#i think she's way better than my last plush

[khywren]

😭 i finally finished her. i had to simplify her outfit a little because i'm still very new to making clothes for amigurumi, but it turned out all right. for now she can sit on my shelf next to my first astarion plush until i have the courage to try making him too.

[lxnarphase]

As a society we need to appreciate Suguru fingerfucking fem!reader as if it was nothing but an everyday task.

yes i have an indifference kink.

━━ ❝ INCOMING CALL : S. GOJO!!! ❞

☾₊‧⁺...synopsis : suguru isn't going to let a phone call interrupt his wrist work out, especially when he realizes who's calling

☾₊‧⁺...cw : suguru geto x fem!reader ft. satoru gojo, smut, fingerfucking, pre-established relationship, exhibitionism, voyeurism, dirty talk, begging, suguru and satoru being perverts, suguru is a bad influence

☾₊‧⁺...a/n : mmm iM A FREAK !!! sorry i couldnt help but throw gojo in there too for a lil extraness so i hope u like it, suguru is just a big meanie but i love it

"oh, satoru's calling."

beep.

"hey, satoru, what's up?"

he was annoying. so, so, SO annoying.

only suguru would have the fucking nerve to whine and beg for you to leave the comfort of your soft sheets on the bed on your rest day to sit on the couch next to him while he watches some game show.

only suguru would pat your thighs, muttering a little 'open up, baby' without taking his eyes off the screen, acting as if he's more into it than you.

only suguru would smirk as he slips his fingers inside your soft pussy, humming as he slowly feels you begin to soak his fingers, teasing you on how quickly you get wet for him.

and only suguru would answer his fucking phone to gojo satoru of all people while he plays with your pussy.

"ehhh? you want to come over? but you were just here this morning," suguru hums into the phone, acting as if his fingers aren't swirling circles into your clit. it's so unfair, he's so good with his hands that you aren't sure how you're gonna be able to stay quiet. satoru never knew when to shut up, especially on the phone.

"aww, but i didn't get to see pipsqueak today!"

that makes you huff, annoyance crossing your features. you were not that small! satoru and suguru were just! abnormally tall!

before you can even mutter a snide comment, suguru slips his fingers back into you, smirking when you gasp so sweetly. your gushing all over his slender fingers and he's relishing the tight heat that envelops him.

"aww, satoru," suguru fucking purrs into the phone, not missing the way satoru's teasing comments pause for a moment nor the way you shook him a look. you know that tone, you know it better than anyone.

suguru is up to no fucking good.

"you're right, you did miss her. poor thing was so tired from last night, she needed to sleep in." suguru's focus is back on the TV, voice mischievous as he picks up pace with his finger, wanting to see if he could get you to crack.

"s-sugu," you whimper, a hand coming to cover your mouth. you didn't want to get too loud, the embarrassment of satoru possibly hearing you sounding worse than death. suguru nearly groaned into the phone, feeling how you squeezed on him.

"awww, baby, thinkin' about satoru hearing you is getting you this wet? hm?"

suguru's grip on your thigh to keep you spread for him is firm, his fingers digging into your soft skin as he holds you in place. it's so unfair how he continues to multitask so effortlessly, his phone in his other hand away from his face so he can say such filthy things to you.

it's unfair because it's just making you wetter.

"it's so cute how you get so wet for me, soaking my hand just from two fingers...now shh, baby, i gotta talk to satoru," he coos at you, leaning over to press a sweet kiss to your cheek, like he's not fucking your cunt open with those slender digits of his.

without hesitation, he maneuvers his fingers deeper into the plush, wet heat of your pussy, curling them in a way that made your body arch instinctively as he brings his phone back to his ear, talking to satoru like nothing is happening.

while satoru continues to talk suguru's ear off, you are struggling so bad. it's hard to stay quiet with the way he's touching you. you don't get it, why is he still on the phone? each stroke of his stupid fingers keeps you wound up, unable to think properly, which lets to a sweet whimper leaving you before you can stop it.

"shhh, keep it down, baby," suguru whispers, leaning closer to you, his breath hot against your cheek. "we don't want satoru to hear what a naughty little slut you're being for me, would we?" he's so cruel, his words only making you shiver at the thrill of the situation. feeling you clench on his fingers, he hums curouisly. "oh..? maybe you do. you wanna have satoru hear you get your pussy played with?"

you shake your head, not wanting to deal with the endless teasing from suguru and satoru from being in this situation. but while you was keeping your mouth shut, your pussy betrays you. you're so wet, the sounds of your cunt gushing and sloshing around his fingers start to get picked up by the phone, and satoru noticed.

he could fucking hear the wet slick noises of suguru's fingers messing up your soft slit, and the sound stuns him into silence. he glups, something suguru hears and can't help but smirk about.

he's got the both of you exactly where he wants you.

after a few moments of silence, satoru clears his throat.

"i-is, uh...is she there?"

he's...he's curious, so curious to see if suguru will keep playing this game, keep pretending like he's not fucking you open with his fingers so good that he can hear it through the phone. shit, he's getting so hard from this, he feels like a fucking perv.

suguru's eyes flash with something dangerous at satoru's shaky words, his smirk turning almost evil. you want to glare at him, do something for putting you in such an embarrassing situation, but you just can't. not with how good he's making you feel and how the thought of satoru hearing you makes your walls clamp on his fingers.

suguru maintains his composure, fingers never faltering their movements in and out of your dripping cunt. "mm, i dunno, satoru, what do you think," he asks coolly, his voice a seductive blend of mockery and affection.

"suguruuu, h-he's gonna hear me," you whimper as your arm reaches out to grip his wrist, trying to stop his fingers from moving anymore. it was so messy sounding, your face was on fire. god, why did you have to get so wet from suguru being so mean?!

your breaths come in ragged gasps, hips moving instinctively against suguru's hand, unconsciously seeking more. you just can't help it, he's playing with your pussy so good, it's making your brain mushy.

the squelching sound of your slick wetness is unmistakable to satoru. on the other side of the phone, he's got his phone squished against his ear as much as possible, desperate to hear all of your noises. he's...he's hard, but he can't touch, not yet, he doesn't want any distractions from this.

"fuck, i-i can hear her, suguru...i-is she really wet?"

"mhm. she's dripping, 'toru, all over the couch."

without missing a beat, suguru moves the phone closer to you, continuing work his fingers inside your dripping slit. if you say anything, he'd just smirk at you and say he's just repositioning so his hand doesn't hurt.

but you know he's moving it closer to give satoru a better chance of hearing all your noises. and it just makes you squeeze on his fingers, your juices dripping down his wrist.

"here, angel. talk to satoru for me, yeah?"

...oh, what the hell?

your brain is already fucking melting out of your ears, you don't even think about what would happen if you take the phone. your hand trembles as you take the phone, the other hand clutching at the couch cushions for support.

the moment you bring the phone to you, you can hear satoru's excited breathing, the anticipation practically radiating through the speaker.

"h-hi, satoru..." you manage to greet him, voice breaking as suguru finds another sensitive spot within you, his free hand now pressing down on your tummy as he really starts to fuck you with his fingers.

"h-hey, sweet thing," satoru tries to purr, but it just comes out like a desperate sigh, a mix of curiosity and arousal clear in his tone. "you...you sound so pretty..."

suguru doesn't relent for a moment, his pretty fingers plunging and twisting inside you. sure, he wants you to be able to talk to satoru, but that doesn't mean you have to be incoherent. no, he wants you to be unable to hold back those moans from him.

who cares if his best friend is on the other line?

"c'mon, princess, tell him how you're feelin'," suguru whispers into your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "let him know how good 'm makin' your pretty pussy feel right now."

his voice sounds so good in your ear, your grip on the phone tightening as you try to hold onto the last shred of your composure.

"s-sugu, don't talk t' me like that, fuck, 's so embarrassing..."

he knows you don't mean it, not when he feels your gummy walls clench on him like that. you like it, you like when he's mean, when he makes you talk to him and tell him how good he's making you feel. but it feels even better because you know satoru is gonna hear how good suguru, his best friend, makes you feel with just his fingers.

the sensation of suguru's fingers, slick and sticky with your arousal, moving relentlessly inside your soft pussy and pressing against that fucking spot that makes you gush all over his hands, is making having any coherent thought nearly impossible.

"s-suguruuu, i-i can't, 'm gonna—!"

on the other end, satoru bites his lip to muffle his groan, the mental image of the scene flashing in his mind. his mind is going blank as the wet sounds of his best friend's fingers and your labored breaths and broken little moans fills his ears.

but then, they stop.

you let out the prettiest little moan and satoru feel his cock throb in his sweats, the feeling of precum leaking out making him shiver.

god, he wants to hear you like that all the time...

"s-suguru, why'd you—?"

"are you coming over or not, satoru? wouldn't you rather see her than hear her? if you come over, i'll teach you how t' make her squirt."

that seems to be all it takes to get him to keen, a high pitched and pathetic whimper coming from satoru's end of the call. who knew suguru could get the strongest to make such a sound just from a simple set of words?

"i'm on my way right now, please, don't let her cum without me there."

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[benevolentbones]

newcomer | spencer reid x fem!reader part 2

part 1

warnings: swearing, v mild dirty thoughts

word count: 1.3k

summary: your dad calls you on your day off

a/n: thank you so so much for all the support on my last few works, it means the world!! i love reading through all the comments! please if you have a fic request please let me know!!

it had been a few days since you dropped in to visit your dad at the bau, but your mind kept wandering back to the hazel eyed man you met.

you found his awkwardness quite adorable, and the way his face flushed when you spoke to him, made you smile.

you had heard a lot about the team over the years, so it was nice to put faces to names after your father had returned home that evening.

today was your day off, and you didn’t really have many plans, maybe you’d go and grab a coffee or take a walk around the park, who knows.

you stretched back against the plush sofa in your living room, flicking through the channels on your tv.

your phone began to chime, blasting out your ringtone. you picked it up on third ring, bringing it to your ear.

“hello?”

“y/n, are you at home?” your father questioned.

“yeah dad- i’m just watching tv at the moment, what’s up?” you sat up, scooting to the edge of the couch.

“can you do me a huge favour?”

you hummed in response “what is it?”

“in my home office, i left the latest case files- would you come to the bureau and drop them off?”

you chewed your bottom lip. on one hand, you didn’t really want to drive thirty minutes to and from your dads work, just to be there for less than five minutes. on the other, those five minutes could be spent talking or spencer reid.

“i’ll be there soon, dad.” you replied, hanging up the phone.

~

you practically raced to the bureau, cutting the usual thirty plus minute drive down to twenty three. a new record.

you clutched the case files to your side, making your way inside the building and making a b line for the bullpen.

morgan, garcia and reid were all sat around spencer’s desk, the younger man rambling on about the book he had just finished reading, which was a recommendation from penelope.

“honestly the plot could have been better- and i didn’t really like the-“ spencer was interrupted with a dig from morgan, whos eyes were glued to the elevator doors of the bullpen.

“why’d you do that ow.” spencer complained, rubbing the aching spot on his forearm. he turned his gaze to where both morgan and garcia were looking.

and there you stood. you had just stepped out of the elevator, you weren’t in the same office attire you had adorned the last time you visited the bau.

you were wearing a tight pair of black jeans that flared slightly at the leg, with a striped button down fitted shirt which rode up slightly, showing off part of your midriff.

“damn little gideon is mad fine.” morgan mumbled earning a quizzical look from spencer.

“little gideon- ew is that what you’re calling her?” penelope’s face contorted into one of disgust.

“i mean, you aren’t wrong..” she added, the blonde woman was practically undressing you with her eyes.

“guys come on- that’s a bit much don’t you think?” spencer mumbled, though his eyes did not once leave your form as you walked across the room towards gideon’s office.

“you’re just saying that because you like her, ain’t that right lover boy?” morgan cracked a smile, smacking spencer on the shoulder.

“shut up man..”

“do you really think gideon would want you dating his daughter?” derek mused.

“i mean anything is better than you..” spencer mumbled jokingly.

you reached your fathers office, balancing the files in one arm while using the other to knock against the oakwood door.

“come in.”

you pushed the door open, to reveal gideon leaning back in his desk chair, case files spread across the table. he had a telephone pressed in between his ear and his shoulder.

“hey dad- i brought the files you needed.” you smiled, shuffling over to his desk and plopping the bundle of papers onto his cluttered work space.

“thanks hon, you want to wait outside? i’ll be done in a few minutes and we can grab a coffee?”

you nodded, allowing gideon to continue his phone call. you backed out of his office, walking down the steps into the main section of the bullpen.

you scanned the room, your eyes landing on the three agents huddled around spencer’s desk.

you plucked up the courage and began to saunter over to them.

“hey reid look.” penelope whispered just loud enough for spencer to hear, immediately his head shot up, his gaze softening when he realised you were making your way over to him.

“good luck tiger.” morgan grinned, both he and garcia leaving the premises upon your arrival, after giving you a small smile.

