you sat down beside him watching, each game getting tenser than the last. every time he won he says 'it was all because of you of course'

One things for sure, you both make a great pair

w/c: 105

thanks for reading!!

[larkthorne]

wow a post vaccine baby is no joke! Haha I'm in danger dot gif.....

[aireia]

pretty. — shopping for your wedding gown went a little wrong.

tw/cw: tooth rotting fluff, not proofread, fluff/crack, reader wears a dress + satoru calls them his future wife —masterlist

you smile and place your palms under your chin, wondering how you got to this point. your snowy haired fiancé is currently twirling around with a custom tailored wedding gown… which he wasn’t going to be wearing on your wedding day anyway, because he would never hear the end of it from his first year trio. okay, yuji probably wouldn’t have said anything, but nobara and megumi would bully him out of his own wedding. without a doubt, 100 percent.

your mind tried running through the events that had unfolded over the past two weeks, finally stopping at where everything started.

-

“pretty.” 

those were the only words that satoru gojo had to say the moment the both of you had found the perfect wedding dress for you. detailed right down to the final bits of the dress, it matched you perfectly with your favourite flowers weaved into the design, just the perfect length… it was everything you were looking for.

the sound of your soft laughter brought him out of his awestruck expression. “thank you, but as much as i love it, it feels just a little uncomfortable.” you sounded a little disappointed, and satoru couldn’t help but notice every little shift and movement you made… especially that mischievous look in your eyes and grin plastered on your face the moment you thought of a ‘solution.’ 

“maybe you should be the one in a dress at our wedding. i’m sure the strongest can handle a little bit of discomfort.”  

now, you and gojo had known each other for probably more than a decade. he knew better than anyone else that you were joking. but you were basically challenging him with that last sentence, right? 

he abruptly stood up from the couch he was sitting on once you had gotten to changing out of the wedding gown before marching off to one of the nearby employees and asking about any dresses his size, only to be met with the response of, “this is an unusual request, but there are quite a few dresses that would compliment you-” the employee coughed a few times before continuing, “-but we are closing soon, so there might not be enough time to try them on-” 

“i'll take all of them.”

“pardon?”

“including the one my future wife chose. okay thanks!”

the total came up to about 1.2 million yen. for a dress for you and those 3 gowns the employee picked out, it horrified everyone present at the counter. everyone but him, of course. 

back to present time, that’s how you found yourself being the one and only audience member for your beloved’s fashion show. for a good reason, you wanted to chew him out for spending that recklessly. then again, this is the same guy who decides to buy two of the same items no matter how expensive it is “just in case the other one goes missing.”

you sigh softly before turning your attention back onto him. he’s currently trying on the final dress, and has finally got rid of the sunglasses. you can’t help but admit that he actually looks good in the dress, sparkling with all the right types of gems and jewels, paired with his now visible long eyelashes, he looks pretty. 

“so? how do i look!!?” satoru asks with enthusiasm, spinning around you in circles. 

“hmm, maybe i should be the one wearing your suit that day instead,” you jokingly say to him. he understood, laughing before ruffling your hair. 

“as if i’d let you.” a comfortable silence filled the air afterwards, being broken afterwards by satoru confessing, “i dream of seeing you wearing that in front of me at the altar, you know?”

your eyes at this. you weren’t expecting him to say something like that so sudden. 

“i can wear it at night when-” satoru’s sentence was cut off by a light punch to his gut. 

“hell no.”

by user @ aireia, do not plagiarize and/or translate.

@rninies still can't write fluff unfortunately, writing this fried my brain

[yesimwriting]

thinking about bestfriend!felix who's known for being touchy within his social circle, so when he holds your hand as you walk around campus and leaves giggly kisses against your cheek, your jaw, your neck after a few drinks, you think nothing of it.

especially because it comes up in conversation from time to time. everyone that hangs out with him regularly enough has at least one story: felix smoothed circles against my back until i fell asleep on the bathroom floor after a party; he's kissed the top of my head twice; i've never seen him end a hug first.

and you've seen things--at parties, while studying, while out with friends in general. so you genuinely have no reason to think there's anything strange or different about the way he treats you, and neither does anyone else.

at first.

one night, when you're still new enough to felix and his world that you feel extremely out of place at a party that he invited you to, he calls you over to where he and his friends are sitting. you walk over to them, greeting everyone politely before moving to take the available space next to felix.

he grabs your wrist before you can actually sit. you're confused, but given little time to react. felix mumbles an absentminded, "c'mere" before pulling you towards his lap. it's a little flustering, but you sit, because that's just how felix is.

okay. normal enough. conversation continues. no one thinks twice about it. farleigh thinks it's a bit of overkill, but just assumes it's a combination of alcohol and maybe an attempt at laying the groundwork to hook up with you a little later in the night.

then, someone asks about potential vacation plans over break and farleigh brings up an inside joke from the last trip he and felix went on. it's casual, but it's clear that felix is supposed to say something.

farleigh looks over in time to see felix holding one of your hands to his lips. alright. still not the most egregious display of platonic affec--felix takes his time pressing kisses to each of your knuckles.

it's not just the gesture. it's the way felix watches your reaction through his lashes and the amount of care in his focus. as if you're the only one in the room. there's a patience there that's practically devoted.

maybe farleigh had it wrong. he thought you were just one of those platonic friends that felix would cart around for a few months before getting bored. maybe it's more romantic, or at the very least sexual.

then felix's eyebrows draw together. "you're cold." you start to say that you're fine, but before you can get the words out, felix is holding both of your hands between his.

in the beat that it takes farleigh to recover from the slightly nauseating display, the rest of the group has gone quiet. they're all watching felix dote on you like you're the reason for the moon hanging in the sky. annabel whispers something about the "unsuspecting".

farleigh eventually tries again, directly stating felix's name. he finally looks up, a little confused, as if coming out of a trance. farleigh repeats his earlier comment, finally getting a reaction from felix. the group recovers because while the moment had been almost uncomfortably intimate for something so casual, this is far from the first time felix has started (casually) seeing an 'outsider'.

some time passes and you finish your first drink. when felix notices, he asks if you want another. you tell him that you don't mind getting your own, but felix is insistent. you stand so that he can get up.

a part of you wishes you could have found an excuse to go with him. the gesture, in theory, is nice, but without felix's protection, being left with his friends feels like he's thrown you to the wolves.

annabel, a little tipsy and now curious asks, "so, how long have you and felix..." she trails off with a knowing look.

you kind of get what she's implying, but it feels like too random and too unfitting of an assumption to be accurate. "oh, we've been friends since around right after syllabus week, felix ask--"

"no," she shakes her head, "i mean--" she tries again, this time asking with precise language.

your face grows a few degrees warmer. "oh." the slight laugh that follows the syllable is too genuine for it to be you playing coy. "no, it's not--we're friends."

friends. you genuinely believe it. annabel fixes you with a tight lipped smile that makes something in your stomach knot.

you decide that her question must have been prompted by you sitting on felix's lap. you've also heard enough stories about them to assume that they have an on again off again, sort of thing, and because you really don't want to make an enemy of her, you try to justify it, "that was just--you've known him way longer, he's just like that."

oh my god. he's fooled you. completely convinced you that that's normal. before annabel can really react, felix comes back. he hands you your drink and kisses your cheek before sitting down next to you. he doesn't ask you to go back to where you were sitting before, but he does keep a hand on your knee.

