#i hope you enjoy! tysm for the prompt!
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farmhandler · 1 month ago
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lil prompt: wade gives logan and laura (and himself ofc) an at home spa day bc god knows they could both use it. (optional: with vanessa's help)
“I’m not good at this. Why do you keep making me do it?” Logan asked.
Wade sighed explosively, as though Logan's utter lack of interest in painting Wade's nails was a personal failing.
“Laura needs a role model now more than ever. How will you help paint her nails if you can’t even paint mine?”
"I think I could do a better job with my eyes closed," Laura said. Her eyes were, in fact, closed due to the cooling mask Wade had forced on her first thing when they'd come over. "Why do I have this on?"
"Your eyebags could give mine a run for their money," Wade said.
“She’s fucking eighteen years old," Logan said. "She doesn’t need my help painting her nails. And I'm pretty sure our 'eyebags' are genetic.”
“Then what about me, daddy?” Wade said, fluttering his lashes at Logan. Logan kicked his leg under the table.
Wade wasn't to be deterred. He wiggled his fingers imploringly, waiting, and Logan decided, fuck it, and he tried. Genuinely, really tried to paint Wade's nails, and paint them however he liked.
"Painting outside the lines," Wade said as he watched him make no attempt to try and keep the paint on his nail. "Your technique intrigues me, Peanut."
"Shut it. I've got this," Logan muttered. He finished painstakingly drawing a little star on each nail and then scraped away the paint around Wade's nail afterwards with tissues. He figured cleaning up this way was better than trying to be precise on the first try and failing anyway.
Wade kept a straight face the whole time. Then he lifted his nails and bit his lip, hard.
“Oh my god," he breathed. "What are those?"
"They're stars. The blue background is a night sky." Logan pointed the bottle at him. "You fucking do this shit with this tiny ass little brush. I'm not made for precision."
"You're telling me, sweetie. The edges of my nails are awful. They’re so bad. I love them,” Wade gushed. He smiled at Logan with genuine glee, and Logan felt warm all over in a way he fucking hated, because he'd been feeling it a lot more lately.
Then Wade’s phone rang.
“Can you answer that for me, sweetums? I’m currently very wet and trying to harden up.”
Shaking his head, Logan leaned forward and answered the call without looking. It was Vanessa, letting them know she'd found the LED lamp for the nails Logan had bought not knowing they needed a stupid lamp to work. Why they asked him to do this shit when he obviously didn't know what he was doing, he'd never know.
When she showed up, she also had a bunch of other shit Logan didn't want to have anywhere near him either.
"Sorry I took so long. I had to go to a couple places to find the lamp." Vanessa swept past Logan after tugging him down for a kiss on the cheek by the door and set her bag on the table. "You started without me?"
"Just some nail painting. And giving Laura's eyes a rest."
"My eyes are freezing," she said from the couch.
Logan sat down next to her, because it felt safer to do so. Laura hated this stuff as much as he did. Or at least he assumed she did. He'd never asked.
"You have any idea what all this is?" he asked her, once she lifted the mask from her face. Laura hummed.
"Some of it." She handed him one of the samples Vanessa had dumped from wherever she'd gone. "You should use this."
"Nighttime eye cream?" he read aloud. "And this is supposed to do what?"
Wade was sitting waiting for his nails to dry, so Vanessa walked over and ripped open the packet. She then dabbed the cream under his eyes and rubbed it in. When Logan tried to yank his head away, she grabbed his chin and made him sit tight.
"Come on, put up with it for five seconds," she said. "Trust me, you'll like this one."
The scent wasn't overpowering, which was a plus. Still strong, but that was most things. The cream had a surprisingly soft texture. Once she was done, he wasn't going to admit it felt kind of nice, but he didn't need to. Wade grinned at Logan like a loon.
"You don't have to look so fucking smug about all this," Logan muttered.
"You lost the bet, so I don't even need to pretend," Wade said cheerfully.
"Because you cheated," Logan hissed.
"And I didn't get caught!" Wade clapped his hands together, apparently deeming them dry. "All right, now let's get serious."
About half an hour later, Logan really was regretting letting Wade get away with cheating.
He had an itchy mask on his face, his hair was pinned back by a headband with kitten ears on it, and Wade could not look any more pleased if he tried. Logan had assumed the nails that needed a lamp to cure them were for Laura or Vanessa, but everybody insisted on putting them on him. So he sat there while these sparkly pink nails dried, and the facemask did whatever it was doing on his face.
Logan hated it, but Laura...Laura was laughing. She's been laughing. She thought Wade was funny, but Vanessa and Wade together really set her off. Logan had never seen her laugh so much.
Logan exhaled. Maybe regret wasn't the right word. And maybe he didn't hate it.
"You ready for your mud bath?" Wade asked, sitting down next to him.
"You'd better be joking, bub."
"Only slightly. I do have a hot tub that's been bath bombed with your name on it. And all the supplies I need to work on your feet while you do. Don't worry: I have fully and mentally prepared myself to pick the fungus out of your toes."
"Ew," Laura said to their right. Vanessa was in the middle of pulling her hair back to join the face mask crowd.
I'm not doing that, Logan almost said, and then looked at Laura, and Vanessa.
If he let the night end now, sure, he'd be more comfortable, but...well, he didn't hate all this.
The candles were nice. Wade had picked really subtle scents, and nothing too fruity or overly clean. They reminded Logan of his cabin, the one he hadn't visited in years. After a rain, when the forest surrounding it smelled heavy and sweet in a way he couldn't explain to anyone who didn't get it.
"Yeah, all right," he said. Wade looked surprised.
"You okay?" Wade asked, inexplicably. He scooted closer to Logan and touched his knee. "I really won't force you into it, if it's that bad."
"It's not." Logan touched his hand. Their nails looked completely mismatched, especially his. On his gnarled hands, the pink stood out badly. He lifted them into the light for inspection. "I could use a bath. You coming in with me?"
It was both a tease and a genuine question. Wade laughed, startled, still grinning that shit-eating grin.
"And fondle your toes directly? Absolutely."
Logan thought back to that kiss on his cheek. So he kissed Wade's cheek, and when Wade made a soft sound of surprise, Logan shifted his mouth a few inches over to Wade's.
Now Wade looked stunned. Someone cleared their throat behind them.
"No fondling," Logan said, rising to a stand.
"A little fondling," Wade said, finally recovering enough to speak. He leapt up and followed Logan.
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hoshiina · 8 months ago
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pairing: hoshina soushirou x gn!reader (no prns)
request: can i pretty please request a drabble where gen has a sibling and that said sibling and hoshina are dating? even better if gen's sibling is an officer/troop leader in the first division and partakes in the rivalry between the third and first division but outside of everyone's view— gen's sibling and hoshina are terribly lovey dovey!
warnings: reader wears short shorts in a scene
wc: 1200
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This was not something that started today. Rather, it had been this way for as long as anyone could remember.
From the moment you had joined the 1st Division, you had always been bickering with Hoshina— just like your brother. It was plain as day you were none other than the younger sibling of Narumi Gen. Although you lacked the power and passion for fame that Gen had, you weren't any less competitive than him.
However, unlike your brother, you were better at neutralizing smaller size Kaiju than him— naturally making you more competitive with Hoshina. While you were incredible at what you did, you seemed to fall just a step behind of Hoshina most of the time. You were insanely good, but Hoshina was just a little better. You had beaten him just once in the neutralization test of smaller sized kaiju, and you just couldn't seem to do it again.
This was well known among most of the first and third division, and they did enjoy your playful banter that arose even in the toughest of times. It wasn't always easy to keep the mood bright when things got difficult, but the two of you would never fail to do so. They hoped this would never change and your rivalry would never fade.
However, there were things that had changed that no one really knew of. The two of you had started dating a year ago, and you were madly in love. It was your little secret. Well, your little secret that Gen accidentally found out about.
Neither of you had told Gen about this and quite frankly, the two of you were planning to keep hiding this from him if it were possible. It wasn't new that he despised Hoshina quite a bit, and he was extremely weary of the people you meet, especially men. Naturally, to find out that Hoshina was your boyfriend wouldn't exactly be celebratory news for him. Not to mention that Gen was loud when he had complaints. You knew he absolutely would not shut up about it. So it really wasn't the plan when he had found out.
You were in your room lazing around in a baggy shirt, specifically Hoshina’s shirt, which covered your short-shorts while Hoshina was in your kitchen cooking something quick. Until you got a shared place, this happened rather often. It was either him in your room or yourself in his room. However, a lot of your stuff had found a place in his unit and vice versa, so it was very easy for you to visit each other whenever. A little too easy, perhaps.
“Hoshina, you don't have to make anything fancy,” you said. “Anything’s fine. You had a long day too.”
“I'm literally making us ochazuke. It couldn't be easier—” he was starting to say when the door swung open.
“Guess who's here!” Gen had yelled while walking into your place.
Immediately you looked back at Hoshina in the kitchen and gave up. “Oh gosh,” you said.
“What did I say about ringing the doorbell?!” you yelled back at him.
“And what did I say about locking the door?!” he exclaimed back.
“I thought I did—” you started to yell, but then you remembered you had forgotten to lock the door after Hoshina came in, hands full of groceries to stuff your empty fridge. You were a little too thrilled to see him. “My bad.”
You knew Hoshina was going to scold you later— he's been telling you to be more careful about locking up properly.
Gen saw the extra pair of shoes by your doorway and immediately met eyes with Hoshina in your kitchen.
“Why the hell are you here?!” he yelled.
“Oh, can you please be quiet,” you said. “He's visiting.”
“Why, hello! That would be me!” Hoshina said, greeting Gen properly now that it's come down to this.
“Why is he visiting you, in your room, alone, with you dressed like that?” Gen continued to ask. He wasn't understanding nor did it seem like he wanted to.
You let out a sigh, you didn't mean to, but there was no getting around this one. “What's wrong with having my boyfriend in my room,” you said.
“Your boyfriend? Hoshina?” Gen said, horrified. He didn't think matters could get worse, yet here he was. “Why him?”
“Oh, why not him?” you asked. “He's the best I could ever wish for.”
Hoshina didn’t expect that— especially not to your brother, just like that. His eyes widened as his heart tightened. Oh, how he absolutely adored you. You said it so naturally, as if merely stating a fact. To you, that really was all it was though.
Gen had a lot more to say and complain about while staying far too long, long enough to steal some ochazuke for dinner (which he also managed to complain about) before you were finally able to kick him out. Yet, through all of that, Hoshina couldn't be happier to be with you, bickering away as you ate a 5 minute meal at a small make-shift dining table.
As soon as Gen finally left, you spread your arms out in front of you, asking for a hug, which Hoshina promptly returned.
“He's finally gone…” you said, relieved it was finally just the two of you.
“Not sure he liked me much,” Hoshina said with a smile and you rolled your eyes.
“Like we didn't already know,” you said. “I really didn't plan for him to barge in like that.”
“I have to admit, I do enjoy watching you two bicker though. My brother and I are not nearly as close,” Hoshina said and you rolled your eyes again when he said ‘close’. You wouldn't ever explain your relationship as ‘close’. “However, you ought to make a habit of locking your door. What if that wasn't your brother and I wasn't here.”
“Yes,” you said, quietly but clearly— but avoiding eye contact. “I will.”
“Thank you for saying that earlier,” he said, turning your head to face his. “To this day I don't know what made you choose me.”
You immediately realized what he was talking about.
“Oh, please,” you said. “Be serious. I am the luckiest person alive by your side.”
He kissed you and you kissed back, but he truly wouldn't let you go. You started hitting his arm, hoping he would let go so you could catch your breath. After what felt like the longest moments ever he finally let you pull back, letting you breathe.
“Soushirou, I can't breathe!” you said, trying to sound irritated, but your tone lacked the edge you were hoping for.
He completely ignored you, however, and pulled you back into a tight embrace.
“I wish we could stay like this forever,” he said. “Just you and me.”
“In this small place?” you said, laughing a little.
“Absolutely wherever,” he said. “As long as you're here with me.”
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lxvi-gloria · 2 months ago
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Drabble Prompt: Post-canon Levi, struggling with chronic pain and mourning his dead loved ones, being visited by his still alive loved ones
Anon, you knew how to talk pretty to me <3
hihi requests are still open btw
I feel like I gotta put a disclaimer or something lmao. So, the length of my drabble requests is usually something between 100-400 words. This request is just an incredibly unexpected exception. it just happened to fit into this idea I already had been thinking of, which was how the remaining 104th would ask Levi to be part of important events in their lives because well, they like the dude lmao, so expect that sort of one-shot soon. Additionally, since I kept reminding myself that this was supposed to be a drabble, I might have glossed over the chronic pain and mourning bits so I'm sorry about that ;;
that being said, 2.4k words of Levi and Gabi be upon ye <3
Now on Ao3!
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The angry hissing of the kettle makes him flinch. It brings a loud ringing to his right ear. Instinctively, he places his right hand over it, and gives his ear a couple of gentle taps; it's more of a grounding gesture, a distraction from the buzzing. He usually keeps watch over the kettle, so that he can lower the heat just right before it gets a chance to scream at him. 
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He realises then that he must have spaced out while waiting. It’s alright, he thinks. It’s been like that a lot, recently. He’s been like that. Lost in thought-- lost in time, if he allowed himself to be precise. The last days, weeks even, as the temperatures started to drop, blended into each other. There’s a little calendar on his bedside table, it had been a birthday gift from Armin – or had that been Mikasa’s? He isn’t sure, he had received an absurd number of presents from the kids last year, it had been hard to keep track of who gave him what and now the fact escaped him. Turning the pages of the little calendar, with its delicate botanical illustrations on each day, quickly became part of his morning routine, and so he was sure that time was passing at all. The stillness of the routine, he guesses, made him like this.
His vision blurs momentarily while he scoops the tea leaves into the teapot. He squints, trying to will his good eye to focus, but all he gets in return is a throb in his right eye. After putting the tea canister away, he presses the inner sides of his wrists to both eyes, placing just enough pressure to relieve the discomfort. When he opens his eyes again, he is pleased to find he can read the small print on the canister an arm’s length away. 
There’s a loud slam coming from the front of the house, followed by footsteps coming further into the house.
He quickly recognizes the heavy stomping as Gabi’s gait. She’s always been so loud.
Gabi crosses the arch into the small kitchen and dining area. 
“Don’t slam my doors,” he says as a greeting, slowly turning his head to his left side, trying to catch a glimpse of her in his periphery.
“Aye, aye,” the kid waves her hand, shoots him a teasing grin, “someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”
Levi hums in response but doesn’t say anything else. He busies himself with placing everything they need for their morning tea and coffee on a metal tray on the counter, which Gabi takes from him as soon as it’s ready and sets it on the table.
He grabs his cane from where he had hooked it on one of the kitchen drawers. He has been leaning against the counter, his right leg supporting most of his weight all this time. He braces himself for the sharp pain that will surely surge from his bad knee, through his left hip and up his spine. Cold mornings like this one and being still in one place for long will do that to him. It’s not so bad. It could be worse.
It takes 4 steps to get from the stove to his chair, which Gabi has already pulled out for him. It sits at an angle that allows him to easily slide down on it and rest his right elbow on top of the table, leaning back and against his good side.
“I have something that will cheer you up,” she holds a couple of envelopes in her hand and waves them at him, “You’ve got mail!”
He nods at her in acknowledgement but does not take his attention away from preparing his first batch of tea of the day. There’s a ritual to it, it almost feels like, and he doesn’t want to mess it up. Not when the ringing in his ear is still there, the building pressure in the upper back part of his eyeballs, and the cold air seeping into his bones through his thick jumper. Oh, how he needs a good cup of tea right now.
While Levi waits for it to steep, he grabs the papers that she had shoved in his face, squints his eyes at the first envelope and finds that he is unable to make out much of the handwriting. He brings it closer to his face, squints harder, steals a quick glance across the table and hopes Gabi isn’t paying him any mind, too preoccupied with choosing from the bag of pastries she brought with her. It is with an impassive expression that he hands the stack of envelopes back. 
“Read it for me.” A beat and then he adds, a little reluctant: “Please.”
He knows Gabi prefers coffee in the mornings, and black tea in the evenings, so he makes sure to have a fresh brew of the former whenever he knows she’s coming over; so, with shaky hands, Levi gets to prepare her cup of coffee. While he enjoys the aroma of it, he remains faithful to tea; at first, he thought he didn’t like it because he had butchered his first attempts at brewing it. But even after Onyankopon had taught him how to do it properly and he had enjoyed his cup, it didn’t bring the same comfort as tea. It just never hit the spot.
She shoots him a mischievous grin, “Oh, you sure? What if I read something personal, hm?” 
Levi just shakes his head, scoffing at the idea of Gabi finding his junk mail fascinating.
“Is this how I find out you have a secret lover you’re exchanging raunchy love letters with?” Gabi teases, wiggling her eyebrows at him.
He lets out a tired sigh and rolls his eyes, “just wanna be done with it, ” he stirs the milk into Gabi’s coffee, which now has turned into a cup of milk with coffee. “We have a lot to prepare for tonight.”
She clicks her tongue at him, but still rips the first envelope open, “Mr. Levi, your reading won’t improve if you keep doing that,” she jokingly scolds him.
Although Levi mentally recognises handing her and Falco stuff he couldn’t be bothered reading before, that’s not the case this time. He’ll let her think that for now, though, because he doesn’t want to mention the pressure building in the back of his bad eye, it’s not important and she, a kid, doesn’t need to know his newly found ailment of the week. He can see just fine around him right now. He can see Gabi’s big eyes and playful smile at the other side of the table, and that’s good enough; smaller details, he doesn’t feel he can do them, not without making himself go dizzy with a migraine.
Levi slides the cup of coffee to her and is pleased with himself when she approves of the colour of her drink.
“It’s from Armin,” she announces as she scans the letter. 
From this angle, the soft morning light illuminating her face and thanks to his faulty vision, Gabi’s image stirs his memory. His heart faintly constricts as he is reminded of the many times Hange read their research reports to him during breakfast in the mess hall before presenting them to Erwin. Levi always wondered how they could read so fast, sometimes he even doubted they were actually reading at all, their words barely being able to catch up with her eyes; he never asked about it, maybe reading came easy to them as numbers did to him.
A high-pitched squeal from Gabi startles him, bringing him back to the here and now.
“Oh… ohh, Mr. Levi,” she starts, her smile widening by the second “This is good news!”
Gabi makes a show of clearing her throat and then starts reading “Dear Captain, I hope this letter finds you well and in good health.” 
Levi can’t help but let a sardonic huff at the irony of the greetings but doesn’t let himself be bothered by it. He has written only a handful of personal letters throughout his life, and by now he knows it’s just something you’re supposed to say because jumping straight to the point isn’t acceptable, or so that’s what he had been told. 
Gabi continues reading Armin’s words to him. For the most part, it’s a standard letter coming from him: he asks Levi how he’s dealing with the changing of the seasons, how Gabi and Falco are faring, if business at the tea shop has been good, if there’s anything Levi needs that he can’t get in town so that Armin or the others can get it for him. He tells him a little about the country he’s writing from, he even includes a photograph. Then, after the expected pleasantries, Gabi can barely hold her excitement and starts reading faster, trying so hard not to trip over her words.
“If I’m being sincere, we would prefer to ask you in person,” Gabi stops for a second to look up at him from the paper, gauging for a reaction and finding nothing, she continues. 
Armin apologises for not being able to visit him before the holidays, Annie included, and so it is implied that he won’t be attending tonight’s reunion. 
Sometime during the last five years, the Alliance brats had decided to make showing up at Levi’s doorstep together once a year a sort of custom; the first time it happened was during an early winter, a blizzard had stopped them from leaving Levi’s until the next morning. It had been a really nice evening despite the awful weather, Levi remembers, after everyone pitched in one way or another, they all shared a simple but hearty meal together. It was Connie who jokingly said they should do it every year. The following year, Onyankopon, Gabi and Falco joined them. 