“hey dr. reid right?” you mumbled once you reached his desk.

his eyes met yours, through his wire-framed glasses, and he nodded.

“yeah- you can call me spencer though- you’re y/n? gideon’s daughter?” he stumbled upon his words, rushing the sentences together.

you hummed in response, perching yourself against the genius’ desk.

“he’s told me a lot about you.”

“all good things i hope-“ spencer began, a slight nervousness to his voice.

this made you chuckle, “yes, all good things, i promise.”

“i hope you don’t mind keeping me company, i’m just waiting for dad to get off of the phone.” you eyed spencer, watching as he frantically neatened his desk.

“no-no not at all, i’m enjoying your company.” he mumbled out.

from the corner of his eye he could see morgan and garcia watching their interaction from the kitchenette, morgan had a cocky grin plastered onto his face and garcia held her thumbs up supportively.

spencer let out a breathy sigh, slumping down into his desk chair. he pondered for a moment, considering being forward. he didn’t want to come across as too needy or awkward, but if he was being honest with himself that’s exactly what he was.

he watched as you sat on the edge of his desk, happily swinging you legs back and forth, glancing around the bullpen.

fuck it.

“y/n?” spencer began, not being able to stop the crimson staining his cheeks.

“spencer.” you giggled.

“would you, i don’t know maybe like to go for dinner sometime- with..me?” you could sense the anxiety in his voice, the brunette avoiding your gaze as he fumbled with a pen on his desk.

you felt your cheeks heat up, and you reached over to place a hand on spencer’s arm. his eyes flickered up to look at you when he felt your touch.

“i would love to, let me give you my number.” you smiled happily, jumping from the desk.

you took the pen from spencer’s grasp, your fingers brushing against his causing a spark from the contact.

you picked up a pad of sticky notes and began scribbling down your number.

as you were doing so, gideon had left his office and was making his way towards the two of you.

“here, i’m free friday if you are.” you mumbled, passing him the paper and pen back.

“o-okay i’ll call you.” spencer’s eyes were now on gideon who had come to an abrupt stop, resting his hand on your shoulder.

“lets get going, kid.”

you nodded, shooting spencer a smile. “i’ll see you soon, dr. reid.”

and with that you had walked on ahead, gideon bringing his arms into a folded position in front of his chest.

spencer swallowed hard, feeling beads of sweat build up on his forehead.

“you want to take my daughter out?”

“uh yes, yes sir-“

agent gideon pondered for a moment, eyeing the younger man. he had worked with him for a few years, he trusted him to be sensible with you, and out of everyone he was probably the best pick.

“better you than morgan.” gideon shrugged, and with that comment he followed you out the door.

[puckinghischier]

Dogtooth

jack hughes x fem!reader

WARNING - SMUT!!! minors, DNI. 18+. oral!female receiving, face riding

summary: just a lil jack thot inspired by the song dogtooth by tyler, the creator

notes: this is just a repost of the little jack blurb i posted last night, i just wanted to reformat it so it’d fit in my masterlist better. but!! this is probably my favorite jack thing i’ve ever written and i’m obsessed with this song so, hope you enjoy!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼

[2.3k]

dogtooth by tyler, the creator?? that song is soooooo jack coded.

it’s the right kind of cocky but also the perfect amount of loving his woman, which is exactly how i picture jack to be in a relationship.

he’s a pretty private guy, not enjoying being in the media too much and revealing a ton about his personal life. he hates media because he doesn’t like the feeling of people assuming they know everything about him. but his girl? she knows everything about this man and he basks in the fact she knows him better than anyone else.

and when he’s down for someone? oh he’s down baddddd. i mean, pining level shit. he always wants to be around her. always calling her. always texting her. he just wants her attention 24/7, no matter what he has to do to get it.

he loves to pleasure his girl. and that’s it, really. he loves any second he can spend making her feel good, any way she wants. he doesn’t even care about the reciprocation (though he does love when she returns the favor) because knowing he’s the one to satisfy her needs is enough to put him on cloud nine all by itself.

and the second jack hears this song for the first time? oh he’s got big plans for it. (and you)

you’d be sitting on the couch, waiting on jack to get home from a mid-day skate. he sent you a text telling you he was leaving the rink around thirty minutes ago, expecting him to walk through the door any second.

no sooner than the thought entered your mind, you heard the lock click, signaling his arrival. calling out a greeting, you’re met with silence. you turn your body to see why he’s ignoring you, noticing the small white ear buds stuck in each ear.

he sets his bag down at the door, no doubt filled with his sweat soiled clothes he wants you to wash. waiting on him to look up and acknowledge you, you lay your head on the plush cushions resting against the back of the couch. you watch him, never missing an opportunity to admire how pretty he is.

finally, he looks up and meets your gaze, smiling at your love-filled eyes. he pops one headphone out while walking towards you, rolling it around in his hand.

“hey, sweets,” he leans down to place a small kiss on your waiting lips.

you savor the taste of his lips, always loving their soft feel.

“tried to say hi when you walked in, but guess you couldn’t hear me,” you gesture to the one earbud still lodged in one of his ears.

he gives you a small, apologetic look. “sorry, found a new song i really like. think you will too, actually. made me think about you.”

grabbing his phone from his pocket with his free hand, the one that’s holding the small bluetooth device brushes your hair away from your own ear, comfortably resting the earbud there.

“here’s the thing though….i want you to ride my face while we listen,” he just casually tells you, not even looking up at your face, still fiddling with his phone.

you perk up, surprised at his casualness. “i- what?”

“you heard me, before i press play i want you to ride my face.”

said face in question is dead serious, not an ounce of mischief to be found.

“you…literally just walked through the front door. what happened to asking each other about our days? or discussing what we’re gonna eat for dinner?” you ask him, not knowing how to react to the sudden proposal.

he rolls his eyes playfully. “is this your way of telling me you don’t want to? because you don’t have to. just think it’d really add to the experience, s’all” he shrugs.

you still don’t know how to react to the pure casualness of it all. by the way he’s acting you’d think he’s suggesting watching a movie, not having you ride his face in the middle of the living room.

“i didn’t say i didn’t want to. it’s just a little wild for that to be one of the first things out of your mouth when you get home.”

jack snickers at your words, walking around the large sectional to occupy the spot next to you.

“not really. not for me, at least. been thinking about it all day,” he plops down beside of you, making himself comfortable.

his words shoot excitement down to your core. he’s been thinking about it all day?

before you can think of a response, you feel shuffling next to you on the plush couch. you look over to see jack laying flat on his back, head only slightly raised to look over at you expectantly.

“so, you gonna get rid of those shorts or what?” he asks, referencing your thin, cotton pajama bottoms.

“i swear to god, if i wasn’t turned on right now i’d slap you,” you grumble, standing and removing all clothing below your waist.

jack laughs a real, out loud, laugh this time, prideful in the fact that you’ve never really been able to (or wanted to) resist any of his offers.

he burrows his body further into the couch, making sure he’s in the middle of the large surface, ensuring there’s room for your knees to rest on either side of his head.

you climb to hover over his body, looking down at his hungry eyes that are glued to your bare pussy, following every movement of your body from that landmark.

“shirt off or on?” you ask him, sitting on his toned abdomen.

“off. wanna be able to play with your boobs, please,” he flicks his eyes up to your face, an innocent smile on his own as he bats his eyelashes.

“of course you do,” you remove your (his) t-shirt from your body, now completely bare as you sit on top of him.

“swear they get bigger every time i see them,” he says in awe, bringing a hand up to massage one of your full breasts. you moan as he kneads the flesh, stomach turning flips in anticipation of what’s about to take place.

“gonna press play so we can get started or you just gonna play with my tits all night?” you huff out, loving the feeling but growing needier by the second.

it takes jack a second to register what you’re saying, too lost in the feeling of the heavy skin in his hand.

“oh! yeah, almost forgot,” he reaches up to the back of the couch where he left his phone, picking it up long enough to press play.

you scoot yourself farther up his body, resting your eager core right above his chin. all you’d have to do is relax your thighs the slightest amount to make contact with his mouth. 

suddenly you hear a smooth beat ring out in one ear, assuming jack’s hearing the same.

the second you hear the lyrics “she could ride my face i don’t want nothing in return” pour out of the earbud, jack inched his face up, licking a long, deep stripe through your folds.

you allow yourself to relax, sliding your slick pussy back and forth gently, not wanting to rush.

jack’s nose brushes your clit with every movement. you sigh at the feeling, not realizing how much you needed the friction until now.

the melody in your ear continues, but none of the lyrics are registering anymore. the feeling of jack’s tongue working through you takes every ounce of your attention.

“god, fuck! jack, best idea ever,” you moan out, picking up your pace slightly.

jack groans, letting his tongue still for a moment, allowing you to work yourself over it as you please.

fighting through the bliss radiating throughout your body, you try to focus on the lyrics at least a little bit. the chorus starts repeating, but the lyrics that follow make your head fuzzy in the best way.

“she could ride my face i don’t want nothin’ in return, except for some her time and all her love, that’s my concern” is what you focus on, the words squeezing your heart and your cunt.

jack smirks into your pussy when he hears you moan, knowing exactly which lyrics elicited the reaction from your body. you’ve always been the type to get off on the sweet nothings he whispers in your ear while he fucks into you, so he knew that line in particular would be especially helpful while his mouth is otherwise occupied.

your pace increases again as the song continues on, already halfway to your release.

jack brings his hands up to hold you still, your hole mere centimeters from his waiting tongue. he guides you to lower yourself onto the muscle, encouraging a slight bobbing motion of your body.

with every depression of your cunt onto his tongue, your clit bumps onto the tip of his nose. the pressure is a delicious form of teasing, the sensation gone nearly as soon as it’s felt each time.

“please, touch me. need you to touch me, jack. so so close,” you pant out, feeling the familiar swirl of your climax forming already.

jack grunts in response, the vibrations sending waves all throughout your body and you’re convinced you can feel it in your toes.

his hands leave your hips, traveling up your body until they find your sensitive buds, pinching and playing with each pink, taut nipple.

you jolt a bit, the motion causing your clit to slam against his nose this time. you cry out at all of the various sensations all at once. full with his tongue, rough hands on your tits, and round nose scraping against your clit.

the pure stimulation of it all forces your orgasm out of you, slamming into your body with the force of a train.

“fuck!” you scream, quickly shooting a hand out to grip the back of the couch, trying to stop yourself from collapsing on jack’s face completely.

you can barely hear the words “she can ride my face i don’t want nothin’ in return, and will i ever fall in love again? i can’t confirm,” ring through your ear, the soundtrack to your release, literally.

jack continues to work his tongue in and out of your hole while you shake and convulse above him, having to chase your entrance as you move. he continues to knead your sensitive breasts, each squeeze sending small volts through your already spent nerves.

he can feel your release dripping onto his cheeks, chin, and nose. he tries to lap up as much as he can, not wanting to miss a drop of your liquid pleasure.

your taste alone was enough to form the wet spot on his grey sweats, not embarrassed in the slightest he’s literally leaking from how turned on he is. but when he looks up at you above him, skin damp and eyes half rolled into the back of your head, mixed with the feeling of your body tightening around his tongue so harshly he can’t even pull it out, he blows his load right then and there.

he can feel the last flutters of your walls around his tongue, not stopping his movements until you pull back, having half a mind to keep going and work another orgasm out of your sensitive state. he moans through his own unprompted release, the only thing keeping him from following his sudden impulse to overstimulate you.

once the tired muscles in your thighs stop shaking, and your breath evens out, you can hear the fading of the music in your ear, signaling the end of the song. you push up slightly on your knees, detaching yourself from jack’s mouth as he chases your now swollen cunt, a small whine escaping him at the action.

“jack…the song’s over,” you manage the words somehow, in awe that he made you come in only a single song’s length.

“i can hit replay,” he rushes out, already reaching to grab his phone again.

you squeak out a slightly panicked “no,” while shaking your head, worried if he started again you might actually explode. you let yourself relax fully, scooting back so you can rest yourself on his lower abdomen once again, but the feeling of something wet stops you.

jerking back up, you turn and look down, spotting the large, wet stain on his sweatpants. you can’t stop staring at it, wondering if you’re really looking at what you think you’re looking at.

“jack…did you…” you trail off, turning back around to look at him.

he smirks as he leans himself up on his elbows. “sure did, sweets. you have no clue how much i enjoyed that.”

you laugh at his pride filled face. “pretty sure i do, seeing as i just sat on the evidence.”

he simply shrugs, patting your bare ass lightly to signal you to stand. you swing your legs over his body, standing and bending over to pick up your discarded underwear and slide it back up your legs.

“so….about that dinner conversation,” you ask him as he stands, suddenly way hungrier than you were when he first got home.

it’s his turn to laugh at you, walking over and removing the now silent earbud from your ear.

“whatever you want is fine with me. i already ate,” he gives you a kiss on the forehead then turns to walk towards the bedroom.