----

some bestfriend!reader concepts ft oliver

another bestfriend! felix blurb :)

bestfriend! felix and reader basically dating

[r3ynah]

What's wrong with clones? what's wrong with me?

Dani was greatful for her mom, she was greatful that he was supportive and living when she first met him, and even after the fight she was happy that Danny didn't throw her away with hatred in his eyes, she would've understand it nonetheless, just imagine someone assaulting your DNA to make a copy of you? it was traumatizing or the both parties, based on experience.

But if it wasn't for Danny, she wouldn't be here at this place were she stands. It has been about 20 years since she was born, and her mom step backed from heroism and passed it down to her which she accepted with pride. Her mom deserves a break.

And without her she wouldn't be part of the Justice League, and wouldn't be meeting all this amazing people, they have loved dani and took care of her ever since she joined. and she was happy. what more could she ask for? well she was a bit lonely afterall.. and that was selfish of her, she already have her mom, her friends, what else could she even ask for?

__

Dani, Hero name Wraith, walked down the halls of the watchtower when she heard a ruckus in one of the meeting rooms, letting her curiosity get the best of her she took a peek in the room, where she found a bunch of Heroes surrounding a boy that looks a little too much like Superman. and Superman in the corner holding his head in stress? Agony? Dani doesn't know.

She stepped into the room, only for Wonder woman to notice her, She gave Dani a wave which she returned with a smile, she moved near Wonder woman in curiosity and asked: "What's going on? why's the Adults surrounding a kid?"

Wonder woman looked at her with a stare she didn't understand, before she answered. "He's a clone of Superman, we found him trying to kill the man, just last week, and this is the first time he's let out." She explained while pointing at the kid.

Dani let out a gasp of delight, "Really? Holy shit. I got to talk to the kid!" Before Diana could stop the girl she was already at the new clone's side, pushing the other heroes away.

The Clone angrly stared at the new person, infront of him. "What you'll interrogate me too?."

"What? Why would you think that?" Dani giggled as she circled the boy, her eyes darting back and forward to superman and the boy to see the similarities. "Ancients, you really look like Superman, what's wrong with you?"

"What do you mean by that?" The kid asked very confused.

"I mean you're healthy and fine, i don't get why the league is going haywire towards you." Wraith chuckled, as she floated upside down infront of the kid.

Silence embraced the room, as the sound of a steel chair echoed throughout the room.

"Didn't you hear what Wonder Woman said Wraith?" Superman walked big steps towards the two making other heroes take a step back, from the man of steel. "It's a clone."

"okay, Okay, Wait i feel i said something wrong?" Dani returned to her normal position, making sure she's not levitating upside anymore as she looked at older man infront of her in confusion. "What's the problem here?"

The room was quiet huh that was unusual with, there was a thick atmosphere that you can cut it with a knife.

"The problem? This is the problem." Superman angrily stated as he pointed at the kid, who looked ready to fight the man infront of him any second now.

"What? superman i don't get its just a clone and a child-" Wraith was cut off rudely. by the man infront of him.

"Ofcourse you don't get it, you don't get how it feels to be cloned, you don't get how traumatizing it is for your DNA to be stolen, That is not a child." Superman snapped, making Dani take a step back. "So stop acting like its a normal kid, that thing will never be like us, because its a mistake created by some lousy villain, who tried to stop and kill me, clones don't deserve love nor respect, and they certainly don't deserve families. Now Stop acting like you get it."

Silence, surrounded the room as Superman finished letting his anger out at Wraith who stared at him wide eyed confusion seen her face, she looked at her peers who only looked apologetic and those who looked down the floor and then there was batman

she shifted her gaze towards the, boy who she can see was trembling, The boy was crying. oh no. no. please don't cry.

"I get it." Wraith stated, keeping her ground, only babies cry she wasn't a baby now, she grew out of that phase.

She returned her gaze back at Superman who still was looking at her. it really looked like he didn't mean to snap at her. But that shit Hurt who knew he had it him, is this what Danny felt when he found out about her, was he in reality sick of her? no. No. Danny loved her, he said so himself.

"Wraith please no-" Wonder woman, called out trying not to get the girl in more trouble.

"No. I get it. I'm really sorry for you Superman, and how you got traumatized by some of your DNA getting stollen, I am really. But with all due respect you can't treat him like a thing, because he's a clone." Wraith spoke back, now more confident than ever. the kid perked up from this and raised his head, he was really crying.

"And what do you know about that? Wraith." Oh no Hero names, She knew she struck a nerve, Superman was back at being angry.

"What I know, is that you're right, clones don't deserve love and respect, clones don't deserve anyone because all they do is hurt and destroy." For a second everyone thought Wraith changed sides. Wraith glared at superman, he wanted her to agree with him, oh she'll agree with him alright. "Clones like me, don't deserve anything."

"What?"

Everyone in the room was shocked but to scared to speak, afraid to start something.

"Thank you, Superman. For showing me that I didn't deserve my mom, Because to be honest you're fucking right, all I did for my mom was pain and agony." Dani was now raising her voice, at the man infront of her.

"You're a clone?" Superman managed to ask, his eyebrows almost touching his hairline.

"Hell yeah, And you know what age he got me. Fourteen, He became my mom at the age of fourteen, he took care of me at the age of fourteen, he loved me like his own daughter at the age of fourteen" Wraith laughed out loud, tears threatening to stream down her face. "You know what's funny superman? I tried to also murder him, I tried to also kill my template. And yet he took me in, and said that it wasn't my fault. it wasn't my fault that i was born, It was never my fault, he comforted me as i cried to him about my other brothers who i watched slowly die and melt apart infront of my eyes, he didn't hate, he didn't isolate, he only loved and cared."

Wraith was now crying. as she gritted her teeth.

"Wrait-"

"you we're right. I didn't deserve my mom. if he had just killed me from the start, he would've been more happy and not worry about me, My mom is the kindest being in the world in my own eyes, and he'd done everything for me ever since he was fourteen." Dani looked down at the ground, with clenched hands. "I was born as a six years old, but in reality i was only two months old. it's funny how im the same age right now when my mom first had me. My body maybe 20, but my brain is 14, keep that in mind Superman."

She looked around her peers, but couldn't see anyone but her reflection in those glass walls, she's crying, she didn't want to cry. "You've been hating on that kid, but Superman let me remind you that kid." She looked at the child who was still sitting on the chair but now with a look of confusion, eyes red from crying. "Is only a few months old despite its physical appearance, you've been hating on a newborn baby, like a deadbeat dad, and that's just sad."

Dani can hear a snort in the background. She swore that sounded like her mom.