This year would be their fourth, and the first someone wouldn’t make it. That fact sits heavily in Levi’s chest, stealing the spotlight from his throbbing eye.
“...Annie and I have decided to get married. The both of us would like you to officiate our ceremony!” unable to contain her excitement, she tears her eyes away from the paper and looks at Levi. “Huh?! This is good news! What’s with the constipated face?!”
That doesn’t sound right. It figures that Annie and Armin would be the first to marry; in a way, he is happy for them, they clearly care for each other. No, that part is easy to understand. Their union is logical to anyone who knows the couple. What Levi can’t figure out is why they are asking him such a thing.
He clears his throat, assumes it’s been 3 minutes and his tea is ready to be poured and so he distracts himself with that.
When he doesn’t answer Gabi, she picks up where she left off. 
He isn’t… well, he isn’t that close to either of them. He’s sure Annie must have other relatives that could step in his stead. Maybe a brother, a cousin. Even Jean or Reiner would be better options than Levi. He isn’t good with words or people like they are, he couldn’t possibly give them a speech about something foreign to him as it is that kind of love, that’s what people expect, right? His title of Captain is obsolete in this new world, so it can’t be that either. Hell, he has never been to a fucking wedding. 
Just… why him?
As expected, Armin doesn’t really go into the details of their choice but does let Levi know they do not expect a fast answer and that they do not want him to feel pressured to accept it, despite how much it would mean to them if he did. Armin asks if there’s anything in particular that he would like for his birthday, as it is a month away, and closes the letter by saying he looks forward to seeing him and everyone then.
When the letter is closed and put back into its envelope, silence falls around them. For a moment the only sound that can be heard is the clinking of tableware as Levi places the teacup back on its saucer.
It bothers him, that he knows he will be letting Armin down by refusing something that any other well-adapted person would consider an honour. But the thought of embarrassing him and himself, because he gave an awkward, most likely insensitive, speech, mortifies him. No, he can’t put them and their guests through that. He will find a way to make it up to the couple, maybe he can… he doesn’t know yet, but he will come up with something.
As he finishes his first cup, Levi realises that at some point while he was lost in thought, the ringing in his ear has subsided and now it’s back to that muffled, cotton-in-ear sensation he’s used to and he doesn’t feel his eyeball pulsating anymore. Glancing at Gabi, he notices she is trying really hard not to say something, her brow furrowed as she takes a sip of her own drink, followed by a big bite of her pastry. Flakes stick to the corner of her mouth and for once it doesn’t disgust him. Instead, it makes his lips twitch as if going into a smile.
“I can help you... if you want,” she says eventually, sounding uncharacteristically careful and small of her.
Levi quirks an eyebrow “Help? with what?” 
She shrugs, “How to… tell them you don’t want to,” she avoids looking at him for the first time, finding the flakes on her plate more interesting. She shrugs again and tilts her head to the side, a thin line of a smile appearing on her face. “...or prepare for the ceremony.”
Not unlike many times before, Gabi’s words render him speechless, if only for a moment. He spares his tea a glance and he thinks: it’s bold of her to be so upfront about offering her help to him, and had it been any other morning, one where he couldn’t think past the constant ache in his body, he would’ve chewed her head off for simply trying to help him because he himself doesn’t know how to accept that kindness.
This kid is trying her best and he can’t help but feel somewhat proud of that.
“You have shit on your face. Here,” he points to where the flakes would sit on his own face and picks his refilled teacup back up.
Gabi quickly wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, getting most of the flakes off. Levi gives her a thumbs-up with his free hand.
“I’ll think about it,” he finally concedes and tries to ignore the little happy dance she does in her seat.
This time, when the amber liquid touches his lips, it’s remarkably sweeter than before.
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blackjackkent · 1 year ago
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"Why? Because of what you are." or "We tried, and we failed." for hector for the lyric prompts?
(TY for the prompt! Sorry it took me this long to respond lol. I hope you see this since I can’t tag you. D: 
I'm not sure if you are the same anon-friend who said they were tickled by Hector's previous interactions with the Emperor, but if so, well… this one is definitely not funny, but it is about the Emperor! And it’s long! And feelsy! So there’s that. :P
I'm going to go ahead and set this within Hector's liveblog and directly after this post specifically, because I am still emotional about it; originally my intention was to let him vent and expend some frustration but this definitely ended up going in a very different direction. The game doesn't give us an opportunity for a followup conversation with Karlach until morning, which leads me to believe she straight up just doesn't come back to camp that night and Hector lies alone in their tent, staring at the ceiling for hours in a sort of emotionally fragile haze before finally drifting off into restless dreams…)
PROMPT: 70 Lyric Prompts - “Why? Because of what you are.”
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Hector knows where he is without opening his eyes. The air within the Astral Prism is still, but there is something undefinable about it that feels different, some scent or taste or even the texture of the atmosphere on his skin. Foreign. Strange. Wrong. 
He shudders. He doesn't want to look around. He doesn't want to see anyone right now, not really; after the conversation with Karlach over Gortash's dead body, he feels like something ripped into his chest and removed his heart. He barely even spoke to anyone when they returned to camp, just spent hours bashing his fists desperately into the training dummy beside Lae'zel's empty tent and then collapsed into his bedroll as if there was any relief to be found in sleep. 
But he wants least of all to see the Emperor, and that is what he knows he will see if he looks around - the mind flayer's beady lavender stare and twitching tentacles and implacable agenda of transformation and destruction. 
“Go away,” he mutters hoarsely, and does not open his eyes. 
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“We must speak,” the creature rumbles. “Gortash is dead. Our plan must move forward.”
Hector's eyes squeeze tighter shut and he rolls onto his side away from the illithid voice, curling into himself. “There is no our plan,” he growls. “There is your plan and my plan. And I want no part of yours tonight.”
“Yet you will hear it, nevertheless, because you must,” the Emperor continues implacably. There is the soft, almost imperceptible sound of shifting fabric, of the illithid levitating along the ground. “With Gortash dead, you will mean to face down Orin. The battle ahead will try your abilities to the utmost. You must reconsider the use of the Astral Tadpole if you are to--”
“No.”
“Why will you not simply--” 
“Why?” Hector answers flatly. “Because of what you are. Because of what you want me to become. I want no part of it, I never have, and we are not having this conversation tonight.”
“It is not a question of wanting. It is a question of what must be.” The mind flayer pauses, then continues implacably, “Karlach's death is a regrettable loss, but you must look beyond it. You and I--”
Something snaps inside Hector's brain and he feels suddenly choked with a surge of emotion too complex for easy definition - rage and grief and exhaustion and disgust. “Leave me alone!” he snarls. His eyes come open and he rolls to his front, through his knees and onto his feet in a smooth motion that curves itself into an unthinking punch in the direction from which the Emperor was speaking. 
The Emperor is too quick, and darts backward before the blow can land. It hovers just out of reach, looking at him with that unreadable stare, and makes a clicking noise from somewhere within the maw beneath its tentacles. “Foolish,” it murmurs. “I am not your enemy, Hector. I never have been.”
Hector stares back at it, for once not bothering to hide any of his anger. “You know,” he spits angrily, “you do a very good impression of humanity. You've almost made me believe it sometimes. But sometimes it's really obvious that Withers is right - that you have no soul. Because no human would ever think that this was the right time for a strategy meeting.”
He turns away, walks to the edge of the floating rock on which the two of them are standing. “If you have something in mind that can save Karlach, I want to hear that. But I don't want to hear about your plan, or our connection, or our partnership. I don't want to hear about the Knights of the Shield, or bloody Stelmane and how she was the love of your poor misbegotten life. And I don't want to hear about your fucking tadpole.”
Anyone else might have been surprised to hear the curse on his lips, but the Emperor listens impassively, its tentacles barely even twitching. 
“So shut up,” Hector finishes coldly, staring out at the unending starscape. “And leave me be.”
There is a long silence. Finally the Emperor speaks, and even for it, the words are slow, low, and very carefully controlled. “Perhaps you think I tolerate such disrespect with equanimity.”
“Oh, go ahead, then,” Hector says with a humorless laugh. “Kill me. Suck my brain out. You won't, of course. Because you need me.” He scowls. “Pity. I would welcome oblivion right now.”
“Were I weaker of spirit than I am,” the illithid growls, “I would grant it. It is lucky for us both that I am not.”
Hector's fists clench at his sides. “Why?” he asks, and it's a demand less of the Emperor and more of the universe, of any gods that might be listening. “Why do I get to live and she gets to die? Answer me that, if you can, you eldritch bastard.”
“I have no more control over Karlach's fate than you do.” A pause. Its tentacles give a sharp, spasmodic twitch.  “Except in one regard,” it adds, with a sudden strange cruel brightness in its voice. “The tadpole would transform her, you know, just as it would transform you. She would have no need for her engine heart. No limit to the years you could have together...”
Hector goes utterly still, the blood draining out of his face. “No,” he whispers.
“There, you see?” the Emperor says caustically. “It is I who offer to heal her, and you that would let her die.”
“Shut up.” He tries to put force into the words but they emerge hollow, broken. The Emperor has found the weak point in his armor, stuck a knife into it, and twisted.
“Are you so selfish,” the mind flayer presses, “that you cannot see the value of what I have to offer? It is strength, and it can be life.”
He sinks to his knees on the edge of the platform, his breath starting to come in sudden sharp bursts. “She has taught me… some things are more important than living or dying…”
“And when you see her burning from the inside out, I am sure those things will seem very important indeed,” the Emperor murmurs. 
“Shut up,” he says shakily.
“I am sure you will watch her scream and think fondly on your principles, on the strength that you turned down because you lacked the courage to evolve.”
“Shut up.” Hector hunches forward, his fists pressed into the stone beneath him, as if curling away from a physical attack.
“And when she is gone, your forbearance will provide great comfort in a cold bed.”
“SHUT UP!” The roar bursts from him and cracks apart into a sob. Tears flood his eyes, blurring his vision. “Gods… please… just leave me alone. I can’t… I can’t… she is dying and she is in so much pain, and I can’t help her, I can’t stop it. If you were anything less than a monster, you would grieve with me, you would want to help her… you would give a single, solitary damn… but you don’t. All you care about is your fucking worm, and it’s all falling apart… it’s all gone… it’s all gone…”
The tears are coming heavier now, choking him, blinding him. “What the hell am I going to do?” he whispers. “I won’t… I won’t do it, I won’t do what you want… I won’t become an… an abomination just to save my heart… I won’t take her choice from her… but how will I bear it…? ”
He realizes, suddenly, that he is awake, that his fists are clenched into his pillow which is soaking wet with tears, that his whole body is being wracked with each gasping sob, that his bedroll is tangled around his legs, constricting him, trapping him. “Oh, gods…” he whispers brokenly. “My Lady, help me, please… please… the night is so dark…”
“Hector?” Shadowheart is crouched at the flap of the tent, peering through at him with an expression of uncharacteristic concern. As he rolls over awkwardly to look at her, he sees faint movement behind her, a flash of Jaheira’s eyes in the dimness, the curve of one of Wyll’s horns. Gods, did he wake the whole camp bawling?
“I’m-- I’m sorry,” he mutters hoarsely. “A bad dream… I’m-- I’ll be fine.”
She frowns, glances sideways at someone unseen beside her in the dark. “Do you… erm. Need to talk about it?” she asks, with an awkwardness that he might find touching if he were not so utterly lost in his own grief. 
“No,” he answers. It is an old habit now to turn away, to hide his feelings, to withdraw into an air of aloofness and control-- though he makes a poor show of it just now, with his eyes red and body trembling. Oh, what’s the point? “Yes,” he adds in a low mutter after a pause. “Maybe. But…not now. Rest. You need to rest, all of you.”
She looks at him for a long moment, then nods and withdraws into the darkness. 
He rolls over and stares at the ceiling of the tent with a heavy breath out. The grief still sits in his gut like a heavy stone, and his breath still feels caught in his throat.
And the Emperor’s voice still whispers in the back of his mind, implacable and cold as ice. “Think about what I told you. We both know that very little time is left…”
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hoshigray · 1 year ago
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𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - oral (m! receiving) - ball-massaging - face + throat-fucking - praise - pet names (baby, cutie, mama, sweet thing) - implied that reader has given oral prior - first-time Toji finding enjoyment in receiving oral - heavy depictions of a blowjob - mention of spit.
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: "Toji has never really enjoyed oral. At least, not until Y/n went down on them for the first time…"
I was playing with NSFW prompts for the first time, and this was literally the first one it gave me…genius. (¬‿¬) guess kinda a switch-up from this oldie i did~ hope you all had a wonderful Christmas and New Year's, accept this as my welcome back present, hehe~ also tysm for 4.6k, hello????
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.6k
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“…Hey, Toji?” 
“Yeah, baby?”
“…Can I…..give you a blowjob?”
Up until this point, Toji was never one to be given oral from anyone. 
Giving oral isn’t a problem. But receiving it from someone else? That’s another thing. Call it his personal preference or years of sexual experience, but the older man never actually found pleasure in it. It could be from the many inexperienced minxs he’s had to get his dick wet, whose frequent teeth and bites sabotaged the mood for him. Or probably from the others who just really didn’t appear to know what they were doing — again, ruining the mood. Or the fact that most of the time, as mentioned, he finds himself satisfying his partner at the time more than himself. 
Not that he minds at all; no, no. He finds great satisfaction in going in between someone’s legs and getting them turned on from his work. But when it comes to the thought of having his dick sucked, it’s a hard pass. Respectfully. 
Which brings us to the present: him on the couch with an arm wrapped behind your shoulders, bringing you close to him as you watch television comfortably. The ceiling lights dimmed to a warm low glow, your head draped on his shoulder as his hand rubs comforting circles on yours, and the silence only filled with the voices coming from the TV isn’t awkward in the presence of you two. Why would it be? He’s with you, his little sweet thing. And that’s all he wants right now.
So, after all the fidgeting with your thumbs and the occasion glances at him (which he noticed, of course), it was apparent that you’d soon ask him something out of the blue. What he hadn’t expected, though, was that question. 
“Pfft, that’s random,” he scoffs at the sudden question, and more subtle chuckles resort from the bashful turn of your head. God, you were so cute. “Why ask, sweet thing?”
“I was…just wondering, you know?” Your eyes travel down to your twiddling thumbs, avoiding Toji’s deep, observant emerald gaze. “We’ve been together for this long, and not once have I ever given you a blowjob. And I know, you always say you’re fine with it, but like…I really wanna give you one.”
And that’s when you muster up some confidence to peer up at him meekly, and that’s what seals the deal for Toji. Who is he to deny such puppy dog eyes from his baby? 
“Okay then,” he chortles with a smirk, the scar on his right side rooted up. It’s just a blowjob. If not for me, then for them. “Do what you do, cutie.” Little did he know that this would blow his expectations far out.
It started out nice and slow. Toji indulged in your kisses as you snuck your hand into the hem of his drawstring pants, sucking on his tongue while fingers crept inside his boxer briefs to give his cock a rub. He groans into your mouth, liking how you’re setting the mood until you take your lips away from his and slide off the couch to be between his legs. Removing his underwear to the floor, you examine his half-soft dick before using your hands to wrap around the base, massaging around it while you take the tip in your mouth. Toji sighs in bliss at the feeling of your soft licks and rolls of your tongue, shifting around to get more comfortable on the couch.
His erection becomes less and less flaccid, hardening around your mouth. This is where you decide to take in more of his length, hallowing your cheeks as you push your puffy lips down halfway down his erection. By the time you reach this base, your throat is so full of Toji’s girth that you use his sweatpants as reins for your hands as you try to give yourself a few seconds to adjust to the limb occupying your throat. You continue to suck on his cock, bobbing up and down with your saliva coating him, your tongue moving around on the underside of his dick every time you suck up to the tippy top. 
The sucks and strokes to his length become a little faster, and it’s here that Toji can’t concentrate on the television. Subtle twitches of his leg result from the hummed moan you express while taking him to the hilt. The vibrations that resonate along the inner walls of your throat are felt. It feels so good. And the tongue of yours? Fuck. His brows trench down when your tongue licks from the bottom of his ridge to the frenulum, giving his cockhead an onslaught of rough licks and kisses that has Toji exhale through his nose. “Hmmnn, fuck…Y/n, baby, y’re so good at this…Uhghh!”
You release his tip with a soft ‘plop’ with a string of saliva connecting your lips to his spit-covered cock. “Ahahhn, really?” Oh, fucking shit, don’t look at him like that. Your hooded eyes peering up at him with a soft smile while your hands maintain a stroking rhythm that has Toji squirm around your grasp. And then you surprise him with a grasp of his ballsack, oh you’re a devilish cutie. “That makes me happy to know,” you give him a giggle when Toji involuntarily bucks to your hands; the veiny limb contrasting with your pretty fingers is such a sight to see. The pulsating commotion between your legs progresses more by the second.
More dangerous licks paired with the massage to his balls as Toji huff is bliss. “Ahhh, sh–shit…Ya like how my dick tastes, mama?”
Taking his cock back into your mouth with alluringly half-lidded eyes is the answer you give him, your lips covering your teeth as your jaw relaxes to welcome his neither limb back inside your warm oral cavity. The suction of your hallow cheeks became lethal with the increased speed, your tongue now swirling around him and creating such deviant noises that only Toji focuses on despite the television vices failing to drown them out. 
Holy shit, Toji wasn’t expecting this kind of treatment at all. This was downright out of the water from all the other oral ordeals he’s had in his life. How the fuck were you so good at this!? Cupping his balls while slurping his dick was such a dangerous combo; Toji doesn’t know how long he’ll contain the urge to stand and fuck your face here and now. Goddamn, the faster you bob your lips on him, the shiver down his spine is hard to ignore. His hips jerking to your mouth; he wants to fuck your face so bad. And just looking at your ass sway while you suck on him, he knows you’re enjoying this as well. 
It reaches a point where he can’t take it anymore — he wants to go faster and harder. So Toji grabs your head as he stands up and dials the tempo to a harsher motion, propelling your lips down to his pelvis. And you’re quick not to panic, being sure to breathe when Toji smacks his testicles to your chin and ruts into your face and throat with no mercy. Toji moans at the sensation of your gummy walls wrapping around his length, hissing at your muffled wails as he hits the back of your throat. “Fsshhh—Hnngh!! Fuckin’ shit, just like that, mama, just like that…Ohhggh!”
You can feel the veins on his girth pulsate, indicating that his release is soon coming. The thrusts to your face get erratically faster, so you’re sure to grab onto his sweatpants to make sure you don’t lose balance as he spills his load down your throat. Ending it with a few rough hits to your lips, Toji groans with gritted teeth, shaky, strong legs pumping his semen for you to drink, which you merrily take with muzzled squeals on his shaft. The both of you experience the last moment of this euphoric high until Toji’s body calms down, heavy breaths going slower with every expel. He gives you a few moments to suck him off a little more before removing himself from you, gradually pulling his length, quivering with the aftershocks at the dismissal of your warm walls around him. And he jolts when you tease him with one last lick to the sensitive tip. 
“Hahhh, damn, cutie,” Toji takes a seat back on the couch, eyeing you down with a weary smirk and furrowed brows. “Since when did ya like to get down and dirty?”
You sheepishly smile back and avert your eyes down, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “I’m glad you liked it, Toji.” 
“Sure as hell did,” he bends down to grab your chin and bring you in for a kiss. The squeaks you let out when he bites your lips are too adorable and hot to his ears. “Want me to eat you out, sweet thing?”
“Really?” God, you were too cute — beaming at him like that with such a lovely smile. 
“Sure thing. Besides, I saw the way you were movin' that ass while suckin’ me off. So, I got you,” Toji takes off his sweatpants, moving his legs to be on the couch entirely. His dick is still standing erect, and he gives you a suggestive grin before tapping his chest, a sign for you to get ready and sit on him. “Only if ya can do that shit on me again.” The request takes you aback for a minute, but you chuckle and stand up. You remove your bottoms and underwear, and Toji notices the wet spot on the material. 