“oh…not even right, you dick,” you huff, following it with telling him you’re ordering his least favorite take out, a punishment for his sass.

making your way to the kitchen to dig through the different take out menus, you hear jack shout your name once again.

“i was thinking, how do you feel about that being our wedding song?” he asks, poking his now shirtless, but clean sweats clad, figure out of the bedroom door.

“jack!” you shout, scolding him as his loud cackle rings out around you, causing your own amused smile to break out on your face.

[lovelytsunoda]

beautiful girl (stay with me) | jake 'hangman' seresin

summary: the three lit jack-o-lanterns in their bay window shouldn't have been the lightscape to their sweetest, purest intimate moments, but hey, what happens on halloween stays on halloween.

pairing: jake 'hangman' seresin x girlfriend! reader

warnings: 18+ only, smut ahead! jake is a tender lover, fight god, not me, for he made the man and his mother raised him well!! sex on a couch. could be considered slightly exhibitonist but i dont really think so. two people in love wanting to make each other feel good.

author's note: i know this makes it two jake fics in one collection....but i saw this prompt and literally no drivers came to mind??? i feel real burned out with f1 right now and part of my rebrand is to establish myself as a writer for other fandoms that i enjoy, even though i know that f1 will always be my ride or die <3

as the last of the nights trick-or-treaters (this group mostly rambunctious high school students trying to make the most out of their last eligible free candy year, she guessed) descended down the interlock driveway, past jake's pickup truck and around her petite volkswagen, she began to bring the pumpkins inside, setting them down in her bay window. jake had already drawn the drapes, and was all to ready to lock the door.

they were barely able to go ten minutes along in their movie before the doorbells rang to interrupt, and while it irked them both greatly, y/n was more than happy to hand out little bars of twix and mars and kitkat to the neigbourhood children.

"they're gone." she said softly, fighting a yawn as her eyes found the little digital clock next to the flat screen television. "they stayed out later this year. weren't we finished by ten last year?"

jake rose from the couch, wrapping his beefy, warm arms around his girlfriend and holding her close, swaying softly from side to side. "they're getting smarter. when i was that age, i knew that the later i came, the better my chances of getting to run off with the whole bowl of chocolate were."

"so what i'm hearing is that you never stopped being a menace?" she laughed, lightly scratching the back of his neck with the tips of her press on nails. they were designed to look like blood dripping down her fingernails, but it had been a fight to keep them on all night.

"oh, babe, i've always been a menace." jake grinned, leaning in to kiss her softly.

call him insane, but fall always turned jake seresin into a sappy man. something about the way that the leaves changed color and his girlfriend looked cute in scarves and plaid.

"you look radiant this evening."

she raised her eyebrows. "i'm wearing beetlejuice pajama pants and a crop top with no bra, there's a zit on my chin and i only brushed my hair once today."

grinning, jake kissed her forehead before cupping her face in one of his large hands. "you always look radiant to me, y/n."

"you're such a sap"

"only for you, darlin'."

he kissed her again, broad smiles on their faces as he took her bottom lips in his, hands trailing over the fluffy material of her pants in order to sturdily grip her thighs and lift her into the air. she laughed into the kiss as he spun them around, his arms tucked behind her thighs to keep her in midair as he strode towards the couch, gently placing her down among the mountain of halloween pillows that were strewn across the furniture. a pumpkin shaped pillow from ikea found it's way behind her head, providing skull support while she stared lovingly into jake's blue-green eyes.

"i love you." he breathed, resting his forehead against hers. "happy halloween, beautiful girl."

"i love you too, jake." she giggled, pulling him in for a kiss. "happy halloween, my love."

with every kiss, she felt herself sinking further into the plush couch, jake's body gently rubbing against hers. her legs falling open, allowing the pilot to settle between her thighs. his touch was warm and comforting, and the living room had become quite the sensual environment: the dim lighting allowed the three pumpkins that were still lit to glow brightly from their place next to the bay window, and the orange fairy lights rimming the tv stand blinked calmly in the distance. the end credits of 'halloween ends' played soothingly in the background, 'don't fear the reaper' filling the space.

he nuzzled her neck, the cold tip of his nose sending shivers along her skin.

"how did i get so lucky?" he murmured, softly kissing her pulse point, one arm curling under her back and around her waist. "you are my everything."

she keened into his touch, back arching as she let out a heady moan.

"keep it coming, pretty girl. you know i love to hear it when i make you feel good."

his hands slipped underneath the waistband of her pants, strong hands tracing the outline of her festive panties.

black with orange jack-o-lanterns, if you must know.

"jake." she giggled, squirming under his touch. "baby, your hands are so cold."

jake winked at her. "i think i can fix that." he slid off the couch, striding over to the armchair by the flat screen, grabbing the tv remote from the coffee table on his way, switching the channel from the movie they had just finished to a stingray station playing soft rock. he grabbed the plush blanket from the back of the chair, stripping out of his t-shirt and moving back to the couch, footsteps heavy with purpose.

kicking off his slippers, he returned to his rightful place between his lovers legs, now bare as she dropped her velveteen pants to the hardwood floor. he unfolded the blanket pulling it around their bodies and over their shoulders.

his bare chest was warm against her clothed one, her nipples popping up underneath the ribbed fabric and standing to attention.

"better?"

"much."

"good." he spoke softly, brushing her hair out of her face before bending to kiss her again. one hand skirted over and up her thigh before deftly pushing aside the seat of her panties.

his ministrations were gentle, toying with her entrance. she giggled, squirming at the sensation when he slipped his pointer finger inside.

"atta girl. don't get shy on me, baby. i wanna see you."

there was a faint blush on her cheeks, her arms coming up to loop around his neck. her breathing was heavy as his finger darted up towards her g-spot, eliciting a small moan from the woman underneath him.

"feelin' good, sugar?"

"very." she beamed, leaning up to kiss him, hips canting towards his knuckles.

he kissed her forehead, eyes scanning her face and committing every detail to memory: the faint blush, the sweat beginning to form on her hairline. that sexy part of her lips, the steady rise and fall of her chest.

jake seresin was in love, truly madly and deeply.

"are you ready for me, princess?"

"always" she hummed, fingers brushing through his hair. "make me feel good, lieutenant."

jake smirked. "i will never ever get tired of hearing you call me that. just so you know."

"good." she beamed, leaning up to kiss him. "because i'm never going to get tired of saying it."

still kissing her softly, jake reached under the blanket, under his plaid flannel pants, pushing them down messily until they were gathered around his ankles and driving him absolutely mad with the thought that he would have to stop showering his girlfriend with love and attention in order to properly take them off (so obviously, he just decided to let them keep annoying him), so he could withdraw his aching member.

her thighs were coated in her slick juices, spilt everywhere from how messily jake had been fingering her and covering the seat of her panties. they were sticky and slick at the same time as jake pulled them down her legs, offhandedly casting them over his shoulder, where they landed on the arm of the couch with a wet thump.

he only teased her a little bit, rubbing the head of his cock over her entrance a few times before sliding in gently. her body welcomed him, fitting around him like a glove. she gasped in pleasure, arms tightening to pull him closer as her legs slid up his body and over his torso, her slightly dry toes caressing his spine as she settled in against him.

he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, mentally counting to ten. "my god, darling. you feel fucking incredible around me. this right here, this is my happy place. just you and me, skin to skin."

she laughed softly, thumb caressing his cheek. he keened under her touch, nuzzling deeper into her hand.

god, he could be such a softie sometimes.

"need a minute, tough guy?"

"i always need a minute, babe. you just feel so good that if i don't collect myself, this won't last very long."

his thrusts were slow and gentle, but deep as he filled every part of her, taking his time to make sure she felt as good as possible. he pushed her legs higher up his body, adjusting the angle in a way that rewarded him with a moan of his name.

"jake, oh god." she moaned, tugging gently on his hair. "you feel so good, baby. making me feel incredible."

"that's my sweet girl." jake smiled, kissing her neck as his hands massaged her thighs, hips still moving slowly, but with force and purpose. he could feel sweat dripping down his blonde locks of hair, falling, falling, falling to his lover's shirt, soaking into the fabric.

the plush blanket would soon feel too warm, body temperatures rising as he rocked into her. her fingernails scratched at the skin on his neck, moans exchanged into heated kisses as her hips canted upwards, trying to meet his thrusts.

"atta girl. take what you need from me, darling. that's what i'm fucking here for. to make you feel so so good." jake growled, nipping at her bottom lip. "i fucking live for it."

neither of them were quite sure how much time they spent on the couch that halloween night, baptizing it in their love. somewhere along the line, they lost the blanket, and jake was finally able to kick his pants off all the way.

and once they were certain nobody was outside and could peer in, they shifted positions, jake's back against the couch with yn perched on top of his lap like some kind of angel, her head pulled back as she whined, little ah, ah, ah's that made him feel weak in the knees while she rode him slowly, his hands placed gently on her hips to guide her.

"fuck, jake." she moaned, fingers trailing down to play with her clit. "i think i'm gonna come."

jake sat up straighter, pulling her body closer to his, pressing his naked form against hers, holding her tightly as he started to grind against her, his movements meeting hers.

"atta girl. almost there, come on baby. i've got you. jake's got you." he coaxed and cooed, doing his best to get her there.

she gasped, burying her face in his neck as she felt the feeling start to overwhelm her, the band in her stomach snapping. she moaned his name, almost falling limp in his arms as his fingers took over her movements, easing her through it to the best of his ability, feeling her release wash over his thighs. he came with a small groan and a curse, gently thrusting his hips up and allowing himself to spill inside of her.

god, he could get high off this feeling. (and it had taken them a while to get there, conversations riddled with little anxieties before she had agreed to let jake hit it raw, something he vowed never to take for granted. because her trust and her comfort meant everything to him.)

they kissed softly, a silhouette in the moonlight and the soft pumpkin glow, his thumbs gently drawing shapes on her skin. "hey pretty girl, why don't we go have a quick soak in the tub, i'll spot clean the couch, and then we curl up in bed and cuddle for a bit?"

she beamed, curling up against him. he was still technically inside her, which was slightly awkward now that his dick had softened, but he still wouldn't trade this soft moment of intimacy and love for anything.

"sounds magical."

yeah, this was definitely jake's best halloween ever.

[brailsthesmolgurl]

“I feel like I am getting fatter.”

My dear readers, I had decided to include prompts in my works as I thought this might cater to the readers of mine who prefers a shorter read. All of my prompts are my ideas (feel free to drop me any if you do have any in mind) and they will be based on my opinion of the boys :> I apologise if my writing may be offensive to some people but this is my take hence it would be nice if you could be more open-minded :,)

P.S: This fictional write is not meant to be a skinny-shaming/fat-shaming piece because I strongly believe no matter what size you are, you deserve to be loved by all! Personality triumphs over looks afterall!

Preview: An insight into what the boys think when you tell them that you feel like you’re getting plumper.

RAFAYEL

He just stares at you wildly; eyes widened, eyebrows raised to form arches, jaw opened slightly in a state of disbelief at what he had just heard coming out of your mouth. “How could you say such things to yourself?” He palmed his own face, shaking his head in suit. “You coming up to me and putting yourself down just because you think you’re chubby is ridiculous.” When he noticed that you did not say anything to rebut him, he walked closer to you, tilting your chin upwards so you may gaze into his orbs of nebulas. “You are not chubby in my eyes my love.”

“But, I just don’t like the way I look in the mirror Rafayel…” Your confidence had always been in a dip when it comes to your own body image. It especially affected you when recently, news regarding your relationship had taken a turn for criticism towards your body. You wanted to look compatible to your lover and you figured the best you could match him is if you own the body and curves of a runway model. “And, maybe, I just thought I might look better beside you if I am well…skinnier maybe?”

The man erupted a laughter, a genuine laughter of amusement when you told him that last bit of your concern. Rafayel is never the type to prey on one’s insecurity but when your determination to lose weight is based off of on pleasing his fans, he could not care less. “No my love, you do not have to lose weight just because some simpleton made some comments about your body. Come, let’s have a seat okay?” He tugged onto your wrist gently and then sat the both of you down onto the plush sofa of his. Plopping his head against the headrest, he turned his face to look at you. “Do you know back in the days, artists from ancient times prefer drawing women of flesh rather than bones?”

Seeing you hesitated to answer him, he continued on. “That is because bones equal to famine, flesh equals to well-fed my love. It is a sign of royalty. And you, I see nothing but a woman of royalty even if you do not see it yourself. The world nowadays are falling back on appreciating women with healthy bodies and I will always be here to assure you that in my eyes, you are not chubby. As you are to me, a sign of royalty which dates back to the ancient times and even till this day and age.”

Rafayel has always have a way with his words. That is the reason why you fell for him. At first, you may think satire is a part of his image, but eventually, you realised that this man spits euphemisms, and that his mockery never falls short of facts. He is very knowledgeable of the world and the way things work. “But if you still do want to lose weight, I shall do it with you as much as I hate working out. But no harm in keeping my princess fit as a fiddle if she wishes for me to join.” He blushes, eyes glanced away from yours for a moment when his mind flashed an image of you being all hot and bothered after a workout session.