Superman looked defeated and guilty, Dani was tired she wanted to cry, in the arms of her mom, but she can't leave the other kid here, so she made a rash decision. "If you don't want him, I'll take him."

Protest engulfed the meeting room, but Dani didn't care, she passed Superman and headed towards the black haired kids, direction. "Wanna come with me?" she asked, while having her hand out for him to take.

The kid looked at her hand, before grabbing it. Dani smiled and summoned a portal, she took the kid with her, her mother's not gonna like this and she might take a break from JL a couple of months, Oh well its all worth it.

[puckinghischier]

Meet the Parents

Jack Hughes x fem!reader

summary: reader is nervous to meet jack’s parents

notes: got the itch to write again, and this request has been sitting in my inbox for awhile. this was very fun to write, and i’m learning i absolutely LOVE writing jack! the ending is kinda weird bc i didn’t really know how to end it, but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless! happy reading!! 🫶🏼

request: jack bringing his gf to meet the rest of his family and they all quickly adore her, but can tell she’s really important to jack and he really just loves her but she is also super close to Luke and that makes ellen very happy!! just something sweet have fun!!!

[4.2k]

“Darling, chill out. Everything’s going to be fine. I’m telling you, they already love you,” Jack brings a hand over to calm your bouncing knee.

You worry that Jack made a reservation at the wrong restaurant, seeing as the two of you have been sitting in the half circle booth for fifteen minutes already, and there’s no trace of the rest of the Hughes clan to be seen.

Jack’s parents had flown into Jersey yesterday, wanting to be there when the Devils play the Canucks tomorrow so they can see all of their children on the same ice once again.

Quinn and Luke were joining you for dinner tonight, too, but you had no fears about either of them being in attendance. If anything, the fact that both of them will be here calms your nerves a little more.

Luke was actually the reason you had met Jack in the first place. The small café you worked at being one of Luke’s favorite spots to come and decompress after practice or before big games. He would come in and sit at the same table in the back of the small dining room, ordering an iced green tea and a grilled ham and swiss every time.

You went to take your break one day, going to sit at your favorite secluded corner booth, only to find the space already taken by none other than your curly-headed regular.

He offered for you to sit, claiming his table had been taken when he came in, but he was about to take off anyways. You insisted he stayed and you share the booth, then spent your entire break chatting with the hockey player, as you had learned, and a friendship was quickly formed.

He started sitting in your booth instead of his table, causing you to spend most of your breaks talking to your new friend. The conversations during breaks and between rushes became him inviting you to games and outings with his teammates.

He had introduced you to Jack the first time you agreed to meet up with him at a sports bar down the road after a shift, and you were instantly drawn to the middle Hughes brother.

The more games you went to and the more you made appearances during post-game celebrations, the closer you became to Jack, until the two of you made the jump from friends to dating.

Luke had admitted that he knew from that first time he sat with you on your break, you were perfect for his brother. He orchestrated the whole thing, from inviting you out to bringing Jack along to a few of his ‘zen’ lunches before games after your first introduction to his older brother.

You were thankful Luke had decided to play matchmaker for his brother all those months ago. You couldn’t imagine your life without Jack in it, now. You had found your person, and gained two brothers out of it at the same time.

And even though you had been with Jack for quite some time, the opportunity to meet his parents had never presented until now. You had met Quinn only two months into your relationship, taking a trip to Vancouver with the two devils players to celebrate Quinn’s becoming captain of the Canucks.

Jim and Ellen hadn’t been able to make it then, flying out a few weeks after the three of you made your visit. Jack and Luke had invited you to spend the week with their family at their lake house this summer, but it was the same week you had flown home for your grandfather’s birthday party.

There were a couple more missed opportunities between now and then, but now is the time that you’re faced with the infamous task of meeting the parents.

You keep trying to tell yourself that they can’t be that scary, considering how quickly you were accepted by all three children they raised. But that seed of doubt keeps digging its roots in your mind, causing you to become a ball of anxious energy all day.

You had shown up and proceeded to clean Jack’s entire apartment at seven o’clock this morning, after cleaning yours last night, because you couldn’t sleep. You color-coded his t-shirts in his closet and re-organized all of Luke’s drawers in his room. Luke had joked that they should take you to a family reunion and maybe you’d start detailing their cars, next. The comment earned him a swift smack to the head from Jack.

Your boyfriend, on the other hand, begged you to stop, and take a breather with him. He took you to a salon to get your nails re-done, the scrubbing you did to your shower last night ruining your current manicure. He also took you to the local animal shelter, remembering how you babbled about a statistic stating that petting a cat for ten minutes can reduce a person’s stress by 50%.

He brought you back to his apartment with plenty of time to get ready, and sat in the bathroom with you the entire time you showered so he could listen to you list your worries about this evening and reassure you everything would be fine. He claimed he wanted to learn and help when you sat down in front of the vanity he had bought and placed in his room for you, eager to help you apply the various creams and powders to your face. He tried to curl a few strands of your hair for you, causing you to break into a fit of giggles when he got the iron so tangled in your hair it stayed without either of you holding on to it.

His actions did ease your anxiety, being so focused on Jack and your love for him to leave any room for the familiar bubble of nervousness in your belly. But the second you stepped foot in the restaurant, it all became real again.

“Jack, are you sure this is the right place? Why aren’t they here yet? Do you think they forgot?” you place your hand on top of the one he just placed on your knee, looking over at him with wide, worried eyes.

“Yes, this is the right place. They’re just running a bit behind. Dad isn’t always the best judge of traffic. He thinks he can beat the GPS every time,” he chuckles, leaning in to place a kiss to your temple.

You close your eyes and lean into his kiss, allowing yourself to get lost in Jack and the comfort he never fails to bring you.

He removes his lips from your temple, lowering his head slightly to speak quietly into your ear.

“I promise, you have nothing to worry about. Mom is so excited to meet you, and Dad always asks about how your classes are going when I talk to him on the phone,” he starts, rubbing his hand up and down your thigh. “Plus, if for some reason they decide they don’t like you, which is literally impossible, by the way, it’s not going to change the way I feel about you.”

He places a kiss to your cheek, your eyes still closed listening to his words. You let out a breath you had been holding, letting yourself fully sag into his side. He starts to speak softly once more as you lay your head fully on his shoulder.

“They will never change how much I love you, Y/N. You’re it for me. I’ll live the rest of my life in familial exile if I have to. You’re the only thing that matters to me, understand?”

“Now, don’t be so dramatic, Jack, I’m a catch. Surely if I can survive all the puck bunnies I can survive your mom and dad,” you joke, his words giving you a small boost of confidence. “Plus, they raised you, how scary can they really be?”

You lift your head off of his shoulder and pinch his cheek, poking fun at the fact the internet claims Jack isn’t very threatening.

“Heyyy,” he draws the word out, feigning offense. “I can be scary. I am a big scary hockey player after all,” he pouts bringing his forehead to rest against yours.

You bring your hand up to pat his cheek. “Yeah, sure, keep telling yourself that, pretty boy.”