Again, Toji is never one to be given oral. But if he’s going to be treated like this, you might be able to change his mind.
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2023 – dividers from @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.
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gothcsz · 9 days ago
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El Cumpleañero | Javier Peña x F!Reader | ~8.3k wc | Explicit. Minors DNI.
Summary: It's Javier's birthday, so you show up to his party and things get fun.
Tags: friends with benefits dynamic, jealous!javi (can't help myself), flirting, dancing, javi is a little ooc here but idgaf i need him (in my head he's a bit younger in this au), some untranslated spanish, smut, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), back shots for days, a lil bit of exhibitionism on javi's part, creampie, one use of a degrading term (slut), some dirty talk, pussy pronouns, facial, no use of y/n, reader is afab and able-bodied, little to no physical descriptions of reader, any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i missed any other tags pls let me know okay, thanks!
A/N: hiiii everyone! this is my humble submission to @yxtkiwiyxt's never have i ever challenge with my prompt being never have i ever woken someone else because i was too loud during sex 🙈 kiwi bb tysm for hosting such a lovely writing challenge for us, i hope you enjoy this smutty fic! oh, and i am dedicating this one to @letsmeetintheafterglow, amorcito, you left such me a juicy request in my inbox for javi that i just had to write! so, i merged it with the challenge prompt 🖤 hope you dream of him tambien ☁️ also, i couldn't help but project my fantasy of wanting to dance to corrido/banda music with javier. i feel like he's actually a pretty good dancer! swinging ya around to the beat of the song with his hand at your lower back and a modelo in the other. ugh. the song la niña fresa basically inspired the nickname javi calls reader 🍓 and just sets the vibes, i think. as always, let me know that you think and thank you for reading 🖤
The backyard is buzzing with the chatter and laughter of what feels like half the town, the smoky scent of barbecue wafting through the air and the twang of a corrido blasting from oversized speakers, making the ground shake.
You walk through the fenced yard, the southern breeze grazing your skin as familiar faces nod or wave in passing. Your eyes scan the crowd, skimming past clusters of people dancing and conversing, all of them gathered to celebrate someone who swore he didn’t want a fuss.
Of course his family didn’t listen. They turned his “keep it small” request into a blowout, like they always do, inviting anyone and everyone. Not that he could stay mad—he never really does.
When you spot the man of the hour, the corner of your lips lift instinctively and your feet seem to move on their own accord, pulling you toward him.
He’s by the bonfire, the glow of the flames painting his chiseled features in shades of gold and shadow. He stands with his hip jutting out, a cigarette balanced between his fingers, sharing it lazily with two girls you barely recognize.
They hang on to his every little move, trying to soak up whatever attention he might spare. It’s a scene you’ve witnessed too many times, and you really can’t blame them.
You’ve been in their shoes (still are, truth be told), waiting for even a flicker of his focus to land on you, and you know all too well where that desperation led.
To his bed, on his tongue, his cock—you shiver at the memory, your nipples pulling taut.
He’s the kind of man who doesn’t have to try to make hearts ache; it’s just who he is.
A walking daydream wrapped in leather and indifference, with that devil-may-care grin that promises trouble and delivers every time.
You roll your eyes and huff sassily, detouring toward one of the coolers instead. You grab a drink, making polite small talk with a couple of acquaintances, though you can’t keep your gaze from wandering back to him.
He’s already looking at you.
It stops you mid-sentence the way his brown eyes are fixed on you, heavy with intention.
The cigarette is at his lips, the faint glow of its cherry pulses when he sucks in then lets out a ribbon of smoke. 
He makes it look so damn hot, it’s almost enough to persuade you into picking up the bad habit.
The curly haired beauty next to him is chattering a mile a minute, but it’s clear he isn’t listening.
His focus remains locked on you, sweeping slowly—mischievously—down the length of your body. You can feel it, as sure as a touch, lingering at the deep neckline of your sweater then on the way your jeans hug your curves. It’s shameless, but that’s him, isn’t it?
Your smile tilts into a puckish smirk. Lifting your hand, you wiggle your fingers in a small wave.
It’s like striking a match. His gaze narrows slightly as if he’s trying to decide his next move.
He hands off the cigarette with a casual flick of his wrist and shifts his focus back to the girl beside him. She’s still rambling, her words tumbling over each other in an eager attempt to hold his attention.
He doesn’t bother pretending to care. Instead, he lets out an indulgent chuckle, shaking his head like whatever nonsense just came out of her mouth is equal parts adorable and absurd.
You almost feel bad for her. It’s hard not to fall for that sleazy charm—especially when it’s attached to a man that’s so fucking handsome.
When she swivels to chat with her friend, his eyes immediately find yours again. A cocky expression paints his countenance, one that practically asks: What the hell are you doing all the way over there?
You entertain the idea of making him wait, savoring the power in holding his attention hostage for just a moment longer. But who are you kidding? The magnetic pull he has over you is impossible to resist. It always is.
The small box tucked snugly in the back pocket of your jeans presses against you as you weave through the crowd, sidestepping a few overly tipsy guests and slipping past the fold-out tables scattered across the lawn. 
“Hey,” you say, sliding yourself effortlessly between the two girls, not caring about interrupting their conversation. Immediately, their sharp side-eyes practically stab you with twin daggers of irritation.
You don’t flinch. You’re not here for them, anyway.
You only care about the pair of deep brown eyes that make you feel like you’re the only person in the world when he looks at you. “Happy Birthday, Javier.”
A flicker of what looks like smugness and amusement crosses his face as he licks his lips, taking another measured drag.
He’s dressed in a variant of his signature look—a white button-up with a few buttons let loose to show off his neck and the top of his chest, despite the brisk autumn air, and a worn brown leather jacket accentuating his broad shoulders.
However, it’s the ridiculous tiara perched atop his head that catches your eye, and the sight makes you frown ever so slightly when you notice the matching glittery ones on his groupies, like it’s some inside joke you’re not a part of.
For some inexplicable reason—it rubs you the wrong way. You can’t believe you’re slightly jealous of it. How stupid.
“Thank you, fresita.” 
Ugh, that infuriating nickname. You’d been charmed by it at first, assuming it was something sweet and impish. It wasn’t until Chucho let it slip that it’s also used to describe a woman that’s spoiled and picky that you realized it wasn’t just affectionate; it was also dig at your finer tastes.
And so what if you are a little high maintenance?
You don’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction, even though he loves coaxing it out of you. Instead, you tilt your head slightly, letting a soft undercurrent of flirtation lace your voice as you ask, “Mind if I pull you aside? I’d like to give you your gift.”
His interest is evident in the way his brow raises and the girls bristle slightly, their expressions shifting to thinly veiled jealousy once they realize he’s no longer focused on them. You captured him the moment he saw you amidst the crowd.
“We were just finishin’ up,” Javi says casually, dropping the cigarette and crushing it beneath his boot. He flicks a glance at the two disappointed faces, his smirk widening. “Con permiso, chicas. Thanks for the smoke.”
As he steps away from them, you feel a little triumphant thrill surge in your chest. They look deflated, their pouty expressions almost comical as they watch him leave with you, muttering goodbyes under their breaths.
The curly haired woman stares you down, and you try not to let the smug victory of whisking him away be too obvious… though you can’t help but smile condescendingly before fully turning away. 
“Some fan club you’ve got,” you tease once the two of you are finally alone, near the entrance of the sunroom that’s a part of the house.
He smirks, leaning against the siding and tilting his head, once more eyeing you down like you’re the finest thing he’s ever seen. “You jealous?” 
You scoff, shaking your head in mock disbelief. “Absolutely not.” It’s a little white lie, since you had felt a twinge of that pesky envy, but you don’t want him to know that. He’d either give you shit for it, or on the more extreme end, rethink this arrangement he currently has with you.
And you’d rather not lose it. Not right now, at least. You’re having too much fun letting Javier fuck your brains out on a consistent basis. 
Slowly, you close the space between you, your fingers darting up to flick the tacky tiara perched on his head. “Cute.”
Before you can step back, his hands are on you—big and warm as they grip your waist and pull you flush against his chest.
The force of it has you sighing out in satisfaction. There’s something wholly fucking addictive about the way he handles you.
His hands know exactly where to place themselves, his fingers applying the perfect amount of pressure to set the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy.
“No need to be, baby. You know you’re my favorite.” If your friends knew you were hooking up with the town slut, they’d definitely stage an intervention before you could finish your next sentence. Laying out all the reasons why letting Javier Peña into your bed was a one-way ticket to heartbreak city.
They’d call it desperation. They’d call it lowering your standards.
But what they don’t know is that standards start to feel awfully overrated when Javier has you pinned to a mattress, whispering filthy promises in your ear as his hands map every inch of your body. They don’t know what it’s like to have his full attention—his lips trailing worshipful kisses down your skin, his gravelly voice murmuring sweet nothings in Spanish that you don’t fully understand from how he slurs them together but feel all the same.
Being around him is electric, intoxicating, a high you’re not quite ready to give up.
So no, your friends don’t know. And as long as you can keep this thing between you and Javier your little secret, they never will.
“You gonna let me unwrap my gift or what?” His hand slides lower to cup your right cheek with shameless familiarity, giving it a frisky spank that makes you giggle.
This man and his obsession with your ass—it’s borderline ridiculous, and yet, you’re absolutely here for it.
“Later, maybe,” you reply with faux coyness, your finger dragging along his mustache then over to his pouty lips. He purses them, placing a kiss to the tip of your finger, “if you’re not too busy.”
His hold on your backside tightens, voice morphing into something more sultry, raspier, which is your absolute weakness. It makes your thighs rub together. “You know I always make time for you.”
You laugh softly at that. More often than not, you’re the one initiating while he only reaches out when it suits him. It’s not ideal at times, but you don’t get hung up on it.
You’re not about to ruin this by asking more of someone who doesn’t have it in him.
You reach back and pull the small box from your pocket. “Here’s your real gift,” you say, holding it out to him. Your voice softens, but there’s still a playful inflection. “Hope you like it.”
Curiosity fills those dark eyes as he takes the box, eyeing the tacky birthday wrapping paper with a soft smile. The sight of that grin on his face has your eyes morphing into hearts.
“You didn’t have to get me anything.”
“I know,” you reply with a shrug. “But I saw it at the thrift store and just knew it had to go to you.”
You angle yourself to press a light kiss to the tip of his chin, your lips brushing against the stubble before you nip at it gently with your teeth. “Open it.”
His nimble fingers pull apart the crinkled folds of the wrapping paper to reveal the small box inside. When he opens it, you see his immediate delight, and your heart does a traitorous little flip.
The golden chain bracelet glints under the string lights strung along the roof’s edge, somehow making it look nicer out here than how it had been displayed at the store.
“Damn, this is nice,” he says, genuinely appreciative. The praise sends a faint thrill up your spine, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you watch him lift the bracelet out of the box to inspect it.
You’ve imagined how good the gold would look while his wrist is flexing as he grips your thighs, holding you open for him. Or when he’s feeling you up, rough and greedy, fingers digging into your soft hips as he takes your pussy how he wants.
“Put it on,” he holds his wrist and the bracelet out toward you. His tone carries that easy confidence, like he already knows you’ll obey without question.
Which you do, obviously. You carefully clasp it around his wrist, your fingers brushing his skin as you secure it, and that little brush feels like you’ve just snorted a line of adrenaline with how amped up your body gets.
��Looks good on you,” you admire your handiwork, though the truth is; he’d make anything look good. Even a paper crown. Or, you know, a tacky tiara.
“Gracias, fresita,” he replies smoothly, that familiar nickname rolling off his tongue.
“Are you ever going to stop calling me that?”
“Nah.”
Before you can come up with a witty retort, he pulls you against him again, One hand at your lower back, the other tucked into the back pocket of your jeans. His lips capture yours in a kiss that’s eager and completely unapologetic.
“Easy there, birthday boy—”
“Can’t help it,” he cuts you off, his voice rough against your lips. “Been waiting for you to show up all night.”
You can’t help but chase after that tasty mouth of his, your tongue licking against his, teeth biting into his lower lip and the slight tickle of his mustache makes you shiver. Then his hips grind against your thigh, his erection prominent, which in turn has heat flaring all over your body. 
“Let’s go inside,” he breaks away, tugging you toward the small steps leading into the sunroom.
You weren’t expecting to fuck him so early on in the night but you’re not about to complain about it. Every fiber of your body yearns for this man—but specifically your cunt. She’s obsessed.
The room looks like it’s in the middle of a renovation—a man cave in progress.
One wall boasts an unfinished bar, complete with half-empty bottles and shot glasses scattered across the surface. A brand-new pool table sits in the center of the room, its felt pristine, untouched by drunken games or spilled drinks. 
At the far end, a set of leather couches and a recliner face the large television set and entertainment center.
The double doors to the house are shut tight, leaving the room dim and private, save for the warmness of the string lights spilling in through the windows.
You’re caught up taking it all in when Javier sneaks up behind you, pressing hot, greedy kisses against your neck as his hands roam your body.
There’s nothing tentative about his touch—he cups your tits with both hands, squeezing them over your sweater as a deep groan rumbles in his throat. His need for you is palpable, a force that makes your knees weak even as he maneuvers you toward the pool table.
“Here, Javi?” you pant when he sucks at your weak spot under your jaw. “Let’s just go up to your room—”
“No,” he growls, spinning you around to face him, his dark eyes alight with lust. “Want you right here on this table.”
Before you can argue, his lips are on yours again. You let yourself melt into it, your hands reaching up to pluck the ridiculous tiara off his head and tossing it aside with a flick of your wrist.
His hair is soft under your fingers as you card through it, tugging lightly just to feel the way his body reacts, the way his kisses deepen in response.
When his tongue slides into your mouth, you surprise even yourself by wrapping your lips around it, sucking gently. You’re greedy and he loves it.
Javier’s grunt prompts your thighs to clench instinctively around him. His jacket hits the floor as he shrugs it off, lips trailing down your neck. You kick off your boots, his hands lifting you with ease to place you on the sturdy pool table.
Your sweater is gone before you know it. He’s in the middle of working on the button of your jeans, his fingers deft and impatient, when your eyes land on something that makes you freeze.
Or better yet, someone. There’s a figure slumped in one of the recliners at the far end of the room.
Your breath hitches, your body tensing. “Javi, stop.” Your words falter into a moan as his lips find your collarbone, sucking on your skin.
“What’s wrong?” he murmurs, barely pausing as he tugs your pants down your hips. Despite yourself, you lift slightly to help him, even as you frantically nudge your head toward the recliner.
“There’s someone here,” you whisper.
He stops, his head snapping up to follow your gaze. His expression shifts into a frustrated scowl when he sees the figure sprawled in the chair. “Goddamnit,” he mutters, reluctantly pulling away from you and heading over to investigate.
You watch as he approaches, his boots heavy on the hardwood. It’s his cousin Danny, completely passed out, his head lolling to the side and his mouth hanging open. Javier whistles sharply, snapping his fingers in front of his face. Nothing. He gives his shoulder a firm nudge once, twice—still nothing.
“Out cold,” Javier says, his tone both annoyed and amused as he turns back to you. “Took down almost a whole bottle of tequila earlier. He’s not gonna bother us.”
You hesitate, your eyes darting to the unconscious form. The idea of hooking up with someone uninvited in the room feels... complicated… exhilarating, maybe? You’ve never done it before.
But your reluctance evaporates the moment Javier closes the distance between you again, his hands sliding your jeans clean off, leaving you in nothing but your mismatched bra and panties.
He drinks you in, and the rest of the party—including the slumped figure in the corner—melts away under the weight of his attention.
No words are needed, not when he roughly tugs the cups of your bra down, letting your breasts spill free, nor when he dips his head, his stubble grazing your skin as his warm mouth captures one of your nipples.
Your breath catches, back arching your breasts into his warm, wet mouth. His tongue lazily circles and flicks over the hardened bud. Then he sucks harder, pulling a drawn-out moan from you before switching to the other side.
You bite your lip, determined to stifle the sighs of pleasure threatening to break. His knocked out cousin in the corner keeps you cautious, even as your body aches to let go.
Javier notices. Always does. He pulls away with a pop, a thin string of saliva connecting his pouty lips to your nipple. “Nu-uh,” he chides. “Don’t hold back.”
“I’m not trying to wake him up,” you counter, though your voice wavers from how good his mouth felt.
“You won’t,” he replies, almost dismissively, giving you a peck on the lips before he drops to his knees before you. He starts at your calves, leaving slow, deliberate kisses that send sparks dancing along your skin.
The faint scrape of his facial hair adds to the wonderful torment as his mouth works its way up, switching from leg to leg.
When he reaches the inside of your right knee, he kisses it almost sweetly, before dragging his tongue slowly in a hot stripe up to your inner thigh. You can’t stop the small shiver that ripples through you, your hands gripping the edge of the pool table for balance.
Javier finally reaches your pussy and you shudder as he presses an open-mouthed kiss to your clothed clit. The heat of his breath and the firm pressure of his lips through the cotton of your panties makes your back arch.
He hooks a finger into the fabric and pulls it to the side, diving in immediately. His tongue parts your folds, curling and slithering against your pearly clit before moving lower.
“Fuck,” you sigh, your hips bucking involuntarily, pressing yourself harder against his mouth.
He groans, enjoying how reactive you are, his fingers digging into the soft meat of your thighs while he holds you firmly in place. His mouth works with a singular focus, his tongue swirling and dipping into your entrance, then sliding back up to flick over your clit.
The feeling of his stupid mustache makes it that much better, scratching at your cunt lusciously. 
You can’t help it now—a soft, keening moan slips out of you, echoing faintly in the dimly lit room. Your head lolls around on your shoulders as pleasure coils at the pit of your stomach, the tension winding tighter with each stroke of his tongue.
“That’s it,” he practically purrs. “Let me hear you.”
His lips seal around your clit, sucking gently, and you swear it feels like you’ve been possessed—holding back is impossible. Another moan escapes you, louder this time, your thighs shaking in his grip as he devours you.
Javi pushes you over the edge so effortlessly that a cry of his name spits out of your throat before you can stop it, cutting through the room.
You're grateful this area of the house is directed away from the backyard, where the party celebrating him outside continues on, oblivious of his absence as he indulges in you.
Your orgasm settles like a heavy current, fingers nearly going numb from holding on to the pool table for dear life.
You’re still disoriented and flustered when Javier stands, looming over you, cupping the back of your head and bringing you in to passionately make out.
His mouth is coated in your tangy essence, making you taste yourself as he slips his tongue down your throat.
You whimper, clawing at his chest for more and he pulls away to turn you around, manhandling you onto your stomach on the table.
His hands are firm yet impatient as he grips one of your legs by the back of your knee and hooks it over the edge of the wooden border.
Javi stares down at your sex, partially exposed and glistening for him. Your panties are askew, one swollen pussy lip peeking out while a dark, damp patch spreads over the cotton where his tongue had devoured you moments ago.
“Fuck.” The lewd sight has him hastily undoing his belt and popping the button on his jeans, his dick hard and ready to bury himself inside your sweet cunt. 
Propping yourself up on your palms, you glance back at him over your shoulder, a teasing, blissed out smile playing on your lips despite the burning heat between your thighs. “I figured you’d want to savor me. Wait for later…” you coo, rolling your hips and causing your ass to jiggle, feeling giddy at how his eyes zero in on the motion.
“I savor you all the time, baby. Even during these nasty, quick fucks.” Him saying that has you over the fucking moon. “You can’t expect me to wait knowin’ this pussy needs me to fuck her real good.”
The hand adorned with your golden bracelet grabs your supple ass, kneading the flesh before landing a stinging spank that makes you jolt and let out a cry. The sharp sound carries, making your eyes flick nervously toward the recliner where his cousin still lies, unaware of the debauchery happening mere feet away.