“Thank you for saying that Rafayel. It really helps in calming down my nerves.” You smiled back at him, leaning your head against his shoulders and he leaned down to press a kiss to the top of your head.

“By the way, just so you know, I prefer drawing you in this ‘chubby’ state—as you would call it—because I think the curves of your body catches the sunlight beams very well and it makes you look ethereal.” Rafayel grins cheekily, fingers trailed against your jawline gently as he studied your features and allowing his imagination to run wild, already planning on his next piece of artwork featuring you, his one and only muse. This time, he shall also make it his statement piece to the haters that his love for you shall not run amok and perhaps, suggest a change in the world’s definition of beauty with his artwork.

XAVIER

“So, did anyone suggested that to you?” Xavier looked up from his plate, swallowing the piece of meat after he had finished asking his question. He had noticed recently when the both of you were on dates, you had been avoiding snacks and junk foods that you would never have resist before and that was when he decided to butt in to ask if you were on a diet and when you admitted it, the conversation was led up to this point. “Or, was it in your own head?”

“I realised it when we were doing the fitness assessment before the hunter’s task that day.” You explained, the fork pushing the pea on your plate, watching it rolled around in circles. During the assessment, everyone is required to get on the scale for a routine check and update for one’s personal records file. You remembered your confidence had started to plummet bit by bit when you noticed all the female hunters are averagely weighed below normal BMI weight.

Although no one was laughing at you as the scale announced your weight but you could almost taste the hint of embarrassment at the back of your throat as you stared at the numbers shown on the scale. You figured, a good hunter should not be overweight right? Or else how does one, being overweight, excel in physical tasks? Hence, you had decided to be harsh on yourself to lose weight for the sake of excelling in physical tasks and to fit in amongst your peers. “I am one of the few ones that probably exceeded the normal weight requirement for a hunter.”

“But you are still one of the best hunters among our division right?” Xavier was quick to catch up on one of your worries for being too overweight to complete physical tasks. “You should not worry much about your weight if you are actually pulling the weight of being a good hunter. Pun intended.” His pun made you pressed your lips tightly to form a thin line. It was funny but it was said at the wrong time.

“Then do you think I am chubby?” You raised an eyebrow and the blond man in front of you let go of his piece of meat and you watch the slice of meat slipped right into the bowl of spicy soup. This conversation is getting serious now if he is willing to overcook that piece of meat just to engage in this conversation.

“I never thought you were chubby. Other girls are just too skinny to my liking.” He placed his chopsticks aside and stared right at your face, cerulean orbs burning with underlying annoyance because of what you had said about yourself. “And I don’t think your weight affects your hunter skills as they are both separate entities by itself.” Humming to himself, his hand rubbed the base of his chin as he thought of what else to say to boost your confidence. “Speaking of which, skinnier girls do tend to end up meeting their demise faster than girls like your size.”

“What do you mean by that?” You watched as the man picks up the chopsticks and starts digging around the soup base for his missing piece of meat that is probably overcooked to his taste.

He shrugged casually. “They just look all the more fragile to me. Most of the ones that got admitted to the hospitals are the skinny ones that tends to get more broken bones and bruises even from fighting the easiest category of wanderers.” He shoved the meat into his mouth almost animation-like and started chewing. His face flashed a hint of disgust as he struggled to swallow the piece of meat down his throat. “My point is, as long as you are healthy and not easily bruised, nobody is going to care about your weight. But if they ever do, I know you can easily prove them wrong.”

Xavier is more of a motivational speaker type of boyfriend. Not because he does not want to comfort you, but he would much rather remind you of the strengths you already have and that you should not get easily discouraged by such a minute issue. Not to mention, although adorning the face of an angel, this boy here does make some pretty sarcastic remarks here and there. “Here, have some more meat, it might help you to lose weight. But it would also help you to gain more muscle which would be more helpful during combat rather than being a bag of bones.”

ZAYNE

“Just because you are sat down and you realised that you had ‘flaps’ does not make you fat y/n.” Zayne laid the tray beside you, taking a seat next to you in the hospital’s cafeteria. After the routine check-up with Zayne, it usually wraps up with you stepping onto the scale and the numbers on the scale are not showing your average weight anymore. Thus, your frown pointed towards the scale gave Zayne just enough of a hint for him to catch up on what was churning in your head. “Y/n?”

“I’m sorry, it just never came to my mind that I had gotten heavier since my last checkups.” You gnawed onto your bottom lip, fingers prancing along the material of your pants. “It does not help either when my colleagues said that I had gotten a bit bloated lately.” Sighing, you hid your face in your palms. “Not to mention, my boyfriend is a doctor, what an irony for you to date someone who isn’t physically healthy right?”

Zayne placed a box of milk in front of you, the one that you would always go for whenever you stop by his workplace. “Y/n, statistically speaking, your weight data is not considered overweight. Nor would it compromise your health in any manner. If it helps, you do not look fat to me.” The doctor glanced over to you, watching you as you only started reading the labels across the box milk instead of ripping it open to drink it like a maniac you always tend to be. “Are you planning to lose weight then?”

“I guess I am planning to. For the sake of my own health and the image of our relationship.” Zayne frowned slightly at your response but of course, being the husband material he is, he would do anything to make you healthy. Even if that means he does not necessarily agree with your standpoint.

“Wanting to be healthy would be a good start, but losing weight for the sake of our relationship’s image is not a good idea. I am glad to have someone healthy by my side.” His voice was comforting, his tone soothing to your ears. “I have another surgery scheduled in 20 minutes so I have to go now, but do not attempt to lose weight without me being around you. Do you think you can at least do me that favour?” He pushed his chair back and stood up, a hand placed on the top of your head in the form of a head pat. “I do not wish to see you jeopardising your own mental health over your weight.”

The doctor leaned down to kiss your forehead before he took the milk and placed it within your palms. His lips turned upwards into a gentle smile. “I will see you after work later.” And he went off, blending into the crowds in the crowded hallways. But it did not took long before your phone rang, and you received a call from a random number.

“Hi is this Miss y/n?” The feminine voice spoke on the other end. You agreed and introduced yourself, asking her what was the purpose of the call. “Dr.Zayne had asked me to set up an appointment with you for 3pm later so that we can go through your nutritional plan later. He told me that you wanted to lose weight don’t you?” You were nearly speechless when she said that. No wonder Zayne rushed off all of a sudden. He did not have a surgery scheduled, he only wanted to make an appointment with an in-house nutritionist to help you in losing weight. Afterall, he is not against the idea of you losing weight but he would much rather you do it in a healthy manner.

Your heart felt fuzzy when you are constantly reminded of the way Zayne would always takes care of you, even if he does not particularly look like he cares. “Yeah, that’s me. May I know what did Dr.Zayne said to you?”

“Not much, he only told me that his spouse is unhappy with her healthy body and that she would like to achieve a slimmer figure…” The girl’s voice trailed off a little, seemingly a little hesitant. “But he also told me to set up a 7 day workout plan for you so that you may get too tired of losing weight and you might just give up on it halfway.” OOF. Guess Zayne is totally fine with the way you look.

[penkura]

A Baby Sister

Note: I didn't realize it until I was writing this, but I legit gave all these men a daughter for their second child (or first or third for two of them on this). I can't believe I didn't notice, lol, I would've moved things around a little but, this is fine honestly. I tried to make it really cute and fluff, but the bonus turned a little angsty. :') The bonus is also what led to me wanting to write this. Enjoy!

Rogue is three when you and Ace have your second child, another little girl you name Ann. She’s just as tiny as her big sister was, and while Rogue has your hair, Ann looks exactly like Ace, all the way down her freckles. Ace definitely cried again when he got to hold her, hell he was crying as soon as she was born, you totally expected it though.

Rogue hated the two days she wasn’t with you, both you and Ace deciding to give her some time before you introduced her to her newborn sister, she stayed with Luffy and Sabo during the time you were in the hospital. After you’ve gone home, Ace picked her up and she refused to let him go until he got her home, when she sees you she hurries over to the couch and hugs you so tightly that you really do feel bad for having not seen her the last two days.

“Mama, I missed you!”

“I missed you too, Rogue! We’ve got a surprise for you, sweetheart.”

She brightens up hearing that, excitedly trying to ask what the surprise was while Ace brings Ann over, handing her to you before he picks up Rogue and sets her in his lap so she can see better.

“Rogue, this is your little sister, Ann.”

Rogue is beyond excited, she wants nothing more the rest of the day than to hold her sister, to the point she starts crying and Ace has to calm her down when you have to take your newborn to feed and change her. Once she has her back, Ace starts to feel a little jealous simply because he also wants to hold Ann for a while. The whole thing just makes you laugh and appreciate that you have others who want to hold her.

“At least she’s not mad about having a sister.”

Ace just pouts a bit in return. “I want to hold her too…”

~~

Law brings your son, six-year-old Rosinante, to see and meet his baby sister the day she was born. He takes him by your hospital room first, so your son can get some time with you before seeing his new little sister, even though he’s excited to meet her. He starts getting antsy and almost begging to meet her, before you finally laugh and look at Law.

“Why don’t you take him by the nursery? I’ll be fine for a bit.”

Agreeing with your suggestion, Law gives you a quick kiss on the forehead before taking Rosi’s hand and leading him down the hall to the nursery, stopping at the window and trying to find where your daughter was in the room. Once he finds her, he picks up Rosi and points where your newborn’s nursery bed is.

“See right there? That’s your sister, she’s got the bear you picked out for her.”

Rosi’s eyes light up once he sees where she is, seeing Law is correct, the little polar bear plush he’d picked out months ago was in the corner of the bed. She’s so small! He didn’t think she’d ever be so little, even after he met some of your friends babies, they were all a few months old.

“What’s her name, dad?”

“Cora. She’s got a hat on, but she has the same hair color you and I do.”

Rosi nods while Law watches him for a minute, smiling just a bit. He had been a little concerned about how your son would react when you decided to have another child, but you were able to convince him that Rosi would be a wonderful big brother, he had Law as an example, after all. Watching Rosi over the last several months, from when he grinned and hugged you when you told him you were pregnant, to when he was happy to hear he was getting a sister, you were proven right over and over again.

After watching him for a few moments, Law presses a kiss to the top of your son’s head and looks back to your daughter.

“Cora’s going to be depending on you, all right? My sister relied on me for somethings while she was little, so do your best, and your mom and I will help you both.”

“Okay, dad,” Rosi nods, before looking back to Law, “Can I hold her?”

“Yeah, of course. We’ll go back to mom’s room and get them to bring her in.”

~~

Having been an only child, Penguin wasn’t sure how your four-year-old daughter Wren was going to react to meeting her little sister, Ivy. Wren had seemed a bit concerned at the beginning of your pregnancy when you were sick, and didn’t have much of a reaction when you told her the baby was a girl. She barely had any interest in meeting Law’s newborn daughter a few weeks prior, running off to play with Rosi instead.

Once your second child was born, Penguin brought Wren to meet her, but after finally seeing her new sister, she refused to hold her, instead holding onto Penguin and hiding her face in his shoulder. After you bring Ivy home, Wren still isn’t interested in seeing her much, attaching herself to whichever one of you isn’t holding the new baby at the time.

Eventually, when Ivy is sleeping in her bassinet one day, Wren stands up on her tiptoes to watch her baby sister sleep. She’s still not sure about this, having a little sibling so suddenly, but she’s starting to think it’s okay, after watching you and Penguin with her the last few weeks. Wren reaches out and barely touches Ivy’s tiny hand, almost beaming when her baby sister grabs onto her finger.

You and Penguin had been watching Wren while she stared at Ivy, just making sure everything was all right, and it makes him smile at the same time when she starts to accept her new baby sister. When you lean into him, Penguin hugs you close and kisses your temple.

“I told you everything would be fine. She just needed some time.”

“Yeah, I know…you’re always right in the end.”

~~

Having twins was a trip already, you still don’t know how Sanji convinced you to have another child. Sora and Angel were a handful at times, but now that they were five-years-old, they could do more on their own, and Sanji used that as a reason for you to go ahead and have your next baby, which ended up happening immediately. You figured it would be a few months of trying before you got a positive test but nope, first try out the gate and here comes baby number three.

You don’t mind so much once your second daughter is born, a blonde little girl you choose to name Grace, she seems so much smaller than either of the twins were despite being born full term. She’s a perfect addition to your family though, and your twins think the same when they get to meet her.

Both are pushing the other away from the nursery bed, standing on the side facing out from your hospital bed, trying to get a good look at their sister. Angel is beyond thrilled at having a baby sister, while Sora just wants to see what she looks like.

Sanji eventually goes over and lifts up Angel, telling the two to be quiet because you were sleeping, and so was baby Grace. Angel quiets when she’s able to see her little sister better, Sora following suit as he can actually see her now. The two just watch her sleep, Sanji wonders if they’re actually happy or worried about having a new baby sibling until Angel looks at him.