You giggle as Jack growls at you and brings his hands to tickle your sides, causing you to yelp and try to squirm away from him in the large booth.

Neither of you notice the hostess escorting the rest of the Hughes family towards your booth.

“Alright, get a room you two, geez. And don’t make it mine this time,” you hear Luke’s voice ring out, referencing the time Jack’s sheets were being washed so the two of you decided to nap in Luke’s room.

You snap to attention, separating yourself from Jack fully.

You look up to see his entire family standing there, looking at you. Jack rolls his eyes at his brother, quickly scooting out of the booth to greet his parents.

“We take a nap in your room one time and you never let us forget it. We even slept on top of your comforter, for crying out loud!” Jack ruffles Luke’s curls as he walks past him.

You wiggle your way out of the booth to greet his family, taking a few deep breaths for good measure.

You find yourself in front of Quinn first, walking into his open arms for one of your favorite Quinn bear hugs.

“How are you, squirt?” he asks, squeezing you tight.

“Quinnifer, I’m only two years younger than you,” you squeeze him back, hearing him chuckle at your own nickname for the defenseman.  

“Yeah, so you’re forever and affectionately known as squirt,” he says matter of factly, pulling back from the hug but keeping his hands on your upper arms as you roll your eyes at him.

“So, you doing okay? Any meltdowns yet? Jack told me you were nervous,” Quinn questions you, ducking slightly so he can look into your eyes.

“Well, Jack’s t-shirts are color coded and Luke’s drawers are now sorted in order of how he gets dressed, so if that’s what you call okay, then yeah, I’m doing great,” you reveal, giving Quinn a sheepish smile.

“I thought Jack said you were nervous? Sounds like a typical Thursday night for you,” he teases back, letting his hands drop.

“Ha-Ha, very funny, Quinnifer,” you deadpan.

Quinn laughs at you. “Seriously, you have nothing to worry about. I don’t know if Jack told you already, but they ask about you all the time. I think Mom’s over the moon that Rowdy finally has someone to keep him in check. They love you already.” Quinn tells you with the most sincerity you’ve ever heard from him.

You reach out and squeeze his shoulder, a silent thank you for the reassurance.

“Yeah, I think Mom’s already got the wedding colors picked out,” Luke approaches the two of you.

“Shut up, Moose. You’re just mad Jack snagged her when you were too dumb to,” Quinn elbows Luke in the ribs as he stands next to his oldest brother.

“Quinn, that’s literally the most disgusting thing you’ve ever said to me,” Luke hunches over, rubbing his abdomen.

“Gee, thanks Luke. Glad to know how repulsive you think I am,” you throw your arms up slightly, playfully scoffing.

“Don’t get me wrong, Y/N, you’re a catch and all, but my God, that’s like someone telling me I should make a move on my sister,” Luke makes a gagging noise, emphasizing his point.

“Don’t worry, Lukey, I feel the same way about it. You’re the annoying little brother I never wanted and didn’t have…until now,” you dig back, earning your own eye roll from the tallest Hughes.

You look over to see Jack conversing with his parents when he catches your eye, waving you over.

“Well, here goes nothing, I guess,” you whisper out before walking the few feet to your left where Jack stands with his parents.

You walk into the open arm Jack has held out for you, his arm slipping around your waist, his thumb lightly rubbing up and down to let you know he’s right there with you.

“Mom, Dad, this is Y/N,” Jack introduces you as you place your own hand over his on your waist, grounding yourself to him.

You’re so focused on trying to smile without looking like you’re in pain that you don’t see the look Jack gives you.

Ellen, however, does. Jack told her how nervous you were for tonight, begging her to not ask you too many questions and to let you do the talking, no matter how well intended her questions are.

She sees the way her son looks at you, never having seen such an expression of love on his face before. She notices how tightly you’re gripping his hand, and the slight motion of his thumb.

She knew she liked you before this moment, Jack’s constant talking about you making her feel like she’s already met you before. But witnessing your moment with Jack before the two of you were aware they had arrived, seeing how comfortable you are with her son, and how much joy was on his face every time he looked at you, was enough to sell her even further.

You reach your hand out for a handshake, trying to discreetly wipe your hand on the fabric of your dress.

“Hi, It’s so nice to finally meet you two. I’m so sorry we haven’t been able to meet before now. Jack’s told me so much about you,” you say to both of them, but reaching your hand out towards Ellen first.

Ellen takes your hand. “Oh, honey, we’re not a hand shaking family. You see how Quinn is, we’re huggers,” she pulls you forward, wrapping you in what you can only described as a motherly hug.

She squeezes you tightly before letting go, giving you a wide smile.

You turn to Jim, his arms already open and inviting.

You give him a quick hug, now knowing where Quinn gets his bear hugging tendencies from.

The six of you make your way into the large booth, you and Jack taking your spot in the middle of the booth with his parents sitting to his left and Quinn and Luke sitting to your right.

Jack’s hand makes its way to your leg immediately. Throughout the meal he’s never not touching you. Whether it’s his hand on your leg, his arm around your shoulders, or his hand resting in yours on the table, he always lets you know he’s right there with you.

Ellen and Jim ask you about your school work and what your plans are after you graduate. They ask you about your family and where you’re from, but they mostly let you set the pace of the conversation, which you’re thankful for.

The food comes and goes, and the anxiety you felt earlier melts away the longer you converse with the family.

Once the plates are cleared and dessert is ordered, the topic of hockey finally makes its way into the conversation of the night. You’re thankful, the spotlight finally being taken off of you for a few minutes.

“So, Quinny, hope you’re ready to get your ass beat tomorrow, because Luke and I won’t be taking it easy on you out there, Cap,” Jack changes the subject when there’s a lull in the discussion of how you ended up in New Jersey, giving you a squeeze and a quick wink, being able to tell you were getting a little talked out.

“Oh, I wouldn’t expect you to. Then it’d be too easy, considering we’re going to shut you out anyways,” Quinn teases back.

“I don’t know, Huggy, I think that C added a bit too much weight to your jersey, you’re looking slower and slower every time I see you. Or maybe it’s just that old age catching up with you,” Luke chimes in.

“I’m twenty-four you idiot. I’m still one of the youngest guys on my team,” Quinn rolls his eyes. You notice a lot of eye rolling among the three brothers when they’re together.

“I don’t know, I heard that twenty-four in hockey years is basically like you’re fifty in normal people years,” Jim adds, smirking over at Jack.

“Oh, yeah? So you’re saying you could out skate me if we were to get on the ice right now, huh, Dad?” Quinn challenges his father.

“Sure I could. Who do you think you got all of your talent from, hmm?”

All three of the boys respond in unison. “Mom.”

The table erupts in laughter.

“Alright boys, enough. Before you talk your father into doing something that could get him hurt,” Ellen speaks through the laughter, looking up at her husband while resting her head on his shoulder for just a moment.

You watch the two look at each other, seeing how much love they share.