Javier seems completely unbothered, casually toying with your panties as though you have all the time in the world. He hooks his finger into the soaked fabric, dragging it back and forth against your sticky folds, smearing your slick across your pussy lips.
Your hips move on their own, chasing the friction, and you bite your lip hard, trapping the needy moan building in your throat.
“Can I come over later?”
His question is so nonchalant it nearly makes you laugh, but the way he teases you has you too far gone to do so. You grind back against his touch, desperate for more, your lips parting in a breathy moan.
“Yes.” The thought of him showing up at your doorstep at three in the morning, bourbon on his lips, just for you to sink to your knees and take him down your throat makes your pussy clench around nothing, crying out for his cock as more of your arousal leaks against your panties. “Whenever.”
He hums in satisfaction, stepping closer and reaching for your jaw, tilting your head to the side roughly and meeting you for a kiss. The fabric of his shirt grazes your bare skin and he tugs your panties to the side again while his mouth continues to hold yours captive.
His cock nudges against your waiting entrance, teasing, the flushed head dragging over the fleshy cleft of your clit in languid taps.
When he finally pushes in, there’s no preamble—just the yummy stretch of him filling you to the fucking brim, shoving a strangled whine out of your mouth as he sets a brutal pace immediately, not giving you even a moment to adjust.
Your palms slip against the velvet of the pool table as you struggle to hold yourself up, but it’s no use. The force of his thrusts sends you collapsing forward onto your chest, scattering the neatly racked pool balls across the table.
They clatter and roll in all directions, but Javier doesn’t slow for a second. His grip on your waist tightens, forcing you to fuck yourself back on his dick.
“Shit,” he growls hoarsely, already breathless as he watches your ass bounce with every stroke. “You’re makin’ a loud fuckin’ mess,” he hisses, though there’s no real malice there—just straight horniness.
In one smooth motion, he grabs both your wrists with one large hand, pinning them to your lower back. He then angles your pelvis so that your clit is grinding against the smooth wooden border of the pool table while your tender nipples rub against the green felt.
The effects of that are immediate, your body feeling like it’s burning from the inside out. “Mmm, fuck yeah, keep doing that,” you moan desperately. 
The raunchy sound of your ass clapping against his thighs fills the room, a filthy rhythm accompanied by the feeling of his heavy balls brushing against your cunt. 
The noise feels impossibly loud, your whimpers and his grunts reverberating off the walls. Surely, his cousin will wake up—surely, someone will walk in on the shameless display Javier is putting on with your body.
Or maybe not, since Javier keeps fucking you all hot and wanton, especially when he hits your sweet spot and your ribbed, gushy walls hug around his dick like a vice.
Your forehead presses against the table as you chant his name, your vision swimming.
You try to glance toward the recliner where his cousin is passed out, but your eyes can’t focus. Everything’s a blur—two of everything, indistinct shapes swimming in the haze of your arousal.
The only thing you can truly focus on is Javier: the way his cock breaches your most intimate spaces, the heat of his body against yours, the sharp bite of his belt against the backs of your thighs.
You’re soaking him, ruining the hem of his half-buttoned shirt. But you can’t bring yourself to care. Not when he’s splitting you open so perfectly, his tight grip on your wrists keeping you pinned and utterly open for him to take.
Your sore clit continues to rub against the smooth wood of the table, now sticky from how shamelessly you’ve been humping against it while chasing your pleasure.
Between the stimulation on your clit, the rough scrape of the felt against your sensitive nipples, and the relentless pounding of his shaft brushing your g-spot—it’s all too much. 
Your body trembles, a loud cry ripping from your throat as your orgasm slams into you.
"Javi!" you spasm in his hold, nails digging into your palms as your wrists remain trapped beneath his firm grip. shoulders burning from his rough hold.
Your pussy clamps hard around him, wet and creamy as you come, soaking his cock and leaving no doubt about how thoroughly he fucked you.
Javier curses through gritted teeth, switching between Spanish and English as he ruts into you, his rhythm stuttering. “Fuck, fresita, you’re squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight—just like that.”
He doesn’t falter, fucking you even as your orgasm settles over you like a heavy current.
He hauls you upright, pulling your back flush against his chest, his grip on your wrists unrelenting as he traps them between your bodies.
Both of his arms wrap tightly around your trembling frame, one hand sliding up to grab your tit, kneading it roughly while the other sprawls against your stomach and waist to hold you steady as he fucks up into you.
His mouth is at your ear now, his breath ragged. “Gonna bust inside this pretty pussy baby and you’re gonna let me, aren’t you?”
You nod weakly, biting down on your lip as your eyes flutter shut. “So fuckin’ willing to take my cum like a real slut,” the degrading name makes your clit twitch because he’s right—you are a real slut. Only for him. Always hungry and ready to please, to do anything to satisfy him and he knows it.
“You’re so goddamn perfect—fuck.” His hips jerk a few times before he groans deeply, his cock pulsing as he finishes deep inside you, his hold on your body tightening to the point where you wince but it hurts so good.
“What the fuck?”
The sharp voice cuts through the haze, yanking you back to reality. Your eyes snap open, and panic floods your system as you instinctively try to shield your almost-naked body.
Across the room, Danny sits up in the recliner, his hair a mess and his bleary eyes squinting in confusion. He looks like he’s been rudely yanked out of a drunken slumber, and unfortunately, it’s your fault.
Javier, of course, remains maddeningly calm. “Relax,” his voice still thick with that post-climax rasp as he mumbles in your ear.
Meanwhile, your body is burning—part embarrassment, part leftover heat from the sinful things Javier just did to you on this pool table.
You try to wriggle out of his grip, but his arms are like iron bands, keeping you firmly in place.
Danny rubs at his eyes, blinking hard as if trying to process what’s in front of him. His head tilts slightly, and for one horrifying second, you think he’s piecing it all together. But instead, he suddenly leans over the side of the recliner and starts retching, the sound loud and wet as he empties his stomach onto the carpet.
The sharp, acidic stench of vomit hits the air, mixing unpleasantly with the heady scent of sweat and sex. It’s enough to finally get Javier to loosen his hold.
He pulls out of you with a grunt, leaving you aching and exposed, and you both watch as his release starts to spill out of you, trickling over your swollen folds and dripping onto the table with obscene little plops.
But there’s no time to dwell on the mess. You scramble to grab your clothes, your movements frantic and clumsy as you yank your jeans up your legs and shove your arms into your sweater.
Javier’s doing the same, though far less hurried, like he’s still amused by the whole situation.
When you finally look up at him, his dark eyes are sparkling with mischief, and he throws you a roguish grin that almost makes you laugh despite yourself.
Danny, meanwhile, is still groaning and gagging, his face pale as a sheet. You feel a tiny pang of guilt, but before you can even think about offering help, Javier grabs your hand and tugs you toward the door.
“Aren’t you going to help him?” you whisper, trying to keep your voice low.
“Fuck no,” Javier replies without missing a beat. “Not my fault he couldn’t handle his liquor.”
He presses a kiss to the back of your hand, his lips warm and soft against your skin, and you can’t help but follow him.
You glance back over your shoulder as you’re being pulled toward the backyard, unable to stop yourself from throwing out a half-hearted, “Sorry!”
He doesn’t respond—he’s too busy dry heaving—but you and Javier are already sneaking out, stifling your laughter as the sounds of the party grow louder around you.
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The music thrums through the air, its infectious rhythm pulling you in as your dance partner tightens his grip on your waist. His hands are firm, guiding you with confidence, but the musky cologne mixed with the sour tang of sweat is enough to make your nose crinkle if you focus too hard on it.
Still, you’re here out of spite, letting the sway of your hips speak louder than words as your body molds to his. The banda song carries you both across the makeshift dance floor, your movements fluid and natural as though the music itself has taken over.
Javier is just a few paces away, entangled with the curly-haired girl from earlier. His hands rest on her lower back, his body moving with ease. 
There’s a playful challenge in both of your eyes when your gazes finally meet, knowing how this little game of yours will end. 
Neither of you looks away, both determined to outdo the other, even in this small, ridiculous way.
Your dance partner spins you abruptly, breaking the moment. The move is smooth, you’ll give him that, and you find yourself face-to-face with him once again.
He’s not bad looking, honestly—sharp jawline, nice green eyes—but the cologne is killing the vibe, and his wandering hands are starting to push it.
Thankfully, the song winds to a close just as his fingers inch a little too far down your back. The music shifts, a different tune kicking in, and you step back, offering a polite smile as he thanks you for the dance.
“Got a number I can save?” he asks, hopeful and slightly cocky.
You grin, a little too sweetly, and rattle off your number without hesitation. You’ve got no intention of responding if he uses it, but you can’t resist the temptation to stir the pot. As he finally walks away, you feel it—a scorching stare burning into your back.
You don’t even have to look to know who it’s coming from.
“Baila conmigo.”
The familiar rasp of Javier’s voice cuts through the noise as he steps into your space. He takes a swig of his beer, his leather jacket gone, leaving him in just the white button-up that hugs his chest a little too well.
You cock a brow, crossing your arms. “What happened to your dance partner?”
“Sent her away,” he replies easily, his smirk infuriatingly smug. “Poor girl couldn’t catch the rhythm.”
You let out an amused huff, rolling your eyes. Of course, he’d say that. Before you can think better of it, you take his hand, allowing him to lead you toward la pista.
The moment you’re there, he pulls you flush against him, one large hand settling at your lower back while the other still clutches his beer. You fall into the simple two-step with ease, your bodies moving in perfect sync to the music. 
His thigh slots between yours, the friction sparking something electric, and you can’t help but press closer, your breaths mingling in the intimate space between you.
“Reminds me of that night at the club,” his lips brush at your ear. It’s a miracle you can still hear him over the loud music. “When you finally let me get between those pretty legs.”
The heat in his words, combined with the faint scent of his cologne and the alcohol on his breath, floods your senses. He smells and feels like everything your last dance partner wasn’t.
Whistles and cheers ripple through the crowd as you and Javi throw yourselves into the rhythm of the song, your bodies moving like two parts of the same melody.
You hadn’t expected him to be such a good dancer the first time you shared a dance—not until that night at the club. 
And just like his dancing, the way he fucked you afterward had blown every expectation out of the water.
The song comes to an end, leaving you both flushed and slightly winded, sweat clinging to your skin despite the cool night air. The cheers die down as a new track begins, and Javi’s lips quirk into a lopsided grin.
“C’mon, give me another one,” he urges, his voice still rich and sensual despite the exertion.
You laugh, shaking your head as you step back, hands on your hips. You hadn’t planned to stay this long, and now your body is screaming for mercy. “Raincheck, handsome. I gotta head home.”
Javi’s grin falters slightly, but it doesn’t fade completely as your hand drifts down his chest, fingers savoring the firmness of his body.
His broad shoulders and toned frame are just so enchanting, and you can’t resist indulging one last time before grabbing his beer. You take a long, slow sip, your eyes flicking up to meet his as you drain the bottle and set it aside on one of the plastic fold-out tables.
“Not gonna stick around for the cake?” he asks, that boyish charm in his tone as he steps closer.
You flash him a flirty smile. “Save me a piece.”
He opens his mouth to say something else, but the rowdy chaos of his friends and cousins cuts him off. They swarm him, loud and eager, tugging at his shoulders and shouting for him to take another shot.
He laughs, but his gaze finds yours, his warm brown eyes locking on to you one last time.
“Enjoy, Javi,” you tell him with a wink. “You know where to find me.”
That familiar smirk is at his lips as he’s pulled toward the makeshift bar. You watch him for a moment before turning to make your departure.
You’re cutting across the lawn when you hear a voice behind you.
“Need a ride home?”
It’s the guy you danced with earlier, his cologne still potent even in the open air. His gentlemanliness would’ve been charming if it weren’t for the obvious expectation in his tone.
You decline politely, offering a quick smile before brushing past him and unlocking your car.
What you don’t realize is that Javi sees the entire exchange from afar. He’d caught the tail end of the guy trailing after you, his gaze narrowing as he watched you disappear into the sea of parked cars.
A flicker of irritation tugged at his expression, but he stayed rooted to his spot, letting his friends push another shot into his hand.
Instead of following, he threw himself into his own celebration, his laugh loud and boisterous as if he hadn’t seen a damn thing. But he couldn’t stop thinking about you leaving with that guy, and the glint in his eyes that had been so bright when you were there dulled just slightly. 
Still, he let it go, for now.
He knew exactly where to find you, after all.
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“Oh my god,” you mewl, your back arching against the cold tile of your kitchen floor. Javier thrusts into you with a raw, animalistic need, his cock driving so deep inside you that it feels like he’s carving himself into your very being.
The absurdity of the situation is a bit funny—you’re still fully clothed, minus your sleeping shorts having been thrown haphazardly across the room, a stark contrast to earlier when you’d been bare and spread for him on that damn pool table.
Just as you predicted, he showed up at your door in the dead of night, his silhouette illuminated by the dim porch light. You’d barely made it to the door before his desperate, insistent knocking threatened to wake the entire block.  
It felt like he might break it down if you didn’t open it fast enough. Whoever dropped him off didn’t even wait to see if you’d answer.
No words were exchanged when you finally let him in. His brown eyes, dark and searing, did all the talking.
He’d cupped your face with one rough hand, the other holding a plate with aluminum foil covering it, precariously balancing it in his palm as he kissed you with an appetite that left you breathless.
You let him back you into the kitchen, setting the plate on the counter, his body crowding yours until there was nowhere left to go.
And now, here you are, legs spread wide, the weight of him pressing you down into the tiles, his jacket still on, smelling like beer and bourbon as he ruts himself against you.
“Givin’ your number out, huh?” he growls against your lips, his words dripping with bitterness. His hand snakes up to wrap around your neck, firm but not harsh, forcing your hazy eyes to meet his. You feel the subtle coolness of the bracelet against your skin and that only makes it better. “That’s all it takes, fresita? One fuckin’ dance?”
Each word is punctuated by a sharp, punishing thrust that has you gasping for air.
Your hands scramble at the back of his jacket, trying to find some sort of anchor while his dick fucks into you over and over, your slick cunt clamping helplessly around him.
If your brain wasn’t fogged with pleasure, you’d call him out on his jealousy, tease him for letting something so trivial get under his skin. At least you were better about hiding it.
But god, it’s too fucking hot—seeing him like this, so undone, so unhinged, all because of you.
Javier, the man who always carries himself with that cool, confident swagger, who never seems to let anything faze him, is now losing his composure right here on your kitchen floor.
And all it took was watching some other guy’s attention on you to make him snap. If anyone is picky and spoiled here—it’s him.
“Answer me,” he demands, his grip on your throat tightening just enough to leave you lightheaded, his thrusts never faltering. His free hand grabs at your thigh, spreading you even wider for him, the angle forcing you to experience every inch of him.
“I—it was nothing,” you manage to cry, though your words are almost incoherent as he’s driving into you. “Javi, I—”
“You what?” he interrupts with a curt laugh, his teeth grazing the underside of your jaw before he bites down gently, making you squirm beneath him. “You think I’m gonna let you walk around, lettin’ some asshole think he’s got a chance with you?”
The thought alone seems to fuel him further, his movements growing rougher and you swear you’re on the edge of unraveling.
And as he watches the way your body responds to him—your nails digging into his back, your moans turning into screams—he knows he’s making his point loud and clear. 
Javi’s grip around your throat tightens, cutting off your breath just enough to stimulate you. The pressure makes you feel somehow, impossibly, even more turned on.
“He can’t fuck you like I can,” he grinds against you, his coarse and damp pubic hairs bristling against your sensitive clit, the friction of it almost too much. “No one can.” His face hovers so close to yours that you can feel his breath on your lips.
Your mouth falls open on instinct, tiny, wheezy moans spilling out as his nose brushes against yours.
Javier’s dark eyes feel like they’re boring straight into your soul, gleaming with hunger as he watches your every twitch, every little surrender. He leans in and kisses you all demanding and vehement. 
His lips claim yours like he’s trying to eat you whole, his tongue slipping inside to taste every gasp you give him.
“Listen to that,” he murmurs mockingly as he pulls back just enough to let his gaze drop between your bodies, watching your pussy swallow his cock. “Just listen to how wet you are, baby. Think he could ever make you sound like this?”
Your cheeks burn with embarrassment—and arousal—as the obscene, sloppy sounds of his length plunging into you fill the air, amplified by his words. The drive of his hips is merciless, each stroke drawing you closer with dizzying precision.
Your nails dig into his forearms, bending your body beneath him as your vision starts to be blotched with white spots.
You can feel it, the winding of your orgasm at your core pulling taut, about to burst. When it finally does, your pussy flutters and squeezes as waves of smoldering intensity crash over you.
“Puta madre,” he snarls, his head falling back from how good it feels to have you come around him.
Pulling out, Javier pins you down with his weight to keep you from squirming away. His cock, flushed, drooling, and shiny with your juices, hovers inches from your face as you lay flat on the floor.
Your swollen lips part instinctively, the scent of your own headiness making your mouth water.
“Tongue out, baby,” he commands, his voice rough but coaxing.
You obey, sticking your tongue out lazily, your half-lidded eyes locked onto his. The sight of you like this—wrecked, pliant, and waiting for him—is enough to undo him completely. His hand pumps his cock, the golden accessory on his wrist jolting with each move. 
With a low, rasping groan, he spills over you, thick, hot ropes of cum splattering across your face and tongue.
You moan softly, savoring the warmth, licking your lips and swallowing whatever lands in your mouth. The taste of him leaves your tongue and throat buzzing, and you revel in the messy intimacy of it.
He uses his fingers to wipe the remnants of his release from your cheeks, then pushes them into your mouth without hesitation.
“Suck,” he orders, and you comply, wrapping your lips around his fingers, swirling your tongue over them with eager enthusiasm. You get carried away, your tongue flicking and sucking greedily, and he chuckles darkly.
“Jealousy looks good on you,” you can’t help but tease, your voice carrying amusement as you both come down from the dazed fucking.
Javier sways a little, his inebriation finally catching up to him. He stumbles, but he steadies himself smoothly, like the world itself wouldn’t dare let him fall.
He wipes a hand down his face before meeting your gaze, still kneeling on the floor. “Not a fan of people playin’ with what’s mine,” he says, the statement edged with that possessiveness he tries to pretend isn’t there.
Usually, a line like that would have you rolling your eyes and telling the guy to take his ego down a notch. But with Javier? You don’t mind. At all. Something about the way he says it—like it’s a fact, not an opinion—makes your stomach flip in the worst (or best) way possible.
“Yours?” you challenge, sitting up on your forearms and arching a brow at him. “I thought this was casual.”
“It is,” he says without missing a beat, bringing his fingers up to caress the side of your face, more calm and sure, like he’s completely unaware of how contradictory his behavior is.
You narrow your eyes slightly, refusing to let him off the hook that easily despite melting under his touch. “Casual hookups don’t go into a frenzy after watching the other dance and flirt with someone else.”
He doesn’t even flinch at your words, doesn’t even bother to defend himself. Instead, he smirks—because of course he does—and stretches his arms over his head like the entire conversation is nothing but a minor inconvenience to him.
He straightens up then stands, extending a hand to you, his palm open and inviting, the gold band of the bracelet glinting in the low light.
You let him pull you up and let out a sound of exertion, your muscles still tense from rolling around on the hard floor with him.
“Dance, flirt with whoever you want. When I want you, I’m gonna have you.”
That’s possibly the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. “That so?” You try to sound unimpressed, but your voice betrays you, just the tiniest bit giddy.
“That’s so,” he concedes vaingloriously. “Don’t forget who makes you feel this satisfied.”
As if I could ever. “Cocky bastard,” you mutter, but the words lack any real bite.
He leans in, kissing you gently, then his voice drops into that deep, velvety murmur that makes your pussy tingle. “Yet you keep coming back.”