“Can I hold her?”

“I wanna hold her!”

“I asked first!”

“I’m older!!”

Sighing, Sanji smiles in relief, glad your twins are excited about the new baby, until she starts to cry because they’ve disturbed her with their argument about who gets to hold her first.

~~

Keitaro has just barely turned two when you have your daughter. You never expected to have two in two, but it happened and truthfully, you weren’t upset about it when you found out you had a little girl. She’s so tiny when Zoro holds her, he's completely in love the moment he sees her. Your children were both unplanned, but you don’t think you’d change anything about how your life is going, and Zoro is the same, he's told you that multiple times.

When Keitaro properly meets her, it’s a few days after she’s born, some rule the midwives in Shimotsuki Village still follow, they wouldn’t even let Zoro be with you when you gave birth, you really had wished you were still on the Sunny this time. It’s not really a formal meeting for the two, but you think it works just fine.

Keitaro sits up on the floor by your daughter laying on a pink baby blanket that Robin had given you for her, she just somehow knew you were having a girl. Your son just stares at her for a long time, a pacifier in his mouth that doesn’t let you see what he’s really thinking. He reaches over to touch her cheek after a few minutes, a small giggle leaving his mouth when she scrunches her face and pouts in her sleep. Zoro stops him before he does it too much, placing his hand in front of your toddler’s to keep him from making her cry.

“That’s enough, you don’t want her to cry.”

Keitaro whines before pouting himself, until he squeals when Zoro lifts him up and sets him in his lap.

“Her name’s Kuina. What do you think, buddy?”

He tries to sound it out, but he’s still too little to say it correctly, the name mostly coming out as ‘Koo-na’, which makes you smile even as he starts to get frustrated and nearly cries before you gently shush him.

“Shh, it’s okay. You can just call her baby until you’re ready.”

Rubbing at his eyes, Keitaro yawns and snuggles against Zoro, part of his frustration being from needing a nap. You both watch as your children sleep quietly, glad their first meeting went well, anxious to see how the two grow up now.

~~

Your and Corazon’s first child, a baby girl, comes along just two months after you’ve taken in and formally adopted ten-year-old Trafalgar Law, when you’re both just twenty-three yourselves. Almost overnight you have two children to take care of, though Law isn’t that interested in your daughter at first. You get it, he’s still working through the sudden loss of his parents and little sister, he calls you and your husband by nicknames, not viewing you as his parents yet but that’s fine, you don’t want to rush anything with him.

It’s why you tell Corazon not to force Law to see your daughter right away, when the boy refuses to have anything to do with her and leaves your hospital room. You’re not upset at all, you know this must be hard for him. To lose and regain a family in a matter of weeks, then have a new sister so quickly as well, it’s a lot to take in at such a young age. You know he hasn’t gone too far, probably just sitting by your door, he’s just overwhelmed, you reason to Corazon, who nearly dragged Law back when he turned to leave before running out.

“He needs time, we need to give him that.”

It’s later that day, when Corazon has left to get something for him and Law to eat, that he leaves the three of you alone, finally convincing Law to at least sit in your room instead of outside the door. You have been holding your daughter for a while, noticing that Law is quietly looking over every now and then, and it makes you smile.

“You wanna come see her? It’s okay if you don’t. I won’t force you, Law.”

He doesn’t say anything, but eventually comes over, sitting beside you to get a look at your newborn while you adjust her blanket so he can see her face better. It’s hard for you to get a read on Law sometimes, he’s already good at masking his emotions, so you give him a few minutes of watching her before you say anything.

“Her name is Evangeline. What do you think?”

“…she’s small.”

“She is! She’s got her daddy’s hair too!”

“I was hoping she’d look like you.”

That makes you laugh lightly, nodding. It probably has to do with his sister having looked like his mother, you’ve seen the few pictures he has of his family. They were both lovely, Law looks just like his father. After another moment or so, you’re surprised but happy to see him reach over and let Evangeline hold his hand, the slightest smile on his face.

“Can you do me a favor, Law? Evie is my first baby, and I know you’ve had a bit of experience with your sister…can you help me and Rosinante take care of her? She’s going to need a great big brother to watch over her.”

There’s no response for a bit, but when he nods, you’re happily relieved. You were worried that he wasn’t going to accept another change so quickly, even though you knew it would likely take a long time for him to get used to this.

When Corazon comes back, he can’t fight the smile on his face to see the three of you sleeping, Evangeline still in your arms while Law is attached to your side, holding onto your arm.

Everything is going to be fine.

[goldfades]

★ PROTECTIVE MODE ─── NK¹⁰ ft. UCONN WBB MANAGER

❪ requested -> "can we have a tiny lil short story where manager barely got any sleep the night before an away game and nika gets to sit next to her and manager just fully passes tf out on her😭" ❫

─ pairing | nika muhl x fem!reader

─ warnings | nothing but fluff! usual kk and p activities, protective nika, some banter, nothing else

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my wcbb masterlist!

THE BUS RIDE was quieter than usual, everyone still exhausted from the game they had played last night.

You woke up with a pounding headache, you weren't sure why but you could barely even think. Nika had her hand on your waist as she led you carefully into the bus and sat next to you quickly, ignoring KK and Paige's protests.

"Bro, you sat next to her on the way here, it's our turn-" Paige swiftly shut her mouth when she met Nika's glare, sitting down quietly next to KK. "Okay, whatever."

"She's my girlfriend," Nika stated firmly, her tone brooking no argument as she adjusted herself in the seat, making sure you were settled comfortably beside her. Despite the throbbing in your head, her touch was soothing, and you leaned into her slightly, grateful for her support.

The other girls exchanged glances, amusement flickering in their eyes. They knew better than to challenge Nika when she was in protective mode, especially when it came to you.

You leaned into Nika's comforting presence, grateful for her steady support. The pounding headache dulled slightly as you closed your eyes, trying to block out the throbbing pain. Nika's hand remained on your waist, a silent reassurance that she was there for you, even amidst the chaos of the bus ride.

Nika smiled softly as she rubbed your arm. "You wanna sleep, my love?"

"No, aren't you tired?" You mumbled softly as you sat up.

Nika chuckled softly, her eyes warm with affection as she gazed at you. "I'm never too tired to take care of you, sweetheart."

She knew how much you sacrificed for the team, always putting others before yourself. It was just like you to worry about her exhaustion when you were the one who needed rest the most.

When you two started dating, she made her ultimate mission to be take care of you knowing how much you gave to everyone else. Nika understood the weight of your responsibilities as manager, often shouldering burdens that went usually go unnoticed by the others.

From that moment on, she became your rock, always there to support you through the long practices, the late-night strategy sessions, and the inevitable highs and lows of the basketball season. Whether it was offering a listening ear after a tough loss or simply holding you close during moments of exhaustion, Nika was unwavering in her devotion to you.

"Baby," Nika gazed at you, her eyes serious. "Lay down and relax, it's okay. I'm fine, I need to do some homework anyway," her voice was stern as a small smile began to play at the corners of her lips.

With a gentle but firm hand, she guided you back into your seat, urging you to lean back and close your eyes. You hesitated for a moment, wanting to protest, but the exhaustion weighed heavily on your shoulders, and Nika's insistence was hard to ignore.

Reluctantly, you followed her guidance, allowing yourself to sink into the plush seat and finally let your guard down. Nika smiled softly, her fingers trailing lightly over your forehead as she brushed a stray lock of hair away from your face.

"Thank you," you whispered, gratitude swelling in your chest.

Nika leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. "Anytime, my love. Now rest. I'll be right here when you wake up."

A few moments later, Nika glanced at you to see that you had fallen asleep. She smiled to herself at how fast you had passed out, her gaze filled with admiration as she watched over you with a tender affection. In the stillness of the bus, surrounded by the quiet breathing of your teammates and the soft rumble of the engine, Nika's heart swelled with love for you.

"Simp," she heard Paige whisper to her left, earning a giggle from KK.

Nika couldn't help but laugh as she shook her head, "Be quiet, you're gonna wake her up."

"No, seriously shut the fuck up, you know how she gets when someone wakes her up from nap time," Ice's voice echoed quietly from behind them.

The entire team exchanged glances before quickly falling silent. They knew all too well the consequences of disturbing your much-needed rest, especially after an exhausting game.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

say you can't sleep, m | myg

... baby, I know that's that me – espresso by sabrina carpenter

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: Snapshots of a love story centered around coffee and soft skin, heh, isn't that just so suga sweet? Mmmm, I guess so.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; fluff they're cute as fuck; smut (fem reader, fingering + f-receiving oral at work, gasp, doggy, m-receiving oral in a bedroom, whew, penetrative sex); non-idol!BTS – Yoongi's POV except final scene in your POV

--

“You don’t like coffee.”

She handed him the iced Americano with an enigmatic expression.

“But I like you.”

Then she walked away.

-

“Oh? I didn’t expect to see you here.”

He looked up from his lonesome table, fully intending to tell the person to fuck off. It was too late and too dark and too restless for him to even think about socializing. He lifted his head and found himself speechless for several seconds. An enigmatic expression paired with a tight black dress. He took another sip of his whiskey to avoid making the pause awkward.

He caught a whiff of a heavy, rich, coffee-scented perfume.

Then he shrugged.

“Can’t sleep.”

She smiled.

-

“You know her?”

She sat a few tables away, wrapped in a tight black dress. A soft white knitted cardigan draped over her shoulders. Demure with a hint of sex. He recognized those black high heels with gunmetal buckles. They had been tossed carelessly by his door last night. He watched her hands dance in the air with her conversation. The man sitting in front of her seemed mildly interested. Black t-shirt, silver bracelets, faded blue jeans. She rolled her eyes and her lunch companion looked similarly annoyed, shaking his head of straight, long black hair. The waiter went by their table, carrying the handheld kiosk.

She tapped her credit card, already prepared.

The young man whipped his hands out in a what-the-fuck motion.

She shrugged.

Her black velvet purse was tucked in her lap, right above her plush thighs that had been wrapped around his neck last night.

“Better than you do,” he replied, and didn’t elaborate.

-

“I didn’t know you knew him.”

She gave him a confused look.

“Why wouldn’t I know my younger brother?”

Oh.

She handed him the iced Americano with a sly smile.

“But I’ll let him know that you were jealous.”

Fuck.

-

“You don’t have to.”

She took his hand and wrapped it around the cold drink, leaving him with a handful of condensation and consideration.

“I want to.”

She was about to let go but his other hand shot up, enclosing the back of hers. He watched her almost hide the way her breath caught. Her eyes shifted. Those parted lips were picture perfect softness that inspired wet dreams. Her skin was even more perfect up close and in the light. A tick of her eyebrow. He didn’t back down.

“Meet me in front of the café at seven tonight.”

She didn’t hesitate.

“Okay.”

-

Date after date, she wore the same perfume and the same enigmatic smile. Night after night, he stared up at the ceiling, wondering what the fuck he was doing. Day after day, he looked forward to her occasional treat in the form of ice coffee. He admired her audacity to let everyone talk. Both of them deflected the topic when anyone asked. No sense in entertaining unsolicited opinions.

In bed, he closed his eyes and breathed in, remembering the way her soft skin smelled against him.

He was addicted to her perfume.

Then again, he already had a coffee problem so maybe it was all in his head.

-

From across the room, she smiled at him.

He acknowledged her with a nod, sticking his hands in his pockets so they wouldn’t shake.

The eye contact lingered for a moment linger before she turned and walked out the door.

After about ten minutes, he made up some excuse and left too.

-

He kissed the inside of her thigh and looked up.

Her knuckle was against her teeth, biting down lightly, calmly giving him an expression of apprehension and boldness. He cocked his head. She shrugged with one shoulder. He bunched her skirt around her waist.

And stared into her eyes as he licked upwards.

Hot, heavy, and with possessiveness.

She melted against the wall. Lashes fluttering, shivering under him, no sound. Probably because of where they were. The mischief in her eyes glimmered. Her perfect lips formed words both silent and damning.

Keep going.

To be perfectly clear he did not give a fuck about rules, but also he liked his job and didn’t want to get himself fired. Yet. He skimmed his lips over her soft skin and figured that at least it would be a cool story, letting his fingers sink into her shapely hips, toying with the hem of her panties with his thumbs. Her free hand wandered down to hold up her skirt. Helpful. He closed his eyes. Tongue, lips, teeth travelling up in a zig-zag from thigh to thigh. Her coffee-scented perfume faded as the scent of sweet sex prevailed, his index finger skimming over the heat, following the forbidden line.

Absolute silence.

But beneath his lips, her body was singing. Vibrating with pleasure. Pressing her shoulder blades against the wall, rolling her hips towards him. He opened his eyes to see hers under lidded lashes. Slid his finger under, down, the back of his nail drenched, and he pulled it aside, watching her sensual mouth form his name.