You turn your head to look over at Jack, laughter still on his face. You can’t help but smile up at him. You love him with everything you have in you, and finally meeting his entire family just solidified that for you. Being able to spend time with the wonderful people that raised him makes you love him that much more. You look around the table at his two brothers, still laughing with each other. You hope that one day you can have this with Jack. A family with nothing but love to give each other.

As you’re picturing your future with Jack, he’s looking over at you, thinking about how lucky he is that Luke happened to stumble into your café on one of his first days in New Jersey. He thanks the universe for putting you in his path and for the fact that you, for some unknown reason, decided to love him out of all the people in this world.

Ellen once again observes the looks both you and Jack gave the other when the other wasn’t paying attention. She feels a warmth settling in her chest when she looks at the two of you. She can see how much you mean to Jack, and how much he means to you. She sees how well you get along with Luke and Quinn, both of them talking about you nearly as much as Jack does. You fit in so well with their family; your humor, kindness, and capacity to love her boys making her feel like you’re simply an addition to their dynamic that she didn’t know was missing until now.

Dessert comes and goes and the boys all argue over who’s paying for dinner until Jim sneaks his card to the waiter while they were too busy yelling at one another.

You all exit the booth and make your way to the sidewalk in front of the building, chit chatting a little more while walking to the parking garage before parting ways.

You’re walking with Quinn, Luke and Jim, listening to them bicker about tomorrow’s game. You notice Jack and Ellen fall behind, Ellen linking arms with her middle son as they walk.

“So, what do you think?” Jack asks his mom, watching you push Luke lightly, wondering what he said to make your head fall back in laughter.

“Jack, she’s great. But you already knew that. Not that you need it, but my approval was given the second you called and said you’d met someone,” Ellen responds, following his gaze, watching you pull Jack’s jacket tighter around your shoulders.

“God, I love her, Mom. More than I ever knew was possible,” Jack sighs out, letting his head fall onto the top of Ellen’s as they walk.

“I can see it, Jack. And I can see she loves you just as much,” Ellen starts, bringing her free hand up to pat Jack’s arm. “My only advice? Don’t let her go. She’s special, Jack. The way she gets along with your brothers, and the way they love her like she’s been part of this family for years, that’s rare.”

Ellen blinks back tears, just overwhelmed with happiness that Jack found someone that’s able to love him as much as she knows he deserves to be loved.

“I know, Mom. Trust me, I know. I don’t ever plan on letting her go. In fact,” Jack pauses, pulling back from his mom as you round the corner into the garage with his dad and brothers, “I bought this about two months ago. Not gonna give it to her just yet, but I couldn’t stand it any longer. Had to go ahead and buy her one,” he pulls out a small velvet box, popping it open and showing his mom the ring he picked out for you.

“Oh, Jack,” Ellen coos as she takes the box from his hand, looking at the princess cut diamond sitting on top of the gold band.

Her eyes fill with tears for the millionth time this evening when she looks up at Jack, finally letting them spill over. She keeps looking down at the ring and then back up at Jack while the tears stream down her cheeks.

Jack feels his own eyes sting at his mother’s reaction, knowing they’re happy tears.

“Jack, I’m so proud of you. And so happy for you,” Ellen sniffles through the tears. “She’s going to love it, honey. Just…let me know before you do it, yeah? And don’t forget her parents, you gotta let them know, too.” She wipes her eyes, closing the box and handing him back the ring.

“Already taken care of. Asked them when I bought it. Told me they’d love nothing more, but to just let them know when it’s happening. And to send them lots of pictures,” Jack chuckles, placing the box back in his pocket but not taking his hand off of it.

“Oh, yes, I want lots of pictures too. Don’t want to miss a second of the moment I finally get a girl!” Ellen exclaims, throwing her hands out in excitement.

“Don’t worry, I plan on flying everyone out when I do it. Know it’d mean the world to her to have everyone here to celebrate afterwards. Got it all planned out and everything,” Jack tells his mom, pulling her in for a hug.

Ellen squeezes him as hard as she can, letting every ounce of pride and love she has in her body flow into Jack through her hug.

“Oh, and just in case you get too far ahead and start planning the wedding before I propose,“ Jack breaks the silence, knowing how excited Ellen can get, “Luke already called dibs on being the flower girl.”

Ellen bursts into laughter so loud it alerts you and the rest of her family that they were no longer behind you.

You back track just a little to find Jack and Ellen walking towards you while hugging each other and laughing.

“Where’d you guys go? I thought you were right behind us?” you asked, noticing the puffy nature of Ellen’s eyes but choosing not to overstep and comment on it.

“Oh, honey, we were. And always will be. Right here behind you, whenever you need us,” Ellen says as Jack comes up beside you and tugs you into his side.

Her sentimental comment confuses you, but you catch Jack smiling down at you out of the corner of your eye, any confusion forgotten the second your eyes met his.

“Alright, I better catch up with the rest of my crew. You boys need your rest tonight, you have a big game tomorrow,” Ellen points at Jack.

She makes her way over to you, Jack letting go of you in order to let his mother pull you into a hug.

“Y/N, it was so lovely to finally meet you. I’ll see you at the game tomorrow, okay?” She pulls back, bringing her hands to rest on your cheeks. “Welcome to the family, dear,” she tells you, pulling you in for yet another hug.

She meets her son’s gaze behind you as she squeezes you, a knowing look shared between the two.

You squeezed her back, willing yourself not to cry as you digest the words you wish you could go back and tell yourself this morning, so you could let her know it would all be okay, and to leave Jack’s closet alone.

She finally pulls back, walking over and giving Jack a kiss on the cheek before giving the two of you a small wave before disappearing around the corner, following her husband and two other sons.

You turn to look at Jack, tears in your eyes.

“Does that mean she liked me? Or was she just being nice?” you ask him, wanting to make sure you really did make a good impression on his family.

“Darling, she meant it, trust me. You’re one of us now. Have been from the start, really. The only thing you’re missing is the last name,” he assures you, earning a laugh as you shake your head and grab his hand, leading him in the direction of his parked car.

He watches as you walk in front of him, feeling the weight of the ring box in his pocket, finding no humor in the idea of you officially becoming a Hughes, knowing that day is coming sooner rather than later.

[thevirtualvalentine]

TAKING WHAT’S NOT YOURS — OSAMU MIYA

content warnings: smut, mentions of voyeurism (suna is just there for the ride), possessive language and toxic behaviors, f!reader, situationships, oral (giving and receiving), mind numbing flirting & witty banter, creampie, he calls you a slut twice, you’re both kinda shitty. 🤷🏾

plot: as usual, atsumu has brought another “friends with benefits minus the friend” home. but unusually, osamu can’t stand the thought of you together, even suna agrees, right?

a/n: tv girl referenced! something evil took over me when writing this, I’m getting uninvited from so many miya birthday parties omg … T_T enjoy this 4.6k word vom.

Osamu never thought being roommates with his own twin could get any worse than when they were young boys sharing a bunk bed. Atsumu was never the type to return clothes he borrowed and certainly was the type to eat food sharpied with someone else’s name. What was Osamu’s, by extension, was Atsumu’s. He loved his brother and would yield to his selfishness because that’s just how things were.