You don’t respond because, let’s face it, he’s not wrong. Especially not when he pairs those words with an affectionate kiss.
Instead, you finally roll your eyes, the most predictable move in your arsenal, and step around him to grab your discarded sleeping shorts.
Sliding them back on, you make your way to the counter, where the lonely styrofoam plate of half-smashed birthday cake waits for attention. Without a word, you pull it closer, grab a fork, and dig in.
Javier watches you with a grin still plastered across his face, leaning his hip against the counter. “Didn’t even offer the birthday boy the first bite, huh? Real cold.”
You stab a piece exaggeratedly, lifting it to your mouth, and chewing slowly, giving him a look that says cry about it.
But when you see the faint pout pulling at his lips—a deliberate act, no doubt—you sigh, scoop up another forkful, and hold it out. “Fine. Even though technically it’s not your birthday anymore.”
He leans in, not breaking the eye contact, and takes the bite straight from the fork, his lips brushing the tines with an unnecessary amount of flair.
You swear he’s showing off, but you don’t call him out on it, not when he groans softly in appreciation and you can’t help but admire him like this, playful and flirty in your kitchen.
“Feliz cumpleaños, Javi,” you say after a moment, softer now.
He swallows, his smirk shifting into something a little more genuine as he meets your gaze. “Gracias, fresita.”
For a moment, the air between you shifts—gentler, almost intimate. Then he reaches for the fork still in your hand and steals another bite, flashing you a look that drags you right back to reality.
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ryescapades · 1 month ago
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→ EVENT OVERVIEW
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prompt: 10 - “lift your hips for me, love.” characters: michael kaiser (bllk) x f!reader contents: nsfw mdni !! oral (f!receiving), orgasm denial, unprotected p in v, marking, some choking, slightest hint of possessiveness + degradation if u squint, petnames (princess, baby, love, pretty girl), reader wears a dress, implied established rs wc ~ 800
a/n: @strawchocoberry candyyy bbg tysm for participating !! this one is barely proofread btw but i hope u will still enjoy it <3 and here's your slice two order !
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there was a tense silence blanketing the room.
you were taking your sweet time removing all the jewelry you had been wearing on your body, nerves fluttering on your fingertips as you placed them down gently on the vanity when a pair of hands came to rest on your hips. your own hands paused midway, a sigh wisping out when a warm body pressed itself against your back. “still wanna continue where we left off, princess?” kaiser asked, cerulean eyes connecting with yours in the mirror.
flashes of heated breaths and impatient touches appeared in your mind, each and every action ladened with a hungry intent leading to the urgency in how the two of you had left the sponsorship event.
you hadn’t meant for it to happen, but with all those lingering touches, sultry gazes and teasing smirks thrown across the hall, it was only a matter of time before one of you snapped. and much to kaiser’s delight, you did.
if only he didn’t look as good as he did in that godforsaken red and blue suit.
his eyes greedily roamed over your body in the reflection, hands now snaking their way around your waist as the crown tattoo laid front and clear over your stomach like a blaring possession on the red of your dress.
“i wouldn’t have rushed back with you if i didn’t want to continue, michael.” you replied, leaning your head back against his shoulder when he started peppering your neck with open-mouthed kisses. seemingly satisfied with your answer, kaiser huffed out a raspy laugh against your skin before his silken voice graced your ears again, “keep the necklace on.”
you never planned on ever taking it off anyway.
and that was how you find yourself laid bare on your shared bed except for your panties which had been pushed to the side, legs thrown over his shoulders as kaiser continues to lap at your soaked pussy while he has two fingers knuckle deep in your hole. “micha–” your plea is cut short by another mewl out of your mouth when he takes your swollen clit between his lips, sucking on the bundle of nerves as he relishes in the way more of your arousal seeps out between his fingers.
“‘m so close, fuck.” kaiser doesn’t let up his ministrations, opting to flick his tongue faster against your folds. the heat in your stomach threatens to burst, coiling tighter and burning brighter as he increases the pace of his fingers. “yeah? gonna come, pretty girl?” he mumbles against your pussy, the vibration rewarding him with a broken whine from you.
it’s only when kaiser senses you on the precipice of your orgasm, pussy fluttering and thighs trembling beside his head that he abruptly pulls away, the climax you’d been so close to riding on sags down like a wilted flower. “n-no - why–” your protesting cries go into one ear and out the other. “i know, baby, i know.” he reassuringly hushes, and yet a tantalizing smirk grows on his face as he drinks in your distraught expression, the tears of frustration making your eyes glisten in the dimly lit room.
as much as he enjoys seeing your blissed face, michael kaiser loves the fucked out, depraved expression you’d make every time your pleasure gets denied even more.
he brings his tattooed hand to your neck, lightly squeezing the sides of your jaw as he leans in to connect your lips with his, rough and unbridled in the way he straight away invades your mouth to swap spit with you. clutching at his shirt, you groan against him as you taste your own ache and desperation on his tongue.
slipping down to the remaining piece of fabric on your body, he tugs on the hem of your panties to discard them away. “lift your hips for me, love,” he whispers, planting a soft peck on your obediently raised waist before unbuckling his own pants and pulling himself out.
your eyes automatically shift to the way kaiser gathers the precum leaking out of his own tip, smearing it on his throbbing cock to get it wet. all the while the crown tattoo slides up to your nape, pulling the necklace taut against the base of your throat. he then brings that same hand to your neck, fingers gingerly wrapping around it as his palm presses the dainty rose pendant against your skin.
kaiser’s motive is loud and clear; he wanted the necklace to leave an indent on your neck.
cock twitching and nudging against your drooling cunt, he finally pushes in, torturously slow as your velvety walls wrap around his girth with ease. “that’s it, baby...” his moan and yours find an echo in the heated room, “you were close, no? now be a good girl and come on my cock.”
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kaiser in a suit inspo ^w^  lots of hand action going awn there lmao sry candy ily but i feel like i’m edging u with this one hwgdjhsdf
©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !
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wintfleur · 11 months ago
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🌷 [ surprise ] with quinn!! maybe angst with happy ending ?
౨ৎ arguments on the dock and nosey brothers
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°. — pairings ( Quinn Hughes x female! Reader )
°. — summary ( Jack can’t keep his mouth shut, causing an argument between his brother and his girlfriend )
°. — details ( g; angst, fluff. w; slight cursing, I think that’s all. wc; 1.5k )
﹕─┈ prompt ~ a sudden kiss to catch there partner off guard
˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( TYSM FOR SENDING IN A REQ LOVEY !!! when I tell you that it PHYSICALLY hurt to write angst with Quinn . . . I’m telling you the truth. I absolutely loved writing this, and I really hope you guys enjoy it. I’m actually shocked that I wrote this in 3 hours. Please don’t be a silent reader, your thoughts always keep me motivated to keep writing <333 )
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You didn't wait to hear Quinn's answer as you walked out of the kitchen and out through the back door that led to the backyard and lake. You slipped your bare feet into what you assumed was Luke's slide Ons and quickly made your way down the steps and onto the dock. You let out a heavy side and brought your trembling hands up to your eyes, rubbing them as your mind tried to process the new news. 
“Thanks’ a lot Jack” Quinn hissed at his younger brother who couldn't seem to keep his mouth shut, shaking his head in annoyance and leaving the kitchen to quickly follow after you. Both of the brothers flinch when they hear Quinn slam the back door. Jack’s shoulders sank and he turned to look at Luke who was already giving him a disappointing shake of the head. “How was I supposed to know he didn't tell her yet?” 
“I don't know. Maybe the fact that Quinn told us to keep it to ourselves because he was still trying to figure things out?” Luke retorted sassily as he put his bowl in the sink before leaving the kitchen to go play some darts downstairs. Jack groans and rests his head on the cold island counter, he feels terrible. His heart had sunk when he saw the look of hurt on your face when he said those words. Jack whispers to himself “Good luck Quinn” 
Quinn slowly made his way down the wooden steps that led to the dock, he could see you standing in the middle of the dock, your body stiff as you stared out at the water. Quinn knew you knew he was there, the sound of the wood creaking under his weight as he walked onto the dock . . . but you refused to take your eyes off the water. 
“I know you're upset, and you have every right to be . . . but please just hear me out, '' Quinn spoke softly as he moved to rest his hand on your arm only to let out a sigh as you moved out of the way from his touch. You keep your eyes on the water, hoping that it would help calm you down as you whisper, “When did you find out?” 
“Two weeks ago,” Quinn whispered regrettably, his eyes down at the water. You scoff bitterly and bring your hand up to wipe at your eyes, hoping that your tears of frustration wouldn't fall. You finally turn to face him, your arms folded over your chest. Quinn looks at you and he feels his heart sink at the look of hurt on your face and the tears in your eyes, but that was nowhere as painful as hearing the hurt in your voice as you spoke loudly. 
“You're right, I do have every right to be upset. You found out two weeks ago, two weeks you have known that you wouldn't be with me for our anniversary . . . two weeks you have listened to me gush about planning our trip . . . our trip that you knew was never going to happen.” 
“Why didn't you tell me Quinn? . . . i would have understood'' you whispered, and you would have. You know you would have but finding out he kept it a secret for so long hurt. You never wanted to get in the way of his career, his dream, knowing how important it was to him . . . but you were important too. A single tear slides down your cheek as Jack's words echo in your head. 
“It's a great opportunity, it's just a shame he's going to miss your guy's big day” Jack says after he swallowed his last bite of the wonderful dinner you had made for your boyfriend and his brothers. You paused your movement on rinsing your dish and turned around to jack with a look of confusion “Big day?” 
“Yeah, your guys' anniversary? He's gonna be gone for like two weeks” Jack shrugged, and your heart dropped at the new information. You turned your gaze to your boyfriend who was giving Jack a heated glare while Luke looked between the couple awkwardly. You looked into your boyfriend's eyes as you asked, “Is that true?” 
“Baby i promise it's not like that i was ⸺” Quinn started as he tried to explain it to you, but you couldn't help but cut him off. 
“What is it like huh? When were you going to tell me? ⸺ if you were ever going to tell me at all. Where you going to tell me the day before or where you going to let me wake up alone to find out myself that you were on the other side of the fucking country!” You shouted as you threw your hands in the air in anger. Both Luke and Jack wincing inside of the house as they look out the window to spy on the two of you.
“Don't be dramatic you know i would never do that to you” Quinn shook his head as he took a step towards you, his heart hurting that you would even think he would do that to you. But he knew you were just upset, that you really didn't mean your words and all he wanted to do was pull you into his arms. 
“Well i used to also think we didn't keep secrets from each other, clearly i was wrong” you snapped as you fully turned to face away from him and moved to sit on one of the wooden chairs. You close your eyes and let out a heavy breath, resting your elbows on your knees and your face in your hands. You hated arguments with quinn, they rarely happened ⸺ but when they did it was emotionally draining. 
Quinn frowns and moves to get on one knee in front of you, his hands softly rubbing your arms, knowing that it helps calm you down. “I would have told you quinn . . . i wouldn't have kept it a secret” you whispered sadly as you lifted your head out of your hands, locking eyes with quinn who looked at you with regret in his eyes. “I know baby i know you would and I'm so sorry.” 
“I’m not going to tell you not to go, I know this is important for you and I won't hold you back . . . I'm just sorry you felt like you couldn't tell m⸺” you abruptly stop talking when you feel quinn holding your face and his lips on yours, interrupting you and catching you off guard. Your eyes fluttered close and you felt yourself melt into the kiss, pouring all of your emotion into the kiss. 
Quinn reluctantly pulled away and rested his forehead on yours, his gently hold on your face not wavering as he whispered breathlessly “You are more important to me, you will always be more important to me . . . i didn't say anything because i wanted to make sure you could come with me.” 
Your eyes fluttered open at his revelation and you lean back a little, Quinns hands falling to rest in your lap and taking your hands into his as he looks at you with nothing but love “I know it's not the anniversary you wanted . . . but we would be together, and Elias has been helping me plan it. I was going to tell you i swear, i was just waiting on the confirmation that we can stay in the honeymoon suite at the hotel we would be in.” 
“Really?” You whispered as tears reformed in your eyes, this time not of frustration ⸺ but of a strong emotion of love and guilt. Quinn was quick to wipe your fallen tears, giving you a small smile as he whispered “Don't cry baby, I'm not upset it's okay.” 
“The things i said i⸺”
“You didn't mean them, you were upset and hurt” Quinn cut you off as he caressed your cheeks before leaning forward to place a soft kiss on your nose, a smile forming on his lips at the adorable nose scrunch you do. 
“I’m sorry” you sniffled as you leaned forward, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend's shoulders in a hug, nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck. Quinn chuckles and wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer. His knees were starting to hurt, but you were more important than the fleeting pain. Quinn kissed your forehead before saying “I’m sorry too.” 
The couple both close their eyes, enjoying the feeling of being in each other's arms after the emotional rollercoaster they just were on. The only thing they could hear was each other's heartbeat and the sound of the water that was around them. It was perfect and peaceful until you heard Jack yelling from the porch “Since you guys are okay, does that mean you forgive me too?!” 
“I’m gonna fucking kill him” Quinn groans as he hides his face in your neck, breathing in your scent to calm himself down. He was in fact annoyed with his brother, this wouldn't have happened, and he would have been able to tell you about the news in a much better way . . . technically jack’s the reason why you cried, and Quinn was sure to use that against him. You giggle and open your eyes, looking out at the water and the beautiful sunset “I’m sure it would be easy to convince Luke to help us.” 
˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( one forehead kiss from Quinn and everything wrong in my life would be healed . . . please Quinn one chance I beg 😻 )
°. — taglist ( @cixrosie @toasttt11 )
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simplygojo · 3 months ago
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Another Speeding Ticket
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Author's Note: Hey y'all, tysm for all the love n care you've been sending me. I am basically back to normal now, so lets assume our resume Kinktober schedule..haha.
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This kinktober oneshot includes a Kinktober Prompt request, I hope you enjoy ;) I am getting very smutted out, so I unfortubatly will not be able to complete all of your requests! I will try my best, even if I finish them in November, but thank you guys so much for the support!
Pairing: Cop!Nanami x f!reader
Request: This request was by @aurorascorpio, although I slightly altered it. I hope you enjoy :) The request is linked here for any interested <3
I also included a few other anon requests in this fic, so I hope YOU ALL ENJOY!!! (shoutout to 🐜 !!)
Kinks: Spanking, Overstimulation, Edging, Size, Brat Taming, Breeding & Gun Play
Word Count: 2.2K
Kinktober Taglist: @nanamisrighthand @simplyyyuji; @megumisdivinedogs; @lovleyredheadfairy
Warnings: 18+ SMUT, MDNI, gun play, fingering, spanking, size kink, overstimulation, breeding, brat taming, aggressive sex.
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The sound of your engine roaring down the empty highway was almost therapeutic, the thrill of speeding through the night air intoxicating. 
But as soon as the familiar red and blue lights flashed behind you, your heart sank. Not again.
You groaned, already knowing who it was. Every time. It was always him.
You pulled over, slamming your palms on the steering wheel in frustration, and your forehead followed, leaning against it in defeat. 
You didn’t even need to look in the mirror to recognize the tall figure walking toward your car. 
His slow, measured footsteps sent your pulse racing, not in fear, but in a way that made your body heat.
Nanami Kento—your boyfriend—who was also a cop, and didn’t mind giving you speeding tickets despite your relationship.
Blonde hair slicked back, face perfectly composed and stern, his broad shoulders filling out his uniform almost too well. 
You swallowed as he approached, your heart hammering in your chest. This was probably the fifth time he’d pulled you over in the last month alone, and each time, his scolding made you feel like a naughty child being disciplined.
But this time felt different. There was a tension in the air you couldn’t quite place, an edge to his movements, like his patience had finally run dry.
He tapped on your window, and you rolled it down, biting your lip as his sharp eyes locked onto yours.
“Step out of the vehicle, Miss y/l/n,” Nanami’s voice was clipped, no room for argument.
You blinked, your stomach doing nervous flips. "W-wait, is this really necessary? I wasn’t going that fast—"
“You were going twenty-five over the limit. Again,” he said, his tone hard as steel. His gaze pierced through you, making you shrink back. “Step. Out.”
You hesitated but did as he commanded, heart pounding in your chest. 
The night air was cool against your legs as you stood beside your car, your skirt fluttering slightly as you faced him.
Nanami stood tall in front of you, his jaw clenched, looking every bit the no-nonsense cop he always was. 
There was a certain dominance in the way he towered over you, the stiff set of his jaw making your breath hitch. You could practically feel the weight of his authority pressing down on you, making your knees weak.
“I’ve warned you so many times, y/n,” he sighed, his voice lowering as his frustration bled through. “And yet here you are, speeding again. Reckless.”
“I-I’m sorry, really! I swear this is the last time—"
“No. You don’t get to talk your way out of this one,” Nanami cut you off, his tone sharp. 
“You don’t seem to learn your lesson. Maybe I need to teach you a different way.” His eyes darkened, and before you could process what was happening, he grabbed your wrist, spinning you around and pressing your front against the side of your car.
You gasped, heart racing. “Wait—what are you doing?”
“Bend over,” he ordered, voice deep with authority.
Your breath caught in your throat as his hand pressed against your back, forcing you into position. 
You could feel his presence looming behind you, his large frame towering over your bent form. 
The cold metal of his gun on his waist grazed your lower back as his hips pressed into you, and the weight of it sent a shiver through you.
“You’ve been a brat every time I’ve caught you,” he muttered darkly, his hands sliding down your waist, roughly pulling your skirt up to expose your panties. 
“Maybe it’s time I put you in your place.”
The thrill of it all made your thighs clench together, heat pooling between your legs. You squirmed, trying to protest, but he was having none of it.
“Be a good girl, my dear,” he commanded, his voice laced with danger. “Or do I need to use more force?”
You shook your head, biting your lip, already feeling the wetness soaking through your panties. 
“No, sir…”
His large hands roamed over your ass, kneading the flesh before giving it a sharp slap. You yelped, the sting sending a rush of pleasure straight to your core.
“You like that, don’t you?” He growled, landing another smack, harder this time. 
The sound echoed in the quiet night as you gasped, body arching against the car. 
“You act like a brat, and you’ll get treated like one.”
Another slap, then another. 
The rhythm of his spanking had your ass burning, your legs weak. You were dripping, your panties clinging to your slick folds as he continued his punishment.
Without warning, he yanked your panties down, leaving you completely exposed to the night air. 
Your heart raced, both embarrassment and excitement swirling together in a heady mix.
Nanami’s fingers slid between your legs, teasing your entrance before slipping one thick finger inside. 
You moaned, your body instantly responding, grinding back against his hand. The stretch of just one of his fingers was enough to send a surge of heat through your core, your walls clenching around the intrusion, desperate for more.
“So eager,” he muttered, pleased with the way your body reacted to him. 
“My job is to enforce the law, and teach people lessons when they break those laws…” 
He unholstered his gun, the metallic sound making your pulse quicken. 
The cold barrel pressed against your hip as his fingers moved inside you with deliberate slowness, curling against your walls. 
The juxtaposition of pleasure and danger sent a shiver down your spine.
The pressure of the gun against your skin made you gasp, your body arching against the car. 
He wasn’t rough, but the weight of it was enough to remind you who was in control. His thumb brushed against your clit, applying just enough pressure to have you trembling beneath him.
“You don’t learn, do you?” Nanami murmured, his voice deep and steady, even as his fingers slipped deeper, hitting a spot that made your legs weak. 
“I’ve warned you time and time again, and yet here you are, acting like a reckless brat.”
You whimpered, pushing back against him, desperate for more. But Nanami wasn’t having it. 
He withdrew his fingers almost entirely, barely grazing your entrance as you squirmed in frustration.
“Stay still,” he commanded, the gun now resting against your waist as a cold reminder. “You don’t get to decide when you get what you want.”