He closed his lips around the top and sank two fingers into her pussy.

Fuck, she tasted so good.

The shudder took over him before he could stop it. Delightful shivers as he watched her watch him when he cupped his tongue around her clit. Circling it gently. Coaxing. Slow and steady, admiring the way her slick walls closed in around his fingers. Thrusting deeper. He spread his knees more, wincing as he felt his hardening erection strain against even his loose jeans. She kept her hips still, melting into his momentum, looking hot as hell fully dressed with his mouth as her new accessory. He spied the curl of her pink tongue against the side of her lips. His fingers involuntarily twitched, digging his blunt nails into her thigh. Tongue against nerves. The steady climb to the heavenly high. Quiet breathing becoming labored, his cock aching at the image and taste of sweet evidence.

Her arousal dripping down his throat.

She came to his tongue, pressing the crown of her head against the wall and silently gasping to the ceiling.

No one found out.

At least, Human Resources didn’t let him know they did.

-

He spent a little more time checking out his outfit before leaving his apartment. Bomber jacket, loose shirt, slightly less torn jeans, and his nicest bag, a black leather messenger. Debated on a beanie. Decided against it and took a moment to tie his hair back into a low ponytail. The front pieces were too short to be tied back. He adjusted them in the mirror and out the door he went. Subway and then a short walk. He visited the usual spot, a café by the office, and she was already in line. The cashier seemed to have taken a liking to her, trying to keep her for a few lines of conversation. She either didn’t notice or didn’t care, courteously stepping out of line after she paid and waiting to the side for her order.

He contemplated walking up to her.

This was the first time he had been this early. He was not and never would be a morning person. A lot of the time he had to settle for the shitty coffee from the machine in the break room. He preferred an expert’s hand though, so he did his best to drag himself out of bed to get in line. Big chains had apps to order-and-go, but this was a mom-and-pop store that didn’t have the money for such technology. Honestly, now he was glad about that. A rare occurrence of the universe being on his side.

His gaze must have remained for too long because she looked up from her phone and her head turned, spotting him immediately.

He let his eyes linger when hers did.

A glimmer in her eye. Must be the morning sun. She raised her hand and beckoned him to her.

He stepped out of line and walked up to her.

“I can buy my own coffee, you know.”

The café smelled like stale morning coffee and yet somehow she smelled even better.

“Just let me do this one thing for you, hm?” she smiled.

He didn’t trust himself to respond. Instead, he stood next to her and stuck his hands in his pockets. He noticed several people looking her way but they all quickly reoriented their wandering eyes. It had to have something to do with the way her long black skirt clung to her hips or her courage of wearing a maroon faux fur cropped jacket out in public. Or maybe it was the way her tight black turtleneck clung to her chest.

“You can go on ahead. I’ll drop off the drink for you.”

He half-considered it. Maybe even take a moment to make it obvious for everyone.

Still, he didn’t want to leave.

“I’m still waking up,” he offered as his reply.

They weren’t looking at each other but he was highly aware of her presence next to him. He didn’t sense any discomfort. The café was getting packed. She scooted closer to him as a couple more people moved into the waiting section.

The barista called out her name.

She glided up to the counter. He watched her go, pit-a-pat beating in his chest. Admired every line, the way her hips swayed, the way stray rays of the sunrise made her hair glow. Watched her turn around in slow-motion mental cinema, raising her head, their eyes connecting, the corner of her lips rising when she saw him waiting for her.

She held out the iced Americano.

“Careful, someone might think we’re an item.”

He reached out and let his fingers graze her wrist.

“I think someone already does.”

He was talking about himself but he didn’t miss the pleasure in her eyes when the exchange happened.

-

She was a menace every time.

“I’m going to make sure you’ll need caffeine tomorrow,” she mused out loud.

He raised an eyebrow.

“And how are you going to do that?”

He somewhat regretted asking that.

-

The room was pitch black.

“You still up?”

The presence beside him shifted, facing him, but he wouldn’t be able to see even if he opened his eyes. He didn’t need to though. He knew the way the blanket draped over her arm, exposing the corner of her shoulder, her hair cascading over her neck covered in his invisible kisses and light bites. Her arm over her breasts as she adjusted her hand just under the pillow. The blanket dipped a bit further down the bed, then rose up sharply at her hips.

“Sorry if I seem restless,” she whispered. “I have insomnia sometimes.”

He had offered before, but she hadn’t accepted until tonight. He wasn’t sure what had made her change her mind.

“Me too,” he confessed. “I take a long time to fall asleep.”

Her voice was feathery and soft. Not pitched to act younger or be more appealing. True to who she was and where she was in her life. Her coffee-scented perfume reflected that as well. Dark and smokey and acidic. Full-bodied in every sense of the word. He heard amusement in her soothing voice as she spoke.

“That’s a very polite way of admitting that you’re nervous of the pretty girl in your bed being a closeted psychopath and smothering you in your sleep before taking all of your valuables and skipping town.”

He smiled.

“Don’t worry, I know all pretty girls are psychopaths.”

She laughed. “Won’t fall for my tricks then, hm?”

“I might if you actually tried some of yours on me.”

There was a pause in her breathing. A single flutter of butterfly wings, so slight he almost thought he imagined it.

“You think so?”

He kept telling himself he wouldn’t, but deep down he knew he would.

“Yeah,” he murmured, noncommittal.

There was a pungent silence.

Then he felt her warmth closer. Closer. Warm exhale tickling his shoulder. Her hand settled on his arm. A whirlwind of thoughts. He had always thought, oh, it would be annoying. It would be heedlessly complicated. It would die out quick. And, ultimately, it would be fleeting and unfulfilling.

Like a shooting star during a meteor shower.

“You’re something else, Min Yoongi.”

Meaningless was it was, he found himself making a wish as the weight of sleep swept him away.

-

Of course, he was scared.

Of course, he wasn’t going to acknowledge it or show it. People were fickle, complicated creatures that spent lifetimes trying to explain themselves to no avail. He was one of them. He had long ago accepted that he was part of the problem. Likewise, he accepted that he would never understand. He wasn’t about to encroach on the millennia of human philosophy and twist his brain trying to make sense of it all.

“I should leave.”

Best he could do was write some songs about it.

“Sit,” he commanded in his most inviting tone.

Better not to think about it too much.

He looked away from the stove for a moment to see the unsure shift of her eyes and the hesitation of her parted lips. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.” She lifted her gaze.

He held it, but only for a second.

Any longer would have been too telling.

He turned back to the pan and replied with, “You cannot possibly think I’m that rude to kick you out before breakfast. Sit.”

Thinking about it too much would ruin it, anyway. It would make it less true. Convoluted. Muddled by past experiences and endless doubts. He refused to let that happen. He lifted the frying pan, tipping the fried egg onto the freshly made white rice. Set the pan down. Turned around with the bowl in hand, setting it on the counter in front of the barstool next to a small plate of his mother’s kimchi. He saw her hesitate once more. Maybe it was his imagination, or was that a flush of pink at the tops of her cheeks? He pulled out a drawer and added a pair of chopsticks by the bowl. Didn’t take his eyes off her movements.

She reached out and pulled out the barstool, sliding onto the brown leather.

Bowed her head to hide her smile.

“Thanks for the food.”

Yoongi silently let out the breath he had been holding.

-

Just before she walked out his door, she leaned in and kissed him.

She drew back.

“See you.”

He stepped forward and pulled her into a longer kiss.

“See you,” he breathed, missing her already.

-

He couldn’t look at he when she smiled.

Even as the corner of his mouth lifted and his teeth sank into the side of his lower lip.

Dark, smokey, acidic.

Her perfume was so familiar now. It settled into his palette, embellishing the dreamlike image. His hands rested on her waist, fingertips drumming against soft skin. Her fingers danced up his sternum and her lips hovered by his. Breath to breath. Her other palm on his chest. Hips to hips. The moment lingered. Almost to the point of discomfort, and then she leaned in and pressed her lips to his.

He wondered if he tasted like coffee.

The kiss melted into him. Warmth rushed all over his body. He should be used to it and yet he fell back under her spell. Under her kisses over his face and neck, under her insistent touch. He dug his nails into her back. She matched him, but harder, rougher, her tongue slipping into his moaning mouth as she scratched him up. Perhaps it was a perverted satisfaction but he rather enjoyed knowing that his pale skin would be marred in pink lines of passion. He didn’t want to be precious about it.

She straddled him and pressed her panties into his erection.

He griped her waist and kissed her harder.

-

He enjoyed it when she slipped her arm in his as they walked side by side. He enjoyed watching passerby glance at them with envy, especially when her head leaned against his shoulder. He enjoyed it when she tugged him to her and caught his lips possessively. He didn’t know when he stopped hiding the smile he had when around her. He didn’t know when he stopped wanting to be alone in his free time and instead wanted to fill it with her coffee-scented perfume. He used to work late all the time because there was nothing better to do, but lately there was a better reason to ditch his responsibilities.

It was careless but such was life.

Heh.

He loved to watch her face, and yet there was something about watching her back arch and her fingers curl into the sheets. Something about his hands gripping her hips and driving himself deeper. Something about the image of her ass and thighs bouncing with each forceful smack of body-to-body contact. Just something about it. Tight, wet, hot, closing his eyes and tipping his head back, dragging his nails down her spine, feeling her match his pace. He enjoyed fucking as much as the next guy. This was simply different.

Something about her, maybe.

She threw her head back, her visceral sounds music to his ears, pleasure incarnate, and he could feel each wave threaten to drag him under, into the permanent honeymoon haze. He let it take him, gasping, surrendering, wanting it again already. She moaned with him, clutching his pillows into a jumbled mess.

Fuck, so good.

One shared look.

To be honest, he was proud of the number of used condoms that piled up.

-

“A candle?”

She lifted the heavy glass lid and inhaled. Her eyes widened, sparkling with recognition and delight.

He stated the obvious. “It’s coffee-scented.”

“I love the scent of coffee,” she murmured. He already knew that. “You remember.”

He half-smiled. “Isn’t that your excuse for always getting me one? You like the scent but you don’t drink it?” He couldn’t help but tease.

She gave him a mischievous smirk. “Trying to throw me off your scent? It won’t work.”

He sure as fuck hoped it didn’t. “I’m trying to convince you to stop buying those expensive iced Americanos for me. I’m trying to cut down for my health.”

She frowned. But he shook his head, trying to dissipate any misunderstanding.

“Don’t get me wrong. I didn’t come up with the idea. My doctor did.”

Her gaze narrowed, unconvinced.

He shoved his hands back into his pockets so they would stop shaking. There was no bag or awkward gift wrapping for him to hold on to. It wasn’t his style, but he somewhat regretted it now. He tiled his head, relaxing his face despite the thunder within his ribcage.

“What?”

She replaced the lid of the candle. Her thumb ran across the embossed characters on the paper label. Capitalism had burned a hole in his wallet. He didn’t mind though. She held it close to her chest.

“This is an expensive brand. I’ve seen it at higher end stores.”

He was delighted that she knew. The cheaper brands had smelled far too fake and far too sweet. He wanted that rich bitterness. Dark and smokey and acidic. A scent that reminded him of them. She watched him carefully. He shrugged.

“You get what you pay for.” Chuckled, raising an eyebrow slightly. “Fair, once I considered the culmination of the price of all those coffees. And, anyway, I only wanted you to know that you don’t have to pay a price for my attention. You’ve had it all this time.”

Her eyes widened a bit.

He shifted his weight, about to walk past.

At the last second, he turned his head, pausing to whisper in her ear.

“But don’t think about buying anyone else a coffee, alright?”

Before he could make his escape, her eyes were already locked onto his, her lips centimeters from his.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Min Yoongi.”

-

“What?”

She grinned. Their hands interlocked. Holding tight, even though his back was flat against her bed. Her body hovered over his. She lowered, slowly. He sucked in a breath as he felt her hard nipples brush against his chest.

“You like that?” she teased.

He stared into her eyes, melting into her mischief. “Yeah.”

She pressed her soft breasts flush against him, rubbing back and forth. He closed his eyes, shuddering, her name in his throat. His other hand migrated to her waist and he squeezed her, wanting her to know his desire. Her coffee-scented perfume stuck to his skin, bitter and sweet and addictive, a guilty pleasure he didn’t feel guilty about.

His doctor had advised him to cut back on coffee and alcohol, his other guilty pleasures, so naturally he found himself tangled up in another.

Heh.

His fingers slid up, up, tangling in her hair, pulling her face to his. There was a split second where their eye lines connected under their lashes, and he froze up. She stared back. Centimeters of trembling air between their lips. His entire body could barely contain the want and yet. It wasn’t the first time they had been this close. Far from it.

But this was the first time Yoongi realized he would move heaven and earth for those eyes.

He squeezed her hand.