Lately, however, Atsumu has been seeing someone, more and more frequently. Going as far as replacing his other quick fucks between practices for you. Osamu can understand why, you’re witty, unbelievably sexy, and far too sophisticated to be a fuck laid by Atsumu whenever he sends a quick “come over” text.

This matter has perplexed everyone in Atsumu Miya’s circle, questions raise on how he even managed to get your attention. “Yer all just mad it’s me she wants,” the cheeky bastard says with a toothy grin. To that, he’s not wrong.

That’s how Osamu and Suna have ended up here, with their ears to the door trying to understand what you possibly could be getting in fair exchange. “You fuckin’ love it don’t you baby,” Atsumu says to you in a tone dripping with confidence. It makes both their stomachs churn thinking of someone so beautiful with a guy like that…

“I just can’t believe this,” Suna dramatizes, he really wants to aid his friend but with each passing second of skin slapping against skin — he doesn’t know how much longer Osamu can take it. The Miyas are .. rather possessive, especially him.

“Mhm hm! Love it ‘Tsumu your dick is so good!” It’s downright pornographic how honey-sweet you sound, it just has to be fake.

“Rin, we both know Atsumu can’t fuck women that good. Tell me I still have a chance,” he’s delusional and he knows it, but the small sliver of hope keeps him desperately chasing after what’s not his.

“You’re crazy,” he snickers, almost pitying his friend for how hard he is beneath his pants. “One Miya is trouble enough, but two? She’ll be running for the hills.”

That’s all Osamu needed to set his plot into motion, he’ll just have to steal you away from him — his own brother.

It’s a quiet Sunday morning in the apartment, you roll out of Atsumu’s huge bed to make yourself coffee like you usually do when you stay over. Bless his heart but you and your newest fuck could not be any more different, he’s a late sleeper, overconfident, and to top it all off he’s not the greatest lay. You weren't sure how you ended up sleeping with a volleyball player.

But, he is undeniably handsome, which is how you found yourself in his bed. Shoving those thoughts aside, you slip into the hallway in nothing but one of his oversized shirts making your way to the kitchen. “Mornin’, coffee’s on the table.”

His voice startles you from your half-awakened stupor and you realize it’s just Atsumu. How sweet, he’s never done something like this for you before. You rub your sleepy eyes as you take a sip from the warm mug, hold on. You just left his bed, how could he be here?

Dark brown hair and cold grey eyes meet yours and instantly you know who this man is. “Oh- I’m so sorry Osamu, it didn’t register to me that you’d be here today.” You panic, trying to cover yourself up with something but he just laughs you off while drinking from his own cup.

Osamu Miya, the twin brother and (elusive) roommate of Atsumu. “You’re fine pretty, just enjoy the coffee. Let me know if you want any breakfast with it.” Once a month Osamu closes his shop in preparation for a big rice delivery from Kita, he’s just happened to catch you alone in his living room.

Involuntary heat rises to your face at his choice of words, you haven’t been formally introduced on account of the fact your relationship with his brother isn’t serious but you don’t mind his informal greeting. “So the rumors are true, you’re a chef?” you query, setting your mug down on a table closest to your seat.

God. The lilt in your voice makes him shudder and swallow hard, not to mention that the fat of your thighs peek out from under your shirt when you cross your legs. You aren’t aware of this, but that’s his shirt Atsumu has yet to return — but right now he’ll let that go — he gets to see you wear it.

“Mhm, it seems I can’t deny the allegations. Mostly onigiri though. Sorry to disappoint.” He can’t help himself but to flirt with you, his twisted infatuation morphing into a crush now that he’s immersed himself in the real thing. The soft glow of the morning light makes you appear like an angel on his couch.

“Well Mr. Chef, don’t hurt yourself trying to make bacon and eggs,” you muse. While he may be as handsome as Atsumu, he’s different; calmer, wittier, and more adept at ordinary life skills from the looks of it. This man, you reckon, is the sole reason why your sneaky link even has a proper roof over his head.

The conversation flows naturally between you as he prepares the needed ingredients. It ranges from work to his restaurant then back to you again, you find yourself laughing at his jokes and feeling much more comfortable in the apartment than before. There's a certain chemistry that seems to occur between you.

It continues like this for a while, Osamu finding reasons to be at the flat instead of his restaurant so that he may spend time with you, chatting you up over breakfast that he’s prepared. Flirtatious remarks beneath the guise of innocent conversation.

It feels wrong, coming over for one man hoping to see another the next morning, the worst of all being that they have the same face. Yet, they could not be any more contrasting. Where Atsumu forces your submission in his bedroom - Osamu rightfully earns it by tending to you. Sometimes when you look up between your lashes you wish it was dark hair you were seeing instead of platinum.

It’s another quiet Sunday morning in the Miya’s apartment. Your feet feel light as you make your way down the hallway to see him, Osamu. It’s inexplicable to you why there seems to be more cadence in your step with each strut forward, and on queue there he is. Alluring as he sits on the couch in his compression tee.

The same relaxed smile and soft tone, “Mornin’ sweetness, your coffee’s on the table.” You scoop the mug up as you plop down on the forgiving cushion next to him.

“This isn’t a sound business practice, aren’t owners supposed to open their restaurant?” You’re quick to start this morning, craving the stimulating conversation you can only find in him - like he’s some sort of haven amongst the rubble that is your situationship. The guilt does gnaw at you, making the coffee taste even more bitter than usual.

It’s what he’s been waiting for, the foundation begins to crumble and like your hero, he’ll swoop in. “Yes, but lately I’ve been hired as a private chef. The clientele is rather demanding of me if you can believe that,” he retorts while deadpanning in your direction. When he looks at you it feels like you’re bare for his eyes alone. Those cool tone grey eyes that know exactly what you are.

It leaves a lump in your throat that makes it difficult to talk. He continues between sips of his coffee, “she only requests bacon and eggs when I could give her so much more.” It makes your blood rush trying to see through his act, is it literal or innuendo? Nevertheless, you dance around each other avoiding the inevitable for a taste of limbo.

“What’s on the menu then?” You’re content to shove the ball back on his side of the court, intent on making him reveal his cards in a full flush.

The air in the room suffocates you, what seems like a quick conversation plays in slow motion. You’ve always been one to play coy, guarding your heart with quick jabs and humor. He indulges you, plays the game, the one of the cat and the mouse.

But the Miya’s are not coy, not by a long shot. “You.” It’s simple and effective, and he doesn’t miss the hitch in your breath when you realize he’s both literal and figurative.

During this long winded plot of his, Osamu has purposely avoided the topic of Atsumu all together. He doesn’t want to feed the green in his vision, doesn’t want to think of the consequences, he just wants you. Desperately.

It’s like your brain's shut down, the truth is right here in your face but it’s flustering. You’ve won, but why does it feel like you’ve lost? “I— Osamu,” you start, but you just can’t meet his gaze.