Your hips moved on their own, seeking the friction he was withholding, the need in your belly tightening like a vice. 
The absence of his touch left a hollow ache, but his control over you kept you teetering on the edge of submission.
Every time you felt yourself climbing toward release, he would slow down, making you gasp in frustration. 
The ache between your legs grew, your need for him becoming desperate, but you couldn’t bring yourself to beg. Not yet.
His fingers slipped back inside, slow and deliberate, rubbing against that sensitive spot that made your legs shake. 
“Look at you,” he muttered darkly. “All that attitude, and now you’re desperate for me.”
You bit your lip, resisting the urge to moan too loudly, your pride still intact despite the torment. 
But Nanami could read you too well, knew how close you were.
“You want to cum, don’t you?” he taunted, his thumb brushing over your clit in maddening circles. “I can feel how badly you need it. How you’re shaking for it.”
“Yes…Yes sir” you whispered, the words slipping from your lips before you could stop it. 
Your pride wavered as the pleasure coursed through you, leaving you trembling against the car.
Nanami hummed in approval, but instead of giving you what you craved, he pressed the gun harder against your skin, reminding you who held all the power. 
His pace slowed again, the edging cruel as your body throbbed with need.
“Have some patience, my dear” he growled, his voice dangerously low. 
His fingers worked you with precision, drawing you to the edge once more, only to pull back, leaving you teetering on the brink.
Nanami’s grip on your waist tightened, the authority in his touch clear as he held you firmly against the cool metal of the car. 
His voice was low, commanding, as he muttered darkly into your ear, “If you don’t learn, maybe I’ll have to give you something to remember. Maybe putting a baby in you will finally get you to listen.”
Your breath hitched at his words, heat pooling between your legs as the weight of his intention sank in.
His fingers left you aching, desperate for more, and before you could respond, Nanami moved swiftly. 
His belt clinked as he unbuckled it, and you felt the heavy press of his cock against your slick entrance.
The size of him alone had you gasping, your body trembling with anticipation.
Without warning, he pushed into you, his cock stretching you wide as he filled you completely in one rough thrust. 
The sensation of him deep inside you made your legs buckle, and you braced yourself against the car, the overwhelming fullness leaving you breathless. 
He was so thick, so impossibly big, that it felt like your body was struggling to take all of him.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” Nanami grunted, his voice strained with restraint. His hands roamed your hips, holding you steady as he pulled out only to slam back into you, his pace rough and unrelenting from the start. 
Each thrust pushed you forward against the cool surface of the car, your ass burning from the rough spanking and your body tingling with overstimulation.
“Such a fucking brat,” he growled, landing another sharp slap on your ass that sent a jolt of pleasure straight through you. 
“Maybe this will finally teach you to behave.”
The sharp sting of his hand contrasted with the deep, pounding thrusts of his cock, and you could barely keep yourself together, the combination of pain and pleasure sending you spiralling toward the edge. But Nanami was far from done.
He leaned over you, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, 
“You’re going to take every inch of me, and you’re not going to cum until I say so.” His thumb found your clit again, rubbing tight circles that had you clenching around him, desperate for release.
The pleasure was too much, your body trembling as you felt your orgasm build, but Nanami wasn’t giving you the satisfaction. 
He pulled back slightly, dragging his cock out of you slowly, only to slam back into you with such force that you cried out, your hands scrambling for purchase against the car.
“You think you can just do whatever you want?” Nanami taunted, his hips snapping against yours with punishing force. “Breaking the rules like a spoiled brat? Not anymore.”
His pace quickened, the force of his thrusts driving you closer and closer to the brink, but every time you felt yourself teetering on the edge, he slowed down just enough to keep you from falling over. 
The overstimulation had your body shaking, desperate for release, but Nanami wouldn’t let you have it.
His words sent a shiver through you, the promise of him filling you making your body respond in ways you couldn’t control. 
You wanted it, wanted him to finish inside you, to claim you in every way. The idea of him filling you with his sweet release, of the possibility of it taking, had your thighs clenching with need.
“Please,” you whimpered, your pride shattered as you begged him. “Please, let me cum…”
Nanami chuckled darkly, his hand landing another sharp slap on your ass before he picked up the pace, fucking you hard and deep, his cock hitting spots that made your vision blur. 
Your body tensed, teetering on the edge once again as he fucked you harder, the pleasure overwhelming as he pounded into you. 
His thumb pressed against your clit, rubbing with brutal intensity, and the combination of his size, the stinging spanks, and the threat of being filled finally pushed you over the edge. 
You were practically seeing stars as you felt the familiar sense of pleasure begin to creep up on you.
“Cum for me,” Nanami commanded, his voice sharp as he thrust into you with one final, deep stroke. “Take it all.”
Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, your body shaking as you came hard, your walls clenching around him as you milked his cock. 
The intensity of it had your legs trembling, and you barely registered Nanami’s groan of satisfaction as he followed you over the edge, his cock twitching as he spilled inside you, filling you with his cum.
“Fuck, that’s it,” he said, his voice muffled as he squeezed the skin on your hips tightly, staying buried deep inside you as he emptied himself, his breath hot against your neck as he leaned down. 
“Maybe now you’ll finally listen.”
Your body was spent, your legs weak as you leaned against the car, panting and trembling from the overwhelming pleasure.
Nanami stayed inside you for a moment longer, making sure you felt every bit of him before he finally pulled out, leaving you breathless and full.
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jxckchxmpi0n · 5 months ago
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hi :) love your writing btw
could you possibly do something where jack and actress!reader are both in scream 6 and they’re like really close or in a relationship and she steals one of his hoodies or shirts and he notices while hanging out on sept or in his trailer or something? (prompt being “is that my shirt?”)
tysm ilyyy
Behind the Scenes
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Jack Champion x femReader! | m.list
Summary: the on screen relationship started to form off-screen. You and Jack aren't against it.
Warning: just fluff
Word count: 509
Did not proofread.
Ahhh, hi love! I hope you enjoy this! Thank you for requesting this ♡
Edit: first small post <3
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There was about a week left to film Scream Six. Over the last few months, you have grown so close with the cast, both you, Jack and Devyn were welcomed with open arms. There was always something fun happening on set with everyone.
And with the last few days of your shoot, you decided to hang out longer on set even if you were done. At some point you and Jack became inseparable. always being at each other's sides having inside jokes. everyone saw the feelings you two had for each other and so did you, but both of you wanted to wait until filming and the press tour were done before going any further.
you were waiting for him in his trailer while he finished shooting his last scene. mindlessly scrolling through your phone you looked up seeing the door open. he came in with his blue shirt with fake blood on the front when he saw you he had this big smile. "oh there you are i was looking for you" he came in and closed the door behind him.
"been here the whole time" you sat up a little bit so he could sit next to you. he had a tired expression "long shoot?" you asked turning to him you rested on the back of the couch holding your head up.
he took the spot next to you closing his eyes for a moment and nodded. you kept quiet knowing he needed the silence. he eventually turned his head to you with a small smile on his lips. "what?" your voice was in a low whisper.
he lets his eyes linger on your face taking in all your little details. his eyes drifted taking in the familiar color jacket. he lifted his head and looked at the jacket closer then looked back at you.
you had a small smile on your face the corners of your lips tugged up as you looked at him. he reached out grabbing the material. then looked back at you. "is- is that mine?" he asked with a softness and with a chuckle following it.
you looked down and smiles "i got cold" you didn't answer his question so he looked at you reached up to lift your chin up.
"did you take my jacket?" he asked his voice soft but also raspy from being tired.
you nodded "i was cold and it was just here on the couch" a big smile took over his face as he thought about how cute you were. his hand brushing your jawline so softly.
"you know i like you wearing it" he said softly. your cheeks filled with a heat as you blushed.
your heart beating fast at this little moment. his chest also pounding from his heart rate. "keep wearing it" he let go of your chin and let his hand rest back into his lap.
you guys stayed in his trailer for another hour just talking and sharing soft little touches. the desire for the press tour and filming wanting to be over faster.
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tetsumie · 5 months ago
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hey! saw that you were accepting reqs for your 1k event (which congrats btw! so deserved) so was wondering if you could do kuroo w/ the prompt "do you love me?" and let it be hurt/comfort plspls & i couldn't think of an au so uh maybe college au ?? (you can pick the au if you don't feel that one) but yeah tysm and u totally don't need to write it if you're too busy. once again congrats on 1k!
𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒
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pairing: college student!kuroo x reader
genre: comfort
content: you come home after a long day to find solace in kuroo who reminds you that you're not alone.
cw: feelings of insecurities and late night overthinking thoughts
a/n: hi anon bby sorry for posting this so lateeee i've been in a little slump lately but writing this helped me out of it so i appreciate you lots! enjoy! (also this is lwk self indulgent sooo hahahahaha)
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if burn-out could take human form, it would be you.
it's a late friday night when you finally come home from a long shift from your part-time job. the door closes behind you with a quiet click, and you find yourself sliding down against it, your back pressed against the cold wood. your legs are outstretched in front of you, head bowed low, and your arms lie limp at your sides.
god, you're so tired.
"hey," a familiar voice speaks up and pulls you out of your thoughts. "welcome home."
you slightly lift your head and see that he's crouched down beside you, honey-colored eyes looking at you with concern.
you blink in surprise. "tetsu? what are you-"
"your roommate let me in," he cuts you off, as if he anticipated your question. "don't worry, they're not here, they're out for the night."
"oh."
kuroo studies your features with his gaze lingering on the exhaustion etched into your features. you look so worn out and drained.
he can’t help but feel a pang of worry run through his body.
with no hesitation, he scoops you up in his arms which is answered with a surprised yelp from you. "alright you big baby, let's go take a nice bath, yeah?"
you find yourself sitting in front of him with your chest against his back in the bathtub. the scent of the vanilla bath soap fills the air, and the soft glow of candlelight creates a serene ambiance. kuroo’s chest radiates his warmth as he runs reassuring circles on your shoulders.
"you've been so busy lately, hm?" kuroo starts.
you hum in agreement. "yeah, i guess."
he can feel the tension in your body, the weight of you carrying everything. his fingers trace your body: from your delicate shoulders down to your arms, in hopes of easing the heavy weights on your back.
"have you been picking extra shifts at your job?" he asks, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck.
"yeah," you reply, defeated. "my rent isn't gonna pay itself, y'know."
"i know, baby, i know." he gives a tender kiss on your shoulder blade. "i'm glad we could spend some time together today though. you really need a break."
"i'm okay," you say out loud.
are you trying to convince him that you're okay or yourself?
you turn your head to face him and his flushed cheeks are close to yours.
he's so handsome.
without thinking, your hand reaches out to his face, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. he smiles into the kiss, holding you close, refusing to let you go just yet. he lets you cling to him for the rest of the time in the tub as he washes the dirt and tension off your back.
later, as the both of you dry up, kuroo can't help but keep sneaking glances at you.
he knows you’re tired.
he could tell from the moment you were slumped against the front door. he sees it in the distant look in your eyes, the way your mind always seems to be elsewhere, even when you’re together
his whole world (you) was falling apart.
he knew that you were overworking yourself, pushing yourself beyond your limits, and he felt helpless watching it all unfold in front of him.
and to top it off, you’d been avoiding him, making excuses.
something is wrong.
after changing into one of your (his) oversized t-shirts and a pair of shorts, you crawl into bed, patting the space next to you. kuroo takes that as his cue and hops in, beginning to envelop you in his embrace.
your face is in his chest as he's wrapped his big arms around you. you mumble some incoherent words which has him releasing his grip on you.
"what'd you say?" he cocks an eyebrow.
you hesitate, feeling a bit embarrassed to repeat what you said only a few moments prior.
"do you even love me anymore?" you mumble, eyes looking away from him.
he sits up straight now, hands on your cheeks, forcing you to look him in the eye. "what are you even talking about dumbass?"
"i know i haven’t been spending enough time with you and i get if you’re feeling frustrated and annoyed with me…"
he looks at you with a straight face, making him difficult to read.
nonetheless, you continue to pour out your feelings.
"i know i'm a handful and i don't want you to be here because you feel obligated to. i'm sure there are other things that you'd rather be doing right now and i feel bad that you're here when you could be out with your friends doing fun stuff."
your words hang heavy in the air now.
the burden of the past weeks plus the internal guilt you’ve been feeling was finally spoken out into the universe.
it's dead silent and the guilt is suffocating you. you refuse to look up from your lap until he utters out, "so that's what this is about?"
your eyes lift from your fidgeting fingers, widening as you're met with kuroo's piercing, calculating gaze, accompanied by a smirk and a quick flick to your forehead
"ow!" you start rubbing the throbbing part of your head. "what the hell was that for?"
"that was for being a fucking dumbass."
"but i didn't even do anything!"
"you did when you started doubting yourself and letting your insecurities get to you," he says firmly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
"i know you’ve been busy and preoccupied lately and that’s okay, yeah? don’t feel bad about being busy, yeah? that should be the least of your worries. i’m here to pick our relationship up when it gets too heavy for you."
guilt washes over you, mingling with the love you feel for him.
he’s so understanding, so patient... you don’t feel worthy of him.
and almost as if he could read your mind, he keeps going.
"i’ll say this as many times as you need me to: i’ve never felt 'obligated' to be with you or whatever that bullshit means. i’m here because i want to be, not because i have to. i love you, and i want to be here for you."
he looks down at you with your eyes looking up at him. his heart skips a beat at the sight. you look so adorable right now with your a slight pout enveloping your features. he can't help but let a smile escape his lips.
"i’m here because i love you,” he repeats, his voice steady and sincere. “have i not told you how much you mean to me enough?"
you shake your head, immediately. "n-no! you always tell me!"
"i just have been really been in my feelings lately and i've been just trying to keep myself occupied so i don't start spiraling," you look away from kuroo.
"and that's okay, yeah?" he strokes your hair. "no matter what, i promise i’ll try my best to be there for you. i want to be here for you."
he kisses the top of your head. "i love you, my pretty. don't you ever forget that."
you wrap your arms around his neck and start peppering his face with small kisses. before you know it, you're lying on top of him now and your faces are only mere centimeters apart from one another. you can feel his breath on your chin and the lingering scent of his cologne infiltrate your nostrils.
"i’m sorry i haven’t been around you more," you whisper, guilt still gnawing at you.
"it's okay, my love. i promise," he reassures you once more. "i'm glad i could be here."
"i love you, stupid," you tell him, placing a quick kiss on your lips.
"i know," he laughs, pulling you back to his lips and letting you go for a quick second. "i love you too." and he continues to kiss you and hold you for the rest of the night until the sun rises.
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© tetsumie 2024 all rights reserved
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fuxuannie · 2 years ago
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Hi sage!! I hope you're doing well<33 do you mind doing jealousy headcanons for dan heng, jing yuan and any other characters you chose?? Thank you 🤍🤍 you're keeping the hsr x reader tag alive 😭
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* pairing(s) : various hsr men (4, again) x gender neutral reader
* prompt : jealousy bites like you like a poisonous snake, the bite hurts, but its the venom that gets you.
* authors note : hi anon !!! (๑´ㅂ`๑) thank you for requesting, you're so sweet for the last msg omg tysm <3 i hope u enjoy !
* brief warning : blade kills a man, very blade of him. (his is also more of a joke im sorry blade lovers) ALSO THIS PROGRESSIVELY GETS SHORTER EACH CHARACTER, I JUST REALLY LIKE DAN HENG IM SORRY LMAO.
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DAN HENG can't hide the way his eye twitches, how tightly he grips onto his spear or the way he'd mutter things under his breath. He despises it when he's jealous, but he hates it more when he sees the reason for doing so.
He knows he's.. not exactly like all your previous partners, it stemmed an insecurity in him. He wasn't all too funny, and knew he couldn't make you laugh with a corny joke.
So the way Sampo keeps making you laugh, making you smile, it was sparking a jealous flame in his heart. But more than anything, it saddened him that he couldn't make you laugh like that.
God, your smile was so pretty.
After a while, he interlocks his fingers with yours and mutters a small 'Can we go?' to you. You immediately notice his saddened tone, and thank Sampo for his time before walking home with your boyfriend.
"Dan Heng?" You say softly, noticing his rather saddened mood. He lets out a small hum to acknowledge your call for him, and you sigh. "Are you upset?"
He nods his head.
"Is it.. because of Sampo?"
He hesitates, but that alone gives you an answer.
Dan Heng takes a deep breath, before looking at you, his eyes filled with honesty. "I was.. jealous. I know I can't make you laugh the way he does, and it frustrates me. I want to be a man who makes you smile everyday but-"
Amidst his rant, he sees how your gaze softened at his words. This entire time, he was insecure? He hid it well, so well, at the very least from you. "I'm sorry, this is stupid-"
"N-no! It's not, I should be apologizing if anything! I failed to realize these things.. I'm sorry, my love. Sampo.. he makes me laugh, but you make my heart flutter. You make me feel things no one else can, okay? I'm yours, as you are mine."
He smiles at you, he's just happy he communicated his feelings, and you understood. "I'll be sure to try and tell you how I feel next time, okay? As long as you promise you'll stop hanging out with him. I was honestly afraid I was gonna have to get rid of him."
You blinked a few times, but he sighs. "I'm kiddinngg.."
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JING YUAN knows he's far too good of a man, therefore doesn't get jealous.
He's yet to be disproven in the first part, but his golden eyes are filled with annoyance as the stares of a certain enemy of his lingers far too long on you.
You were filling in for Yanqing, he was absent for the day (something about falling into an ice cold river and getting sick or something...) and so someone needed to be there as the General would be meeting Blade.
And Jing Yuan couldn't ignore how Blade's eyes never left your form while he spoke, hanging your head down low and so you wouldn't notice. That made him greatly annoyed, almost unable to focus, but he had a mission at hand. And so he forced his jealousy to subside.
Needless to say, the small marks on your neck was embarassing to have seen in public. (And the small bird constantly pecking at Blade's hair was definitely also not Jing Yuans doing.)
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GEPARD is so understanding, he evaluates every situation with logical thinking, as expected as a leader.
So it wasn't hard to figure out the intentions of the 'friend' that was speaking to you, how their voice was almost sweeter, and the way they clinged onto your arm was signalling red flags.
Gepard wouldn't have minded this, it could've easily been friendly gestures, but Serval is one of your closest friends and you were within a friendgroup. And she knows that person has a crush on you, and it was painfully obvious.
So naturally, he swiftly and surpisingly gently pulls you from the waist out of their grasp especially with how firm his grip around you was. He gives them a not so friendly glare, and plants a soft kiss to your lips. "My partner." He states, pulling you close as you're left to be stunned with the sudden posessiveness of your partner. "Mine."
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Blade simply stares down at the person even attempting to approach you with clearly bad intentions. And if they dare to try to push their luck, Blade comes home with blood on his hands.
"What did you do??" You'd ask, you already knew the answer after already learning what Blade was truly like. "What was necessary." He replied, a kiss on your cheek as he walks in through the door to wash his hands.
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castiwls · 10 months ago
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confessions - d.w
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Paring; dean x reader
Prompt; Confessing your love while drunk is all well and good until that drink wears off. (pt2 for drunken confessions)
Requested; @nix-rose
Notes;tysm for the request sorry this took so long lmao <3
Masterlist | pt1
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Taking a sip from the mug you continued staring forward. You’d barely slept the night before, your mind had been going a mile a minute ever since you’d managed to get Dean into his room and convinced him to sleep.
So far you’d spent most of your time thinking over what you could possibly say to him whenever he emerged from his room. The weight of ruining your friendship lay heavy over you, while he’d claimed to be in love you had no way to know if he was telling the truth.
You’d known Dean long enough to know that when he got drunk enough his emotions came pouring out in strange ways. Sometimes he’d bottle up and refuse to say anything, he’d use the drink to dull the pain yet sometimes he went in the completely other direction. And last night seemed that he’d been pretty open and willing to talk about things such as how he felt.