She squeezed back and closed the distance between them, her eyelids falling. His too, and he realized there was sex and then there was this. This, the goosebumps that erupted over his skin when her fingertips glided down his arm. This, the chain of kisses leaving him in a daze. This, the delicate shock of her lips travelling down his chest. This, the pit-a-pat and pang of something so dirty being so pure. Her mouth enveloped him and coated his cock with a thin layer of velvety saliva. Back and forth, so soft, just right, building a lovely desperation that he savored. Tighter, and he gasped, marveling at the suffocating gentleness that made him painfully hard. Pace so steady it was nearly maddening, his fingers twisting in the sheets, and he sucked in another breath, the air saturated with her scent, hitting the apex and at the same time falling so fully that he couldn’t hide it anymore.

She kept him hard, knowing the precise amount of softness and insistence. He didn’t need to say anything. She thought about him the same way he thought about her. Her hands fanned over his hips, extending the pleasure of orgasm. His exhale a shudder. Their eyes connected again.

He beckoned her back up, breathlessly.

She obeyed. Skin to skin. His fingertips touched her chin, conducting her movement.

He could taste himself in their kiss.

“You like that?” he whispered to her lips.

She smiled against his. “Yeah.”

One torn-open condom wrapper later, and there was nothing better than her legs wrapping around his waist once he was completely inside. Shivering breath, his fingertips grazing over her collarbones, and he was well aware of his own black hair tangled over his eyes. She looked up at with admiration and satisfaction, tightening around him.

“You should come over to mine tomorrow night. Spend the weekend with me,” he found himself saying.

Her expression amused. “Wouldn’t want to get you in trouble with your landlord.”

He pushed his hair back, cleaning his vision.

“Let that be my problem.”

Her eyes sparkled.

“I’ll think about it.”

Seemed like she already had though.

Slow and tense, leaning down. Deeper. Her legs sliding up, tighter. Each breath drawn in hotter, keeping their electric eye contact, and he lifted one of his hands to wrap around her wrist. She watched him, intrigued. He thrust downwards and she squeezed him all around, meeting his pace, their eyes closing, succumbing to the honeymoon haze in harmony, their wanton sounds melding together like sugar into coffee. Harder. Rougher. Her name falling from his lips and his from hers. His grip on her wrist slipped.

Their fingers interlocked.

He kept the high coming, over and over.

-

The room was pitch black.

“Can’t sleep?”

He stretched his arm over his head. His body was still running hot.

“Don’t want to.”

She hummed. “Why’s that?”

He should sleep but that would tear him out of this dream. “Pretty girl giving me insomnia.”

“Damn. Wish I could help,” she chuckled, curling up against his side.

He hadn’t known it when she walked into his life, light glimmering off her hair and adorned with a sweet smile. Day by day, catching himself watching her walk past. He admired the confident way she held herself, the assuredness in her stride, the sharpness of her wit. Then one day, the morning after a particularly restless night, she had walked right up to him, an iced Americano in hand. She had known his preference. Could have been observation or asking around. Or both. Didn’t matter, as it was clear she took the time and noticed his lingering gaze.

“Why me?”

Her soft cheek against his shoulder.

“You know why.”

He did but he still wanted to make sure. “You weren’t scared?”

She took a moment to recall. “Worst thing you can say is no. You didn’t.”

He turned his head. She scooted up, and now they were looking at each other in the darkness. He couldn’t see shit, but he had already memorized her face in moments, in snapshots of closeness, into dreams he couldn’t help but believe in. She brought her face closer and their lips found each other with him meeting her halfway.

He pulled her closer.

Yoongi had always believed, oh, love would be annoying. Love would be heedlessly complicated. Love would die out quick and, ultimately, be fleeting and unfulfilling, like a shooting star during a meteor shower. And maybe it was all that.

But he could also be wrong.

Kiss after kiss, falling stars in the darkness, and he couldn’t help but believe in wishes.

Maybe he was just too far gone. Too under her spell to be logical anymore. Her leg slid over his hip, their bodies seamlessly against each other and her hand cradled his face, breathing in his air. Her perfume still lingered, dark and smokey and reminding him of how this love started, or perhaps it had rubbed off onto his skin in their passion. He didn’t mind. In fact, he preferred it.

“Don’t think about anyone else, alright?” she whispered.

His hand settled around her waist.

His lips touched her nose. Lightly, endearingly. Didn’t she know? She must. Maybe she wanted to hear it from his lips. He didn’t know the romantic thing to say. He was terrible at that. Always was, always would be. Then again, she had already given him the answer.

He smiled.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, darling.”

-

“Iced Americano. The largest size, please.”

The barista smiled sheepishly. “Busy day?”

You tilted your head, a stray strand of hair curling around your curved lips.

“My darling needs it.”

--

masterpost

[1920sladydectective]

Best Friend's Mother Ch.2

Hello, you find scroll to find part one earlier on this account as an ask for the lovely @shinyshayminflower or read it on AO3 with the following link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61009999/chapters/155858899

This is Part Two of Three! Enjoy my Loves!

That wasn’t the last time. Not at all. Even if sometimes, as you lay panting and dizzy in her silk sheets, you wished it was. 

Mel didn’t know, there was no way that she could and yet sometimes her gaze felt like a dozen little blades, carving your soul to bits. She still curled into you on the sofa, painted your nails, and drank wine with you. She was still your best friend. 

But you weren’t being hers. 

If you were, you wouldn’t be babbling as a strap on wrecked you, firm hands bruising your hips with each violent tug. It was maddening, face suffocated into plush pillows as Ambessa broke you again and again and again. You were her little plaything, enthralled and leaking with no idea how to stop it. 

You’d sit, inhaling cereal and fruit as Mel rambled about a new research paper whilst her mother’s eyes would trail your every movement like her exhausted, ensnared prey. 

Four weeks passed like that. Every daylight hour was spent traipsing about with Mel and Kino, beach ice creams and forest hikes, upscale bars and drunken Wii Sports matches. Night would fall, Mel would stretch and yawn and place a kiss to your head, dismissing herself. Kino would have another drink, another match, then leave you to your ‘reading’. 

You would end up in her bed within the hour. Each greeting was soft and teasing, as if she didn’t expect you. 

“Good evening,” Her eyes glimmered, naked, always fucking naked “Need something,” 

“I-”

A clicked tongue. She made you say it every single time. “I need you,”

And you did, which was the worst part. You needed her gasps, her harsh touch and special, private laugh. The warmth in you was stoked to a destructive flame, arousal all too similar to affection as she stroked back your sweaty hair. 

It was just sex. It was just sex. It was just sex. 

The candle in her room had changed. You hated the citrus scent, it made you think of days cleaning coffee shop bathrooms and you’d mentioned it one night, head burrowed in her armpit. Now, as you allowed her to devour your lips, the salty seaside hit your nose. It was considerate, it doused the flames, it stopped mattering with her tongue on your clit. 

Ambessa’s kindness increased the more you gave yourself to her, pretty words slipping into your head as she told you about her day, and asked tenderly about yours. You were her Darling, her Sweet Girl. 

The gifts started and you had no idea how to make them stop. 

It started small, almost imperceptibly so. As you rushed out the door for lunch with Mel, your cheap lip gloss snapped, lid soaring onto Ambessa's foot. She promptly chucked it in the bin, snorting at you. That night, as she nibbled at your spent neck, she pressed a lip gloss into your hand. It was simple and sweet and from Dior because of a rich idiot lady. 

“Better than Collection, Dear,” 

“How would you know?” You scoffed, “You haven’t used Collection a day in your damned life,” 

“It was Mel’s first makeup when she was ten,” 

“I hate you,” 

Her silk pillow thwacked you, giggles falling from your tired lips. 

It stepped up after that. And up. And Up. And Fuck. 

Vintage Levi jeans, “Yours looked tired, Darling,” 

A trip to the hair salon with Mel, “Let me treat you girls, nice fresh cut and colour,” 

Your laptop shat the bed and the next morning a new one was handed to you at the table. Mel and Kino didn’t even blink, “Wouldn’t want your studies to suffer, Dear. Don’t mention it,” 

Linen pyjamas in several colours, each set worth more than your nine year old phone, “Sleep is essential, therefore so is comfort,”

Speaking of which, a new fucking phone, though admittedly it did fade away into battery death. 

All of this, you could grapple with despite the pounding in your chest, the gifts worth pennies to their giver and impersonal at best. 

The real clusterfuck was each little thing that saw into your soul. A silly sandcastle making kit, after a drunken ramble about no childhood beach trips. Lobster for dinner, because whilst you loved the rolls, you’d never actually had a full one. Soft massages at the end of a rough session beneath her, firm hands turning you to melted butter in minutes. 

Half way through the seventh week, Kino returned to Uni and Mel received an invitation to a fashion event in Brighton for three days. With your tentative reassurance that you could manage, that her mother wouldn’t eat you (a bold faced lie), you somehow had the house to yourselves. 

The daylight hours became hers. 

Slow, lounging mornings where you could rest easily in her bed. No tiptoeing past Mel’s door, each creak making you nauseous. Breakfast in bed, Below Deck playing as you crunch through bacon and listen to the sounds of her humming in the shower. Ambessa stays in flowing pyjamas, floating through the space doing whatever she pleased. The luxury of staying in her bed until early afternoon is so sweet it rots your teeth. She manages to drag you to the poolside by two and you realise it is the first time you’ve seen her in a swimming costume. She’s majestic about it, of course, all rippling muscles and plush thighs. The water parts for her with ease, her hair in a tight braid as she does seemingly a full exercise in the time you acclimatise to the temperature. Once her laps were done, she slipped out of the water, hips swaying. You watched her, eyes shifting from coy to wide as the tiny fabric was discarded and she jumped back in nude. 

Her face, sin and sunshine, beamed at you with a shockingly sincere grin. That night, as you ate spaghetti straight from the pot with garlic bread for cutlery, you realised you loved her. She seemed oblivious, her mouth unable to escape the red stain of tomato sauce as she crunched through enough bread to kill a horse. Ice cream and sprinkles for dessert, curled on the loveseat in the cinema as she muttered nonsense throughout the whole film, pawing at you and eating ice cream noisily. Two hours later you had no idea what Trading Places was about and you’d cum on her face twice. 

“That was a waste of time,” You muttered, “Didn’t even watch the film,” 

Ambessa laughed, “Well, I had a wonderful time,” 

Your second day together a small, white box was left on your side of the bed, appearing after your shower. She was in her office on a work call, but patience had never been your strong suit. Bright, cascading chiffon rested in the box, your dream dress sitting calmly as if you hadn’t gazed at it every week for four years. 

For Dinner, Sweet Girl x

The note had frogs dancing in your throat. Since your complex revelation the night before, you’d searched frantically for a way to stem the flood of emotion, to cut this tryst short. Each attempt fizzled on an unsure, romantic tongue. It was only a couple of weeks anyway, a handful of time and then you could be free. So dinner, whatever it would be, was manageable. You were pulled from your distractions by a rhythmic rip, rip, rip. Mina had gotten into the wrapping paper and was asserting dominance accordingly, idiot. 

DInner, it turned out, was a Michelin star restaurant that insisted on black out dining. You’d made yourself pretty as a bloody picture and you were shrouded in darkness. It was supposedly to increase the sensation, the food speaking to you with its layered flavour profiles as your senses could focus more heavily on taste. It was nonsense, with an upcharge so astounding they made sure you couldn’t see the bill to question it. That being said, fumbling around wine and plates in the dark was fun. Ambessa’s husky voice spoke to you through the darkness, telling you stories of similar restaurants in far off places, or prompting you to ramble about your latest read. The food was good, but you privately agreed to yourself that the catering for the party had been better. Gentle, sure and slight, a familiar finger stroked against your inner thigh. Wine caught in your throat, a stuttered gurgle as you kicked out hard to get her to stop. A man’s voice cried out instead. 

“Fuck, sorry,” You said, cheeks burning. 

Ambessa’s cheeks strained under her teeth’s pressure, barely keeping a cackle at bay, “Very smooth, Dear,” 

Dinner ended rapidly after that. You were dessert after all. 

Ambessa was at least gentle about removing this dress. It was folded neatly on the side, as she wiped your mind from you. Each surface was to be christened, glistening worship at every altar as the house became yours. Her face, so full of fondness and amusement, hung like a guillotine above your head. Danger lurked, trouble brewed, and yet. 

Your little holiday ending was an odd, smarting ache. Things were the same between you and yet the difference was a physical manifestation. Mel, sweet, perfect Mel.

She had grilled you about everything in her absence, your cover story a bland tale. Books, some thesis work, a swim or two. Truth bled into the lies, your conscience desperate for small drips of relief. Trading Places is a good film, you’d said, ended up watching it with your Mum as if it was movie night. Mel had laughed, calling you a creature of habit. 