“Face it, when you’re with him you’re thinking of me.” The shame washes over you and becomes a pit of despair in your stomach. Your hands bunch the fabric of Atsumu’s shirt as you sit there and face the truth for yourself. The ugly, raring, and raw truth: that you want his hands to roam the canvas of your body, that it’s his lips you want seared into your flesh, that it’s his room you wish you were going into during the wee hours of the night. Not Atsumu’s.

He’s in front of you now, his broad shoulders casting a dubious shadow over you. “Tell me — right here n’ now — that you don’t want me and I’ll leave you alone.” But still, you can’t bring yourself to look at him. To be met with that face.

“Osamu, please.” You beg, pawing at his shirt, with tears in your eyes. “Don’t leave,” you feel pathetic, shame eating at you for acting so desperate. You’ve never behaved this way before, not genuinely at least. He drives you crazy, and you’re not willing to let it go so easily.

He thinks he’ll cum in his pants from this little display alone, your honesty and vulnerability fueling his twisted desire. He looks more like his brother than ever before, trademark wicked smirk at the feeling of victory. It’s delightful.

“Shh, pretty thing I’m not gonna quit you,” he says taking your face in his big hand. It’s hot, searing to the touch. The pad of his thumb strokes your plush cheek, “feel what you do to me.”

Osamu takes your hand in his, covering it seamlessly while dragging it up his thigh. He’s hard, incredibly so. It’s almost painful just how bricked he is beneath his pants. “See,” he helps you palm from the base all the way to the tip and you swear you’re dripping onto his couch. He groans softly feeling your delicate hands basically grope him in his shared living room, but fuck does it feel good.

He has to stop himself from grinding into your hand, frantic to finally get some reprieve to this insatiable ache for you. “So, how long,” you ask, not stopping your ministrations.

The air around you has changed, you’ve regained your composure knowing you weren’t alone in your desperation. He hisses when you cup his balls looking for a response, “how long what?”

His face is flushed a wild shade of pink and it’s only heightened by the morning light pouring in through the windows. “Now you want to play coy with me, Osamu Miya? How long have you waited to fuck me behind Atsumu’s back? Was it when he first brought me home,” your hand slides along the fabric smoothly as you rest your head against his hip.

“Maybe it was all those times you made me coffee?” You continue palming him, essentially jacking him off through his pants. “Or maybe when you were listening outside the door?” You squeeze and he lets out a choked whimper.

“Like yer any better slut, jerkin’ me off while you’re under my brothers roof.” He can’t control his tone, country accent raring to go on account of feeling cornered. You make him feel so good he doesn’t want to stop, he’s never been this hard in his life.

You hum, pleased with his response. “Such a nasty mouth for a chef. Do you speak to your customers this way?” He’s pulling himself out of his pants before you get the chance, his tip angry and red, soaked with precious pre.

It makes your mouth water, you’re eye level with his cock and all you want is to make yourself gag on it. “Nah, just the pretty ones with a bratty mouth. So show me what you can do hot stuff.”

Spitting directly on his head you drag the bulb down to his base with your tongue, watching as he shudders from your seated position. You place your hands on either side of his hips as you take him fully in your mouth, lapping the salty taste up trying to replace it with your own. “Dirty lil thing, you do this for him?”

The possession in his voice is palpable but you give him a taste of his own medicine. “Nah, only for the handsome ones who are smartasses,” releasing him from your mouth makes a pop sound. You jerk him in one hand as you belittle him, smiling with spit dribbling down your chin.

He thinks he might be in love with you, isn’t that funny. A woman who can reduce him to mere putty that’s rightfully not his, how raunchy. It makes Osamu’s balls pulse uncomfortably.

You’re a vixen, sent to entice him with your every move and fluid jerk of your wrist. He has to stop now or he’ll cum too fast, he wants this moment to last forever. The way you worship him and his cock, the way your smart mouth makes his head swim, and how warm your hands are on his bare skin.

Osamu Miya has never felt so greedy in his entire life. He hasn’t felt the need to ask anything this demanding of his brother, but what’s Atsumu’s is Osamu’s. Right? What’s a quick fuck to one is a wife to another, and with the way you’re sucking him off he might just have to put a ring on it.

Reluctantly, he pulls himself from your hot mouth before he’s able to spill down your throat. He taps the tip of his cock against your lips insultingly with a grin, “Enough, so damn desperate yer gonna choke on it.”

He’s mean but it excites you, Atsumu has never spoken to you like this only really going through the motions. You can’t help how your pussy clenches involuntarily around nothing nor can you stop the heat from rising to your face as you draw your thighs together. You sit there, staring at each other with bated breaths as the reality of what you’re doing sets in.

But if you thought that was going to deter him, you are sorely mistaken. He practically falls to his knees to get a taste of your lips against his, resting his upper body between your legs on the couch. Osamu groans tasting himself on your tongue as he invades your mouth.

You’re slobbering all over each other in a heated attempt to engulf one another. He grabs the back of your thighs while you wrap your arms around his neck. It’s like months of desperate mutual yearning have come to fruition and neither of you will let up. Not even for air.

You’re not wearing any panties and you’re sure your cunts drooling all over the place as he sucks kisses down your neck and collarbones. “Osamu—” you whine quietly, only for him to hear. His tongue licks and prods at your sensitive skin giving you goosebumps. It’s so hot and heavy you can’t make any sense of yourself just from some simple kisses.

He’s reduced you to nothing with minimal effort, wildly different from other sexual encounters you’ve had. “I need more of you Osamu, please,” and it’s the sweetest words he’s ever heard uttered. You’re absolutely perfect, just for him.

“Of course love, whatever you need.” His hands begin to spread your legs apart as another gush of slick pours out of you from the pet name alone. “I bet he doesn’t even know what to do with this, doesn’t know how to make you feel good like I can.”

If that’s a promise, you need him to fulfill it. His words are heavy in your ears as you watch him take his shirt off, they weigh in your chest threatening to drag you down with him. He spreads your puffy folds apart with his thumb, getting a good look at you and letting out coos of praise. “Yer so fuckin wet I can see it,” he dips into your warmth only slightly, marveling at the slick that coats his fingers.

He eyes them and you try to stop him before he does what you think he’s gonna do. “Don’t do that, it’s nasty,” you say trying to grab his hand.

But he swats you away, appraising the translucent liquid by spreading his fingers apart before sticking them in his mouth. “Mhm, n’ you taste as good as you look.”

He loves this look on you, the horror written all over your face as he sucks them clean. A chef never wastes a proper meal, and he’s still fuckin hungry.

Osamu yanks you down the couch to be as close as possible, he can feel the heat radiating from your cunt with just his face above it. He can tell you’ve never had someone properly eat you out by the way you’re so scared to let him even play around with you, and that lights a fire under his ass.

He dives tongue first into your folds, purposely avoiding the spot you need him the most. The moan you let out is a stark comparison to anything he’s heard from you before, but he can’t have you spoiling the fun already.

So he’ll kiss you instead, forcing you to taste yourself and groan into his maw while his fingers work magic in your cunt. Your nails find purchase in the skin of his back as he holds your leg open with one hand and slides his middle finger inside you with another. He pulls back, gauging your reaction for any discomfort as he works it in and out of your sopping heat.