Though you knew that the chances of him even remembering coming home last night were low.
Letting out a small sigh you placed the mug down on the table before looking to the door for a moment. The sound of footsteps caught your attention as you watched the doorway. As they grew closer the sound of a small groan echoed off the walls. Your lips quirked up slightly at the sound.
“Morning.” Dean paused in the doorway rubbing a hand over his eyes. His gaze fell onto you and he tensed for a moment before clearing his throat. Slowly he took a seat opposite you, his eyes falling on your mug. 
Wordlessly you pushed it over to him earning a small smile in thanks. He took a long sip before placing the mug down and staring at it. “How’s your head?” You placed your hands on the table in front of you looking at him expectantly. Dean looked up a small frown on his lips. “Sore.” 
You were both quiet for a moment as he quickly finished the drink. His shoulders seemed to tense the longer you both sat in silence. 
“Look, I’m not gonna dig into you about the whole getting drunk and not getting supplies,” Dean visibly relaxed at your words, part of him had expected you to chew him out the minute he’d walked into the kitchen yet you hadn't. Something which had left him feeling slightly on edge. “But we do need to talk about something.” A pit of anxiety was quickly forming in your stomach as you watched him tense again.
Taking a breath to calm your nerves you caught his gaze. “Do you…do you remember what you said last night?” Dean’s breath hitched slightly as he pushed the empty mug away. He kept your gaze as you began to nervously fiddle with your hands at his continued silence.
He pursed his lips for a moment before he closed his eyes. “I told you.” A small laugh left his lips as he leaned back in his chair running a hand down his face. “I…what did I say.” He stared at you expectantly as he bit down on his lip. He wasn’t one for sharing his feelings and the idea that he’d drunkenly blurted them out made him feel slightly sick.
The idea of being completely vulnerable with someone normally left him feeling on edge but the idea of being drunk and doing it freaked him out endlessly. 
“Not much.” You assured him. “You just…just confessed your love.” You watched as Dean’s eyes widened slightly before he nodded slowly. He thought for a moment allowing the initial shock he felt to dissipate. 
“How do you feel about it? About what I said?” His face stayed neutral but you could see the small glimmer of hope in his eyes. A small laugh left your lips, he was trying to skate around it. You’d seen him do this before, he wasn’t going to admit anything until you did. 
“That depends. Did you mean it?” 
You watched with bated breath as he was silent for a moment. You knew this could make or break your whole friendship with him. Dean Winchester was not someone who enjoyed being vulnerable, but if he really meant it then surely he could be vulnerable around you.
“I did. Hell, I really wish you hadn’t found out this way. But I really meant it.” 
He watched you closely for a moment before reaching for one of your hands. “Sweetheart, please don’t leave me hanging here.” He chucked nervously. “Maybe drunk you is braver than both of us.” You smiled squeezing his hand. You felt him squeeze your hand back a smile of his own growing on his lips.
“I’ve felt the same since we met.” Finally being able to admit it felt like a weight had been lifted off your chest almost. You’d carried around these feelings for so long that you’d accepted the fact that nothing would ever come of them yet here you were.
Dean’s grin seemed to grow at your confession. “So me getting drunk paid off then.” He joked watching as you quietly laughed as well.
“I guess it did.” You nodded. “We still need to talk about that though.” 
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temiizpalace · 5 months ago
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hi!! requesting for the fight for the prefect's love event,,,, can i have leona and jade with prompt 8, with the reader choosing leona in the end? thank you!!!!
☆┊MATCHING BRACELETS?! OH HE HAS ONE TOO.. (🐬 vs. 🦁)
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SUMMARY: YOU MADE A MATCHING BRACELET FOR HIM, NEARLY MELTING HIS HEART. THEN HE SEE’S YOU MADE ONE FOR HIM TOO.. WHATEVER! HE’LL PROVE HIS IS BETTER.
CHARACTERS: jade leech vs. leona kingscholar
EVENT MASTERLIST
WARNINGS: determined end couple, jealousy, jade leech is jade leech and leona kingscholar is leona kingscholar
NOTES: jade and leona beefing more often would be so funny in canon tbh. tysm for your request!
reader is g/n, reader is not specified to be yuu
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˚∘☆∘˚
jade was delighted to receive such a peculiar piece of jewelry, especially one of pearls.
“like it? i saw it at sam’s and couldn’t resist.” you laugh, flashing him a grin before showing him the matching pearls on your wrists. “now we match.” his features softened at your enthusiasm, heart nearly melting at your smile. “indeed we do. the pearls are exquisite, i will cherish these.” jade smiles back, returning your excitement with his own, though a little more toned down.
you were practically illuminated by the purple lights shining down in octavinelle, enhancing your already enchanting appearance. the pearls on your wrist shimmer just as brightly as you did. such a shame they clashed with a leather bracelet on your right hand, and a lion beastman sitting in your booth.
“gotta thank leona for being able to help me pay! otherwise i could forget about it.” you chuckle, patting leona’s shoulder as he sips on his drink. “only cause ya practically begged for it.” he retorts, looking away from you. “is that so? your kindness is much appreciated, leona.” jade chuckles, maintaining his polite demeanor. though he acted oh so kind and understanding, his smile fails to meet his cold glare.
it was as obvious as black and white to jade. the way leona speaks with you, acts with you, acts with others around you, it was as plain as day. leona kingscholar was in love with you, and jade couldn’t stand the thought of it. he knew sweeping you off your feet would be a difficult task due to the fact that a beastman of all things already laid their claim onto you, but he was a stubborn man. leona’s courting rituals didn’t faze him, not in the least.
he’ll get you in the end, one way or another. jade is a very patient man.
“if that’ll be all, then i shall be off now. [MC], i hope to see you on campus. leona, please enjoy your evening.” jade slips the bracelet onto his wrists, admiring its beauty before clearing his throat and returning to work, giving you and leona a quick bow before walking off. before he left your side, he gave you a faint poke to the cheek before attending to the neighboring tables.
leona, while lazy, was also observant. he saw how jade looks at you all goo-goo eyed. disgusting. it’s like his obvious signs meant nothing to him (it didn’t). he stares at the pearls illuminating your wrists, not bothering to hide his obvious jealousy. before buying these stupid pearls, he was the one you matched with. your excitement was reared towards someone else, and he does not like it.
if anyone were to be the reason of your happiness, it should be him and his lovely leather bracelets. watching as you fidget with the bracelets on your wrists, leona leans his head onto your shoulder, shutting his eyes as he set down his now empty cup. “oh? what’s up with you?” you laugh, caressing his chin. “nothin.” he scoffs, leaning into your touch further.
“stop, you and i both know you’re lying.” you pinch leona’s cheek instead, earning scowl and a groan from the boy next to you. “quit it.” he grumbles, swatting your hand away from his face. “softie. it’s ok, you dont gotta hide it from me.” you tease, a hint of truth and sincerity hidden in your words. “tch. whatever.” he sighs, nuzzling into your neck.
“yeah, yeah, i knew it.” you grin, patting his shoulder. this is what leona wanted. having you, all your attention, just to himself. a scene almost too romantic for a certain eels own taste. jade nearly cracks the plate he held in his hands, scaring the nearby customers he just happened to serve.
“hey, jade, what’s got yer panties in a twist?” floyd asks, draping himself over his brother. “ah, it was nothing. just a simple thought was all.” he showed his brother a toothy grin, staring down at his wrist as a reminder to remain calm. he glances back at the table where you sat, seeing as leona now rested himself on your lap. he was supposedly asleep, but jade knew better.
leona opened one eye to glare at jade, a smirk tugging at his lips as your hand ran through his hair. the hand with the pearls brushed through each of the boys braids, nearly contaminating its beauty. “jade, you’re like totally overflowing that dudes glass.” floyd giggles, watching as the water dripped onto the poor customers lap.
the customer was the least of his worries, but he’s a refined gentlemen, tending to everyone’s needs. leona sticks his tongue out as jade walks by, knowing that he lost. you chose him. the eel was far too late.
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A/N: rip jade and his loving fantasies (not some of my best work im sorry if this disappoints)💔💔
date published: 8/25/24
© temiizpalace — do not copy, steal, or put my work into ai. thank you!
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hoshigray · 2 years ago
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Alright, y'all, here's the plan: you're not quite aware of what Toji does for work, yet you keep quiet. But one night, the man comes home bleeding, and you can't keep your worries to yourself anymore. However, for your protection, Toji isn't ready to reveal his assassin business to you. And, in the heat of the moment, ends up saying something that hurts you instead...
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A/n: (Reuploaded bc I forgot smthn) This prompt was picked from a poll to celebrate the 300+ followers milestone (pssst tysm for 450+ you lovelies :D) two weeks back. Truthfully, I don't think this is my best work after proofreading, but I did my best. Probably bc 1) it's longer than I intended, and 2) I procrastinated waaaaay too much with this. I don't even think I made sense halfway through, lol, but fuck it, we ball. Anyways, like last time, there is art drawn by me (@hoshigaby) but it'll be found deep in the fic :33
I hope you enjoy the ride and reblogs + replies are much appreciated!! Also, don't be alarmed that Y/n in the drawing looks of a dark complexion, feel free to use your imagination if it doesn't suit you. But do not edit it; be an adult and ignore it if it's not your taste.
Cw: Toji x fem!reader - arguing/yelling - fingering (fem! receiving) - mating press - Daddy kink - first Toji is sour, then he's sweet bc he's whipped for you :) - clitoral play (pressing down and a pinch) - praise - breast fondling + nipple play - pet names (angel, baby, darlin', honey, kid, mama/ma, princess, sweetheart/sweetie) - Megumi mean-mugging his father while Tsumiki and Shiu Kong tell him to do better lol - mentions of blood and stab wound; isn't fully healed so reopens.
Wc: 5.8k
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"Uhh, are you sleeping on the couch?"
"Yes. Yes, I am."
"...Why??"
You scrunch your brow at your phone, looking at the two people you're talking to through the screen. "I know you're not about to get on my case over where I'm sleeping."
On the L-shaped couch lay you, cuddled up with a fluffy blanket and memory foam pillow, one hand holding your phone while another wrapped around a stuffed plushy. You were on a video call with your best friends: Utahime and Mei Mei.
Utahime, lying on her bed with a face mask, replied to you. "Oh, I'm definitely getting on your case because it's supposed to be the other way around!"
"True, but I like the couch anyways." You puff at the woman who's not satisfied with your answer. "Plus, I'm on the L-part of the couch, so it's practically like a bed!"
Your other friend, Mei Mei, chuckles at her screen. Icy blue hair pulled up in a bun with reading glasses positioned atop her forehead, probably counting her tips on her desk like she always does before bed. "My my, this is the fourth night this week. What did your man say to make you this upset?"
Memories of what happened before come back to you, and so does the exhausting irritation you've been trying to keep at bay.
It was a quiet night like this one as the rain fell hard on the silent streets. You've just put Tsumiki and Megumi to sleep and waited in the living room, watching a movie to pass the time. It was pretty late into the night when you heard the door open as drowsiness settled in. Nevertheless, you got up to greet the man you'd been waiting for coming from the entrance, but you weren't prepared for the sight that instantly woke you up.
Toji Fushiguro, groaning and leaning against the wall with his black jean jacket drenched from the rain. A hand was clenched on the left side of his torso, deep red tarnishing his plain white shirt. He was heaving in an attempt to even his breathing, but when he caught a glimpse of you standing before him, he was quick to try and play it off with a worn-out grin. "Hey, baby." His familiar deep voice was strained in subtle agony.
Worry bubbles within, and you rush towards him. "Oh my God, Toji, what happened!?" You remind yourself to not be too loud as the children are still asleep, so you rely on whisper yellings while walking him up to your shared bedroom.
Even in the room, Toji doesn't explain himself. Just silent hushes and cajoles that he's alright. "I'm fine, honey. Just tell me where's the first aid box." Pointing at the bathroom cabinet, you watch him leave your side to grab the kit. The crimson spilling from him is caused by a stab wound he reveals when he sits on the bathtub, lifting his shirt. You can feel your eyes water, imagining the pain he's going through when he hisses from putting on rubbing alcohol on the gash.
The words you want to say feel so forbidden. Your fingers fidget amongst themselves with the irregular beat of your chest. Don't say it, Y/n. Keep your mouth shut. Don't—
"Is this from work?"
Green eyes shoot back in your direction, and you immediately feel yourself sinking into a pool of regret.
Talk of Toji's occupation wasn't something you brought up much. Even at the beginning of your relationship, he didn't indulge in any insights about what he does, so you eventually quit after a few failed attempts. However, with all the nights he's come home while you sleep or the new scars you point out yet are brushed off, your anxiousness for him keeps festering. And seeing him with his own blood on his hands made you wonder how many nights he has pulled off doing such without your knowledge.
Toji's eyes go back to his wound. "Don't worry 'bout it." The stern tone of his voice has your blood turn cold. He didn't want to entertain this, especially in the wee hours of the night.
And yet you still persist. "No, Toji, I'm serious." You can see him glare at you through the raven bangs shading his forehead. A warning. But it doesn't stop you. "I'm getting worried about you."
From there was when the argument came. Every point you've made to him was shut down at once. His cold responses pierced you. Usually, you'd do what you can to avoid this type of confrontation. But now, it hurts even more when he doesn't cooperate with you, your concerns disregarded like rubbish.
"Damn it, Y/n!" Toji barks at you, seething through the physical pain as a fist bangs hard on the bathroom cabinet. "Why's it so hard for you to stay out of this?"
"Well, if you would tell me things instead of pushing me out the way, then maybe I wouldn't have to!" At this point, you're fighting the tears from falling. Your face hot with frustration, but you still speak. "Toji, I've done so much for you and the kids, and I—"
"No one told you to do—"
"Yet I STILL do!" It's your turn to yell. "I care about you deeply, same with Tsumiki and Megumi. I don't ask for much, Toji. But I want you to open your life to me just a little, even when you're hurt like this!"
His emerald eyes remain rigid despite your pleas to him. And what he said next had you still to the core. You can recall the beat of your heart corrupting your senses while the tears stride down.
"If you were goin' to be a thorn on my side like this, I wouldn't have let you be in it in the first place."
"He said WHAT!!??" Utahime shrieks after you retell the situation to your friends.
You nod your head. "I just looked at him, and he looked at me. Then I turned, picked my pillow up, and headed downstairs to this couch."
To say the dark-haired woman was livid was an understatement. "And tell me WHY this fucker isn't the one sleeping on this couch, again??"
"Even if I did tell him to sleep on the couch, he probably would say something like, 'Tch, why should I? I pay bills for this damn house,' and yadda, yadda." This is true, apart from the man being injured, so having him move would've been immoral. "Plus, I just really wanted to get outta the room, so I went ahead and moved myself out."
"So? You pay bills too, what the hell!? Good God, Y/n," Utahime shakes her head. "You sure we can't pummel this dude?"
"Yes, I'm sure. Besides, I'm getting used to ignoring him when I see him around the house. But, oh my God, guys, his kids," the phone panned down to the plush toy and the pink, fluffy blanket. "Miki saw me sleeping here the other morning and gave me this blanket. And Gumi — he's such a sweetie. He gave me his favorite froggy toy to sleep with to scare off his dad from 'bothering me in my dreams.' "
"Hmm, how adorable." Mei Mei comments. "Funny how such darlings can come from a guy like that."
Utahime nods rapidly and throws in her opinion. "Listen, Y/n, you shouldn't think you outta be in every part of that man's life. Even so, he should at least know how to compromise. I mean, come on, you take care of him, the kids, the house, and go to work with us. All of that just for you to sleep on a couch!?"
"You're not gonna let this couch thing go, aren't you?" The pale blue-haired woman chuckles again, and Utahime sighs. "But she's right, Y/n. It takes a certain kind of person to have the patience to do what you do in a relationship with a single father and two children. I'm sure Utahime would've left with all her hair out."
The dark-haired one gets up from her bed and takes her device with her, heading to the bathroom to finish her skin care. "Now, why am I the one used as an example?"
"Because you're the most vocal about a relationship that isn't yours." A sly smile is painted on Mei Mei's face after she hears a 'hmph!' from the other as Utahime removes the mask and washes her face. "My point is that you like this man — love him even. But that love shouldn't cost you to be so emotionally drained. Perhaps he understands this, except it wasn't the perfect moment for you two to express yourselves. Maybe talk to him when you two stop the silent treatment."
All you do is hum aimlessly, too wrapped in what your friend said to give a proper response. Then you yawn, your body signaling you to finally rest. "I'll sleep on that thought. Night, girlies~~" You wave and send kisses to the other two. They do the same as you leave the video call, placing the phone on the coffee table and snuggling up with the blanket and plush toy.
You try to distract yourself by thinking of what you'll do tomorrow. You gotta get up and make breakfast for Tsumiki and Megumi before waking them up, then head to the station and take the bus to work. Maybe you can finally try that new café close by with Mei Mei and Utahime for lunch. And when you return home, you should whip up something fun for the kids to eat.
Perhaps, make something for Toji since he sometimes forgets to feed himself when you're not around. Or if he's leaving for work, wish him a safe trip back home like always. And...if he's down for it...you can find the right time......to talk...about......
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The moment you closed your eyes, it felt as though you were sleeping on your own bed again. When you turn to your side, your body descends into the feeling of cold sheets beneath you. It was pretty comfy! Plus, the blanket—
Wait...Sheets?
Your eyes slowly open to the sight of bedsheets underneath you. Navigating out of the sleepy stupor, you make out parts of your surroundings to know that you're not in the living room anymore. You slowly rise up to face the door of the bedroom. Your shared bedroom.
A sudden cough alerts you, forced as if to grab your attention. A chill crawls up your spine. Oh God, no. You turn to the side to see the man accompanying his side of the bed. And there he was, Toji, lying on his side with his head resting on a hand, looking dead at you. His raven hair looked damp from a recent shower, sporting only a grey wifebeater and dark sweatpants.
"Hey," is all he says to you. No smirk and no nickname followed with the greeting. Just a simple address to you with his green eyes softly watching yours. You almost fall into their inviting spell the more you look at them.
Nonetheless, it's not compelling enough since you remember he's the man you fought with four days ago — the same man you weren't prepared to see right now. You quickly turn away from him and lift the comforter to exit the room. However, Toji grabbed your wrist before your feet could touch the floor, his grip too strong for you to pull away from him.
You avoid eye contact with him, your back facing him. "Toji, let me go. I'm going to sleep."
"Then sleep."
"On the couch, Toji." You try and pull again. Nothing.
"Fuck that, just sleep here. I didn't carry you up here for nothin'."
You shake your head as you exhale through your nose. Of course, he carried me here. "Whatever happened to you not wanting me to be a part of your life?"
The words that left your lips surprised you and the grip around your wrist tightens. You didn't mean to say them, but it was the truth because they were his own words. Or did you?
Still facing away from Toji, you're unable to see his reaction. Oh shit, is he angry? Is he going to let me go after that?
"Darlin', please..." His deep voice hushed for only you to hear. "I just really need you with me here. Just for tonight...." His hold lessens, leaving you to decide whether you should stay.
The silence is uncomfortable for both of you — especially for Toji, who has you where he wants you to be, where you're supposed to be. As seconds pass when he doesn't hear from you, the nervousness that used to exist before your relationship rises back into the pit of his stomach. And his soul drops down when you remove your wrist from his hand.
Though, to his surprise, your hand lifts the comforter up while your legs move back on top of the mattress. You lay back down with a sigh, your back still facing Toji. "Did you give Miki back her blanket?"
Toji exhales quietly, situating himself back on his side of the bed. "Yeah, and Megumi with his toy."
You hum, and the silence fills the room once more.
Toji looks at nothing but your figure next to him, watching the rise and fall of your shoulder as you breathe silently, your face nestled comfortably on the pillow. To think it's been half a week since he last saw you in this room is hard to believe.
That night when you left him really stuck with him. The image of your face covered in tears was all he envisioned, the same with you grabbing your pillow and exiting the room. After tending his stab wound, he went down to talk it out. Yet when Toji saw you sleeping soundly on the couch with dried tears painting your pretty face, he didn't dare wake you up and just went to bed.
And it was worse the following days. Not only did he have you avoiding him at every chance, but he had to deal with the judgmental looks of his children. Never in his life has he seen Megumi give him glares that meant business. If looks could kill, Toji would be finished. And Tsumiki, his sweet little girl, now pesters him about being nice to Y/n, saying he should think about their feelings and apologize.
But what about his feelings? Does no one understand that he was just trying to keep you out of business that you didn't need to fret over? He's very aware that his job is not a normal one. It's dangerous, and anyone around him can get hurt or worse. Hence, keeping you away from this part of his life keeps you and his family safe. If not knowing he's an assassin keeps you from harm's way, why change that.
At least...that's what he thought, not what he said.
Even Shiu Kong, his handler, had something to say after telling him what had happened during lunch today. "Wow. I knew you were trash, but I didn't know you were that dumb, too." The man snickers when Toji shoves a middle finger his way. Shiu lights another cigarette after discarding the one he finishes. "Well, how were they supposed to know you were watching out for them? If someone you love comes to your front door bloody and sick, whose safety are you worrying about?"
Toji says nothing to that, letting the other man resume speaking some sense into him after taking a long sig from his cigarette.
"Look. I can't promise that this angel of yours wants to stay with you after what you said. That's all up to them. But until they decide that, I hope your dumbass realizes when someone sticks with you literally through blood and pain, that's someone who cares for you to the Moon and back. Not saying you should tell them what you do, but a nice word or two of comfort is all they need. If you're not that big of an idiot, reconcile and let them know you care about them."
"...Reconcile and let them know you care about them..."
If there's one thing that Toji has trouble with, it's knowing how to use his words. It was a tiny problem in the earlier stages of your relationship, but as time flew, you could guess how much the tall man cherishes you by his actions rather than words.
The older man knows that you know he loves you. But now, when he's pushed into a position where words are necessary to portray his real feelings for you, he feels stumped.
"If you were goin' to be a thorn on my side like this, I wouldn't have let you be in it in the first place."
Toji grimaces at his own words replaying in his head. Why the fuck did I say that?
"Whatever happened to you not wanting me to be a part of your life?"
Your words ring in his mind. Why did I fuckin' say that for? What the hell is wrong with me? What did—
"Toji?"
He returns to reality, eyes moving back to your still silhouette.
"I know you're still awake, so I'm gonna ask this." Toji braces himself for whatever your soft voice muttered. "Whatever job you're doing, is it a dangerous one?"
Shit. The dreaded talk is here, and Toji cannot escape it.
"Yeah."
"Are you good at your job?"
"It's the only thing I'm good at."
You nod your head aimlessly to his answer. Then you turn around to face the anxious older man. The moonlight peaking through the window blinds illuminates your face beautifully while Toji's breathing slows.
"I don't think that's true," you continue to answer. "You're good at being a father to Tsumiki and Megumi. Not the best, but a decent one nonetheless. You're also good at caring for me; letting me live with you and your family proves that. And lastly," Toji gulps with a dry throat.
"You're good at loving. You say you're lousy at it, but there's love in everything you do for me. It's there when you look at me whenever you think I'm unaware. Or when you silently grab my hand when in crowded areas. Or," a small chuckle exits from you. "When you carry me up from downstairs to the bedroom."
Toji's jade eyes lock in with yours, waiting for you to avert your gaze away from him. But you don't. You keep looking at him. You keep spoiling him. This type of recognition is something Toji never thought he deserved, so you giving it to him so effortlessly makes his growing guilt eat him alive.
"I care about you so much, Toji." You shift closer to Toji and bring a hand to his cheek, causing the man to lift his brows. Your face is only a few inches away from his. "What happened yesterday really scared me. All I could think about was the wound and all the scars you have. Where they all came from and how deep they are. Or......you never coming back."
"Baby..." Toji absently refers to you with a sweet name, placing his big hand on top of yours on his cheek. He lets you finish.
"I know you can't guarantee coming back to me unscathed, but I just want you to promise me something: please let me know you'll be okay. When you're gone, I can only hope you make it back home safely. So, just promise to not get yourself killed." A sheepish smile is used to ease the serious tone. "Even if I'm not in your life, I'm sure Tsumiki and Megumi would be pretty upset to not have you around."
Toji scoffs. "Trust me, I'm sure they'd leave me the moment you step out the door." That makes you laugh, and it has the man swooning hearing it. His hand moves to your cheek, and you allow him to stroke it with a thumb. "And I wouldn't blame 'em. Havin' such a beautiful and loving angel slip through my fingers?"
"Toji..."
"I'm sorry for what I said and scarin' you like that. If you aren't here with me, as part of my life and all, then I don't think I can't make a promise like that. You're too good fr' me, and I'm sorry if I didn't seem to appreciate you until now."
And you know he's genuine with his plea, his green eyes gauging your reaction to see if he's worth another chance. All you do is sigh and lift yourself up, wipe his wet bangs from his forehead, and kiss it. "Not the best apology, but I accept it."
He drones, relishing the feeling of your lips on him again. "So, are we cool, kid?"
"Yeah," you peer down at him with a smile, and he does the same. "We're cool. However, if you ever yell at me again, don't be surprised when I pack my bags."
"Oh yeah?" Toji raises a brow. "I'll be careful, then."
"You better." Hushed chuckles are shared to comfort the silence, enjoying the closeness between you two that felt like forever to have again. Just the two of you with you giggling above him and the light from the window cascading an ethereal glow to your features. Your teeth shied behind pretty lips, lips he wanted to kiss.
And you catch him looking. You notice him wanting you, needing you. Just as much as you need him. You slowly lean down to his face, planting your soft lips on his rigid pair.
Toji's surprised by the action for a moment, but he moans into your mouth and pulls you into him closer. The kiss starts off nice and slow yet quickly changes to one filled with passion and desire. Teeth clashing, tongues exchanging, sweet moans paired with aroused groans.
As you two are lost in each other's lips, Toji carefully maneuvers you on your back with him on top of you. Your legs find purchase around his waist as he rocks into your core, rocking your hips together in a steady rhythm by the second.
His hand snakes down to your lower region, fingers brushing past your pajamas and onto your panty-covered vulva. The intrusion has you breaking the kiss with heavy breaths filling the silent, moonlit room. He busses your chin down to your neck as shaky mewls slip out your mouth.
"Haaah, Toji, we shouldn't. It's late—Hmmm..." Your whimpers don't stop him from pulling your pajamas and undergarments off.
"It's okay, sweetheart, lemme make it up to you." He says in-between kisses on your clavicle, pulling up your shirt to reveal your bare chest. His free hand fondles a breast before his mouth goes for the other. "Let Daddy take care of you..."
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The sudden combination of his thick fingers intruding between your nether folds and his mouth sucking and licking your sensitive nipple has you whining in bliss, your hand gripping his wet raven hair resulting in a satisfied groan from the older man. Toji missed this — missed you — close to him, under him on this bed.
One finger plays with your wet chasm for a few moments before it's inserted inside. A shriek is let out as your cunt adjusts to the digit. "Mmmph! Oh God, Daddy, your fingers...Ahhh!"
A soft 'pop' leaves from Toji's mouth when pulled back from sucking on your nipple, his tongue lapping around the sensitive nob. "What's that, mama? My fingers feelin' good?" You nod rapidly, but that's not the answer Toji's looking for, so he bites on your nipple gingerly yet hard enough for you to jolt. "Daddy wants your words, angel."
"Yesss, yes, your fingers feel soo good," You mewl to him, and Toji chuckles dangerously low while rewarding you with another digit in your slick-coated hole. His abrupt middle finger joins his forefinger in attacking your velvety walls, and your voice shifts higher in ecstasy.
The sounds of Toji's tongue licking around your nipple coincide with the squelches between his fingers and your gushy slit. Your brain starts to short-circuit.
"Ahh! Ahhh! Daddy, I can feel—I'm gonna," Toji's fingers pick up the pace. You're so close to release, you can feel it.
"Gonna be good and cum on Daddy's fingers, right, baby?"
"Mhmmm, I wanna co—Oh, Jesus, I wanna come. Hoooooh..."
"Then go ahead, princess. Mess 'em up." Toji comes up to kiss your forehead as his fingers go irrationally fast, and a thumb sneaks to press down on your unattended clit. With a choked cry, you spasm and cream on his thick digits. He watches you finish, loving the image of your head pushed back on pillows and your body arching towards him.
He dismisses himself from you once you're done, licking his fingers of your essence and taking off his wifebeater and pants. The image of his free cock has you biting your lower lip in anticipation as you discard your shirt to the bedroom floor as well. When you look at Toji, you notice the bandaged patch on his left side. He sees you glimpsing, quick to ease your concerns. "I'll be fine, darlin'. Won't go too crazy." Looking at his scarred body in a new light, you nod and follow his lead.
Toji carries your legs up to move to the right of his shoulder, situating you two into a mating press. His dick aligns with your glossy cunt. Precum meets slick and lubricates the two sexes pushing into each other. Toji coaxes you. "Too tense, ma. Relax fr' me." You prepare yourself with even breaths, and the man pushes into you with each exhale.
The head of his cock enters, a cry departs from your lips, and Toji hisses with the tightness of your slit. His hips go slow, making sure your walls accommodate every vein and dent of his dick as it ventures deep within you. Hits to your G-spot have you babbling incoherent prayers, gripping the sheets under you.
When his cockhead finally meets your cervix, you sob his name in rapture. Toji smirks, dialing the pace of his thrusts up. "Mmmm, Christ, yr' tight pussy. So fuckin' perfect fr' me."
Every stroke prompts a euphoric moan from you, drool escaping your lips as your mind turns into putty. The noises of his pelvis smacking on your ass feel so wrong to hear, yet you can't help but grip around Toji's girthy length. It gets worse when he presses his entire body weight on you, forcing you to take his cock and abusing your tender cervix with every deep rut.
As for Toji, he's enjoying seeing you writhe and pant under his bow. The corner of your eyes sprinkled with tears, your mouth wailing in euphoric chants, the way your cunt clamps around his dick when he grinds his hips deep onto your come-covered folds. He can never get enough of this, enough of you, driving him so fucking crazy.
"Daddyyy, I'm gonna—Ahhaaaa!!" Toji's now going at an erratic cadence, his cock churning your insides as his heavy balls slapping your folds being the only things you can listen to. Your whines get higher and higher while chasing your climax. "Cu-cumming, I'm gonna cumm—Ohhh!!"
"Hnngh! Oh, shit, fuck, fuck. Me too, kid, me too," Toji groans into your ear. God, his deep voice makes your brain mush. "Oooooh, want me to fill you up, mama?"
Your head nods frantically, tears now staining your face. "Yessss, please, Daddy!! I want it!" Toji hears your pleas and smashes his mouth into yours, moans swapped between lips with tongues daubed in saliva. A hand is moved down to your clit, pinching the spot between Toji's forefinger and thumb. And your pussy tightens around his cock one last time before you peak onto him.
The fluttery spasms of your walls clenching around Toji have him finish in three deep strokes, spurting his seed inside you before he relaxes his heaving body on yours. The kiss breaks with you two huffing and panting, the final moments of your high finally depleting out of your nude bodies.
His green eyes take in your dazed expression, calloused fingers wiping your tears away. "How's that for an apology?"
"You pervy old man," You chuckle to yourself, so out of breath. "You're more of a man of action anyway, so you pulled through. "
"Hehe, I'll take it." He cups your jaw with his big hand, your eyes locked in with his. "I love you so fuckin' much, baby. Sorry for ever making you think otherwise."
You blink once. Twice. Your hands come up to his face, and a finger swipes away black bangs stuck to his sweaty forehead. "I love you too, Toji. I would've left your ass if you weren't."
Toji smiles and leans in to kiss your swollen lips with his scared ones; however, a sharp pain stops him, prompting the big man to yell out. Worried, you try to assess what's wrong. Then you see it: the blood-stained bandage on his left side.
A gasp catches his attention, and Toji turns to what you're gawking at. His body freezes, seeing the trail of blood exit from his reopened wound.
"Ahhhh shit..."
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"Well, well, well," Utahime smirks at you through the screen. "I see you're not on the couch anymore."
You smile sheepishly as you lie on the pillows and headboard of your shared bed. Tsumiki and Megumi huddle beside you, napping blissfully around your presence under Tsumiki's pink blanket.
"Yeah, we made up last night." To avoid disturbing the children, you reply in whispers.
Mei Mei hums. "I see that. I assume you two had a nice talk about it?" You open your mouth, but no words come out. The two women quirk up a brow.
"Oh? I take it that there was more than just talking." Utahime chimes in, her smile going ear to ear while your eyes avoid the screen. "No wonder we didn't see you at work today. The dick so good it saved your relationship, huh?" She laughs at you hushing her up for using crude language while the children sleep. "Well, happy you two figured it out. But don't think I won't come over there and beat his ass the next time I see you on that couch."
"I second that," Mei Mei agrees. "But Uta can do the beatdown; I'm more interested in what he has in his wallet."
"Not much, I'll tell you that." you correct your friend. "I'm the one who takes care of his finances for safe-keeping."
"Well, that makes things easier for me."
The three of you laugh through your devices. Then you hear heavy footsteps drawing closer from the stairs. "Oop, he's back now. I'll talk to you guys later!" You hurriedly wave and kiss your friends goodbye before ending the video call. The bedroom door opens, and there he is.
Toji flashes a quick smile at you before it vanishes once he sees his kids nestled around you. "I was hopin' to get some alone time with you."
You giggle as you brush Tsumik's hair away from her pretty face. "You're back early. Is your wound okay now?"
"Hmph, yeah, thanks to you pushin' me out the way and grabbin' for the first aid kit." Toji pokes fun at you for the event from last night, where you immediately pushed the brawny man off of you and ran for the tools necessary to treat his open injury the moment you saw blood. You chuckle and watch the tall man climb into bed. "Doc said it should fully heal within a week or two. Why the squirts here?"
"They were happy to find me back in the room for a nap, so they joined me and kept me company." Megumi snuggles close to you for warmth, and you pick him up to your chest.
"Well, they're takin' my spot."
"I don't think they care."
Toji pinches your nose for your snarky remark, and you wriggle out of his fingers with quiet chuckles. His hand then cups your face and pulls you to face him, his emerald eyes softly gazing into you.
"You know I love the hell outta you, right?" His deep voice sounds sweet to the ears. You purr into his hand. "And I hope you know I'm the same for you." He nods. You smile.
He hesitates for a split second, but Toji leans close to kiss your tender lips. Only for a tiny hand to come smacking him in the face, halting him from further movement. To the shock of you both, Megumi was back awake, sending a mean look at his father.
Toji groans in annoyance. "What was that for, brat?"
"For making Y/n sad." Megumi keeps his hold on you secure as he and Toji mean-mug each other. Queuing Tsumiki from her slumber, defending you from her father. "Apologize or stay away!" The little girl warns the older man.
You're quick to break up the mini-fight amongst the Fushiguros. "Alright, kids, no need to worry about me. Your dad already apologized to me by promising to take us out for dinner tonight." Childish faces beam in delight while Toji shifts to instant puzzlement. "Now go get ready and put on your shoes!" Tsumiki and Megumi do just that, rushing out of your shared room and to their own.
When you can't hear the pitter-patter of little feet anymore, you feel big strong arms haul you into Toji's embrace, attacking you with tickles. You try to squirm your way out, but it's no use when he uses his body to cage you in. "Who told you to make promises on my name, huh? You tryna be bratty with me, kid?" He grins at your ticklish suffering.
"Then don't you—Oh God, stop!" It's difficult finishing your statement while fighting back laughter and screams. "Don't you ever yell at me again!"
He stops tickling you, thank God. You catch your breath as Toji looks at you under him with a proud smile. "I don't plan on it, sweetie. Now c'mere."
Toji finally has his lips placed on your soft ones, and you happily return the favor by wrapping your arms around his neck to pepper him with delicate kisses. But the romantic atmosphere vanishes when the children come and dogpile on Toji after hearing your ticklish screams, forcing the older Fushiguro off of you to deal with his kids with tickles of their own.
Observing the children laugh and squirm under Toji's merciless fingers, a soft smile adorns your face watching the domestic display before you and thinking how lucky you are to witness such a thing. Well, that's before all three of them turn to you and bring you another ticklish horror.
And despite the torture, your screams and giggles are filled with pure joy and contentment, and you wouldn't have it any other way.
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ksnfangz · 2 years ago
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— ★ ₊˚ ARE YOU JEALOUS ?
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★ ₊˚ Request ! : “Hii! Hope you're doing good :) I wanted to request a jiung scenario (from the p1harmony request thingy heh), kind of best friends au, but you both have feelings for each other. Maybe you're close to another member and he gets jealous (?) you can decide how the rest goes! With promt #21 from the fluff list, and the scenario: "one gaming (or focusing on something) normally whilst the other styles their hair in silly little ways". Thank you so much in advance ^^”
★ ₊˚ paring: Jealous!jiung x bestfriend!reader
★ ₊˚ Genre: fluff
★ ₊˚ word count: 0.4k
★ ₊˚ A/N ; tysm for making this request and being so polite and patient i’m sorry that’s it so short!! sorry for any errors. hope you enjoy :) if you’d also like to make a request for any piwon or enhypen member the prompt list are here
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“ cut it out, I’m trying to focus.” jiung whined pushing your hands out of his hair. “ what’s your issue?”
His issue? what’s his issue? you’ve been practically ignoring him all day seemingly too occupied by the super amazing and handsome Theo.
It was torture watching you two all day, talking, laughing, glued at the hips. Jiung was two more giggles away from jumping off the nearest cliff but, he wasn’t jealous you're his best friend after all it's normal for you both to hang out with other people. Or at least that’s what he’s been trying to convince himself.
“ I don’t have an issue I’m just trying to focus on the game… if you wanna talk to someone why not go to Theo since you seemed to enjoy being with him so much.” the boy scoffed fingers gliding naturally across his keyboard as he skillfully kills another player.
“What are you talking about– Hold on, are you jealous?” you smirk pulling his head back, forcing him to look up at you.
“ What’s there to be jealous of?” Jiung replied. “ Maybe you should ask yourself that.” you say wrapping your arms around his shoulders.
He did ask himself, and each time he'd get the same answer.
“ If you’re so sad about me spending time with Theo why don’t you ask me out so we can spend time together alone.” You state boldly.
Jiung freezes, the words “ game over.” flashing red on his screen as he slowly turns around to look at you. Not even acknowledging the loss of his kill streak.
He must’ve miss heard you.
“ W-what did you say?” Jiung asks
“ I said since you’re so bothered by me hanging out with Theo you should ask me out yourself.” you repeat using the hair tie on your writs to pull the male's hair into a ponytail before carefully pulling a few strands free to frame his face. All the while Jiung stared up at you seemingly lost in thought.
“ Your hair looks cute like this,” you say almost too normally for jiungs liking. Why were you acting so normal as if you didn’t just tell the boy to ask you out on a date?
“ Y/n ?”
“ Yes.”
“ Do you want to go on a date with me?” the boy asks voice cracking slightly from how nervous he was.
“ only been waiting years for you to ask.” you reply playfully rolling your eyes.
“ oh shut up.” Jiung says shoving your shoulder his cheeks red as a tomato as he turns back to his game ready to respawn.
“ Oh wait.” he says holding his hands out for you to grab which you do watching as he guides your hands back into his hair.
“ I want pigtails now.” He says before resuming his game.
“ You are something else.”
“ yeah, but you like it.”
“ yeah… I do.”
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as always likes and reblogs are appreciated but not required thank you for reading ily <33
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