“So messy for me baby, god I love it,” but he’s not looking at you, he’s looking at where his finger slips inside you; making you watch as his knuckles disappear before sliding in another.

The second digit proving to be a stretch for you as you cry into his mouth about how good it feels, “so good ‘samu, just a little faster.”

That’s when he curls them upwards, toying the rougher patch of your g-spot with the pads of his middle and ring finger. The force at which you try to close your legs and dig your nails into his skin lets him know he’s in the right place. “Gotta stay quiet sweetheart, can ya do that for me?”

You don’t know how you could be, with the way he’s listening to your body he’s managed to play its perfect tune. But you nod, covering your mouth with your hand obediently as he descends between your legs again.

Finally, he pays mind to your puffy clit. Giving it kitten licks while his fingers are still making a sloppy mess of you down below. He groans sending vibrations through you in the act of suckling your bud between his lips.

It’s muffled, but he can hear you chanting his name as he throughly wrecks you with just his mouth and hands. It causes white hot pleasure to settle in the belly of you as you writhe and try and to run away from it. He won’t let you, forcing your legs apart even wider.

You’re cumming on his fingers before you even know it. Leaving red welts on his shoulder as you go limp on the couch. “Just keep cumming for me pretty. Let go,” his low calm voice centers you when you begin to twitch against your will.

You’ve rarely ever truly came when fucking Atsumu, but Osamu has you pleading for mercy as he thumbs your clit through the aftershocks.

He lets you catch your breath, helping you remove the oversized shirt from over your head. “Don’t think I’m done with you yet,” he says while thumbing your chin, and kissing your tits tenderly. His eyes reassure you from between the valley of your breasts.

You’re appreciative of his masked concern, “then stop talking, and start doing.” The fight in you is exactly why he wanted you in the first place.

“To think this gorgeous pussys been wasted,” he tsks. “Don’tcha worry yer pretty head baby, I’ll fuck that attitude outta ya.” He stands up, removing the rest of his clothing and putting you on the couch how he wants you. Obviously, he was going to go for missionary, all so that you could see him in the act of claiming you as his own.

You know you’re in trouble with Osamu when he slips into his country accent, it’s involuntary but it’s his true nature. You’re placed onto your back by his big arms, most likely from carrying heavy bags of rice everyday at his job. You can’t help but ogle at the thin layer of sweat that coats him, and he smiles. So charming.

He begins by lining himself with your entrance, teasing the ring of muscle with the tip of his cock. It makes you whine, needy for more but he won’t just take you. No, he uses your pussy to lube himself up. “For fucks sake ‘Samu just put it in please,” you think using a nickname on him will work like it does with Atsumu.

But Osamu is in control of himself and his desires (for the most part), he’ll rut his hips into your sticky labias, running over your sensitive clit with the underside of himself. “So needy, jus’ watch” he tilts your chin downwards to make you gaze at where your bodies nearly meet.

He’s going to break you before anything else. The sight is turning you on beyond belief, his body tensing and releasing with every slow drawl of his lazy hips. “How bad d’ya want me? Tell me n’ I’ll fuck you slut.”

The way in which he carries himself warns you to not mess with him, submit. It’s all in his face, the restraint, the power, the control. You want to break down and beg him for everything so that he may see you for what you truly are in those grey eyes. “I think about you every time I come over here, every time you’ve poured me coffee or made my eggs I’ve wanted you. ‘Samu I need you s’bad please..”

You feel him physically twitch and groan lowly at your confession. He wasn’t expecting all that but it certainly does stroke his ego. Osamu pinches your nipple slightly as he grins. “Yeah baby, you wish it was me touchin’ you,” its rhetorical. He’ll reward you though, ‘fer bein so damn good’.

He feels heavenly entering you, it makes your toes curl when you hear him sigh into a slow pace. He takes his time with you, working you up to fully enjoy your experience with him. “You feel so good, fuck.. n’ your pussy’s so warm,” he says while tightening the grip on the back of your knees.

Everything is hitting you at once and it’s getting hotter by the second, your heavy breaths hitting his face as you accept him in full. It’s a snug fit and the curve of him feels just right in your walls, fuck you need him closer.

“I want you,” is all that comes out between soft whimpers. And he obliges, folding you in half and guiding your arms to hang around his shoulders. He feels so deep inside you that you can’t even see straight. His face is red with his brows drawn together in pleasure.

You try and keep quiet but the muffled sound of skin against skin keeps ringing in your ears along with the slosh of your cunt. “Lettin’ me pound you raw too, should just let me have ya. I know I’m fuckin’ you better than him.”

His words are like fire on your skin, burning you from the inside out. Your walls flutter and convulse around him as he snickers. It registers that you can feel all of him and you whine. The flood gates threaten to spill.

“I— Osamu s’good, oh my god!” He revels in the fact it almost sounds like you’re in pain from how much satisfaction you’re feeling, because of him. It’s his name you’re wailing, not Atsumu’s.

You dig your nails deeper, certain to draw blood as you're needy more of him. The band in you is threatening to snap. He’s close too, quickening the rate at which he barrels into you. Reaching deeper and deeper as he makes eye contact with you. It’s so intimate that you feel yourself succumbing.

“Where do you wan’ it baby,” his eyes are glossed over with lust and his voice thick with desire. There’s only one place you want him, inside.

It’s like music to his ears, he’s spilling his seed in hot thick ropes as he stills himself balls deep inside you. You unravel, biting your lip as you squeeze him tighter than a vice, he’s groaning and shallowly pumping into your shaking form.

You never knew missionary on a sofa could feel so fucking good, he looks at you with such care in his eyes that you melt.

Osamu helps you clean up, apologizing for the frothy ring of cum on his base and the mess that pours out of you. He’s "a sucker for a cream pie" is what he tells you.

Things between you couldn’t remain as they were, you both knew that know after you practically devoured each other right down the hall from Atsumu’s room.

He brings you to his space, letting you shower and wipe yourself down (not without groping your curves between steps). You talk about what you should say or how to even go about it over breakfast he made, but this time you're wearing his shirt.

It’s safe to say Atsumu was not pleased losing one of his favorite fucks, but in some weird way he’s not completely pissed. He’s never seen Osamu so fucking selfish n' greedy before, so he must be pretty serious about you. In time he’ll forgive him, even swing by the restaurant to see you two.

“How’s it feel havin’ my seconds,” he’ll taunt behind your back to Osamu when you’re not around. Jutting his elbow into his brothers side.

Osamu rolls his eyes, “still bitter it’s my cock she’s begging for every night I see. Get better soon.” He knows you’re happier with him, sending a hardened look at Atsumu.

They both smile as you approach the table with snacks, dropping whatever argument as you greet them. “Hello Miya and better Miya.”

Osamu snickers, kissing your left hand with his engagement ring on it. Atsumu just grumbles under his breath. “Hello Mrs. Miya,” they both say in unison.