Week nine of the ten week holiday began and you were destined to leave in six days time, roadtripping back to Edinburgh. Lines had never seemed blurrier. You were reticent to leave, her words like honey coating every part of you they touched as she spoke amorously of the summer months that had slipped by. It was clear she cared, each word dripping with something you dared not call love

Another party, smaller this time, on your last full day. A barbeque with newfound friends and a few of Ambessa’s actual associates. It made you resent Mel for suggesting it, resent Ambessa for agreeing and resent yourself for placing the blame in all the wrong places.  Ambessa had chattered to you casually that morning, listing off recipes and plans, ignoring your suggestions and reheating your tea twice as you forgot about it. You laughed, picturing what it would be like when you came back here, how many new recipes she’d force you to try. How many of them she’d actually bother to cook herself.

It was nice enough, more homely than the grand party, with buckets of beers and self-serve salads. You finally beat Viktor at Chess, though the success felt stolen as he was so drunk his eyes were shut. Mel and Caitlyn were currently trying to wrestle Jayce and Vi for the music controls. It would have been fun, and yet. Ambessa was far away, another island dancing in view, promising a greatness that was out of reach. The heated glaces were few and far between, the touches brief and the smiles standard as a necessity. You ached to lose her, it would be so long before you saw each other again. That was the sentimentality talking, you begged it to shut up with a wagyu burger. 

Mel, drunk and happy, wanted a girly sleepover for the last night in the house. It crushed your heart twofold. You would miss time with Ambessa, you were the worst person perhaps ever for thinking of that first. Still, with a heavy heart, you giggled in her four poster bed with a bottle of white wine and green, slimy face masks. 

Neon numbers showed it was four am and Mel Medarda was sleeping like a log. Carefully, each cell tensing with strain, you extracted yourself from the room and slipped down the hallway. 

She was there, as you knew she would be even after her distance at the party. Her face was warm, soft and hazy as the weight of the moment settled. You started the dance, practiced and smooth now, but she took a new step. 

“I need you,” It was half choked, your body crushed as she took you into the room, kisses thundering all over your skin. 

It was bliss, a gentle lovemaking she had never permitted before, with trembling hands and docile eyes. Nothing mattered outside this room, outside the rocking and the groaning, her lips kissing your ear with each back and forth movement. It soothed a part of you, so desperate for her care and attention. 

Once full of each other, you allowed yourself the indignity of clinging to her. She traced shapes along your stomach, reminding you that you were her special girl, so perfect and warm, so delicious. You felt almost delirious, trading heavy kisses for romantic words. You loved her and maybe she was showing you that was okay.

Morning came and with it the end of your perfect summer. 

Breakfast was served and eaten slowly, the Land Rover piled high with Mel’s opulence and admittedly now some of your own, courtesy of Ambessa’s constant material kindness. Mel seemed reluctant to leave too, her whispered confessions that this was the calmest time she’d ever had with her mother echoing in your head. Rictus returned, as if like clockwork to service Ambessa as you left, lest she be left to her own devices. 

He walked away to his chambers to unpack and the list of things for the journey back to Uni was consulted. Once. Twice. A short trip up to my room and we’re ready, your friend assured. 

Time slowed as Mel ran to grab the last of her things, leaving the two of you alone in the kitchen. 

“Well,” You chuckled nervously. 

“It was so good to have you, Dear,” Her voice sounded wrong, the warmth fleeting as you tried to chase it. Where had your Ambessa gone?

“Yes, um Thank you,” You said, shoved onto the wrong foot, affection flickering, “I have your number so I’ll ring you when I’m back,” 

As her face dropped, your heart did, “Whyever would you need to do that?” 

Oh Gods. Her pampering, each trinket and trophy you wore and used, each shared dinner and tender laugh pushed you into a foolish forgetting. No amount of love making and promises of devotion had changed her initial terms. 

You were a toy, remember?

“I-I don’t know,” You stammered, “Just in case,” 

“Just in case,” Words lined with pity, her golden gaze condescending. Oh darling, it teased, you didn’t fall in love did you?

Your Ambessa was gone. A figment of imagination, fuelled by summer sun. Part of you hoped she used to be nice, used to be yours and that this was a fearful change of heart. 

A patronising pat to the cheek, words you didn’t hear as you faded into the background. 

Down the Guillotine slammed.

[bones4thecats]

Hello, you can, Tfa Starscream x Conjux femme reader, where Starscream's clones are in love with the reader 💙❤️

➸ Clones v. Starscream; Trans. Animated

Character: Starscream and his Clones (Transformers Animated) A/N: This was actually one of my favorite things I've written for the Transformers Franchise. I hope you enjoy it as well, 💙❤️Anon! Disclaimer(s): Nothing, except maybe poly relationships? I'm not sure, didn't get that deep into it.

Star - 💫 / Slip - 💐 / Ram - 🪶 / Sky - 😱 / Thunder - 🌩️ / Sun - 🌦️

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Starscream Clones v. Starscream ══════════════╝

💫 Starscream landed, transforming back into his bi-pedal mode. He was not very amused. Those Primus-forsaken Autobots managed to stop him from gaining another object for his plans! How annoying!

💫 As he walked around the run-down ship that was once the Nemesis, Starscream could hear the voice of his conjunx coming from a couple hallways down. But his conjunx's voice wasn't the only one he heard, he also heard his clones' voices

💫 Speeding up his pace to almost a full-out sprint, the seeker stopped in front of a doorway. There you stood, speaking to Slipstream while Skywarp held onto you from behind. He was acting as if you were his personal plush

💫 Starscream's anger was now soaring. How dare these knockoffs of him start getting along with his conjunx! You were his, not theirs! He's been with you for hundreds of thousands of years, they had only been with you for a couple Earthly months at most!

💫 Hearing a scoff from the entry-way, you turned and saw your conjunx, Starscream, standing there. He was leaning against the doorway with a sour expression on his face. You chuckled and motioned for Skywarp to let you go, which he did

💫 You walked up to Starscream, wrapped your arms around his midsection, and hugged him. Your grasp was better than almost any Cybertronians, especially a femmes. Starscream smiled smugly and hugged you back, glaring at the Clones behind you, you being completely oblivious to the action

"How was your mission on Earth?" You asked.

"I bet he failed." Slipstream voiced.

"Starscream? Fail? That's nonsense." Ramjet said, making Starscream narrow his optics and bawl his servos into fists.

"I recommend you shut your intakes, Clones."

"Exactly. Starscream is one of the best Decepticons ever created. Even better than that bucket-head Megatron." Sunstorm praised.

"Thank you, Sunstorm." Starscream said.

💫 You looked as Slipstream rolled her optics and walked off, her metal hips swaying as she did so. While many mechs would watch, you preferred the sight of the original Starscream's hips moving as he walked around

"Oh please. I am obviously the superior Starscream. You're all mere pieces of scrap compared to my genius." Thundercracker boasted.

"Exactly. And you totally didn't fail your last mission against the Autobot Repair Team."

"Why you-"

"Enough, you two. I think you guys need some time to recharge. Go to your chambers and relax," you added, "and don't bother trying to flatter me out of it. Sunstorm."

💫 Sunstorm shrugged and walked off, the others following suite. You then looked at Starscream and chuckled, hugging him once more as he picked you up and walked to look out of one of the many huge windows that surrounded the now-destroyed war ship that you lived on for many years

"You know, sometimes I think that you like those Clones more than me." Starscream teased, a smirk ever so present on his face.

"More than my original sparkmate? Not possible."

💫 Starscream laughed lightly as you leaned forward and leaned your forehead against his. You could feel the bit of the Allspark in his helm pulsing with his own spark as you gave him affection. While many called him sparkless and a monster, you knew the real Starscream. And he could feel love. And right now was extreme proof of that claim

[taeintedlove]

Kiss it Off

toji smut featuring. . .

NSFW! 18+ -> makeup s*x, squi*ing, overst*mulation, piv s*x, very soft dom toji, oral, etc.

- intended lowercase because i work on fics on my phone and switch between that and a laptop. keeping it lowercase helps me in terms of writing tysm!

- word count 1k+

laughter and bustle filled the air of the lavish galleria event. a watercolor sunset casted a midnight purple with faint traces of orange across the horizon. emerald eyes cannot help but stare at you- your flared sleeve, burgundy dress that reaches the tops of your knees, a slit that teases a glimpse of thighs, and has a deep dip that exposes the plush of your cleavage. but you’re ‘modest…’ and you have a sheer wrap that makes him have ideas he’d love to explore with you in the restroom. you wear black heels to match the tint of his hair…he loves how you look in them.

especially on this special occasion - a luxurious after party for the successful deal of Aven Corp., owned by toji fushiguro- a multi millionaire that stakes his claim in multiple "investments" that dominate the coast.

now, toji partook in the talking and drinking flutes of champagne and other fancy liquor with some of his more prestigious partners, their plus ones and invited guest.

among the bustle of the evening you come to find that with the glamour, he seems to be unaware that he’s "naturally" flirtatious and becoming quite familiar with the other women around the large polished table- and bar. you’ve been on his arm all night, but it no wonder they’re magnetized to him. and with his charisma, he’s entertaining them.

while you should feel at ease - like his drunken colleagues - he’s a player. always has been and becomes more apparent when he’s tipsy and at the top of the world…but could you blame him?

he’s been stressing through the last few months and finally the business deal pulled through. you want him to relax and let loose, though your heart drops at the disrespect you feel is happening.

you pout at the audacity…toji can be a cocky man. he’s humble by nature but is greedy, and wants all that he can possibly get.

his ego isn’t going to ruin your night with him, a hot shower at the flat sounds better than staying for this event and the after party…

you stubbly touch along the taught muscle of his thigh underneath his burgundy dress pants, wanting his attention. mystic green eyes glance at you with a raised brow. wondering why you would tease while he is attentively talking with colleagues. he puts his hand up to tell them ‘a moment’ and turns to you.

“yes doll?” he directs the swivel of the exhale of heavy cigar smoke away from your face. you almost roll your eyes at his blatant ignorance of the way he’s acting.

“i-“ your plead to leave was interrupted by a woman with hazel eyes, filled with lust, and the intent to talk to your man.

“i cannot believe aven corp. has expanded, it’s so big, as your partner, I’ve been thinking we should plan the future of our companies,” she flashes her million-dollar 'camera' smile and completely ignores your presence.

“oh most definitely, Sae. such a smart woman,” he chuckles with a wink and she blushes as toji passionately and professionally continues, “our projections foresee the next stages of our…” you’re so pissed off to the point where you phase out whatever 'business talk' they were speaking about, as this was the last time that you allowed him to hurt you like this tonight.

the sound of toji calling your name brought you out of your mood for a moment.

“what did you need hm?” he gently speaks to you and brings his arm around your waist.

pulling away from him faster than you meant to, you blurt to him, “i’m going to the restroom.” gold twinkled from the chandelier into your eyes and reflected the sullen, suffocating look you gave him. toji’s gut was telling him something was off as he watched your silhouette until he could no longer see you along the ocean of people.

he shrugs, knowing you’d be back. so he waits.

and he waits…

and waits...

every time he tries to make conversation with the nobodies at his table, your face flashed in his eyes- he hated seeing you looking at him the way you did.

though after more than several intolerable minutes without your return and the inkling of you being in discomfort, toji had to come find you.

swiftly, he excuses himself from the table.

through the futuristic corridors that were dark as midnight and had golden specks that resembled stars twinkling. long strides head towards a tucked away women’s restroom on the far east wing near a valet exit, he hopes this was one you chose.

as soon as he was going to pop his head into the restroom to call for you, your beautiful meek figure emerged from the heavy door. he notices the way your hands tightly clench onto your slim chic clutch bag.

he hesitates before speaking, feeling waves of passive anger roll off you. your energy is off putting- toji never misses anything.

"...you were gone for a while angel, you okay?" he decides to tread carefully. as much as you want to scoff at him, walk away and find a ride home like you decided in the bathroom, the sharp venom toji had placed in your heart at his actions, beseech you to seethe out.

"i'm m'kay, are you okay?" being sarcastic, you bat your eyes and speak coquettishly- observing his brows crinkle in confusion and his pouty lips open to question you.

"...of course why wouldn't i be?"

"oh my! i thought by the way you've been shamelessly eyefucking those consorts and fueling their fantasies that you had to have bumped your fucking head!" your voice rises above a harsh whisper, although it did not matter- partygoers we're nowhere to be seen.

it's always been hard to tell how toji's feeling, as he never fails to hide the mix of emotions on his face. but now, confusion and anger have overtaken his features. a clenched jaw and narrowed eyes examine you then it quickly turns into a incredulous humourless laugh.

"babe, you cannot be serious," he reaches to grab your arm but you snatch it away from his grasp with the look of a wounded fawn.

"you have to be blind not to notice toji, i'm done. i'm going home while you entertain yourself." you immediately stepped to leave, definitively deciding to grab a cab. strong hands grab your upper arms to stop you. gasping, toji pushes you against the wall. he's staring down at you in a way you've never seen before. it's cold, icy, and he looked hurt- he tries to hide it but you can tell in the crinkle of his eyes. he paused and you froze.

"...angel, don't leave. i wasn't-" toji wavers.

"y-you were." you meekly state, he begins to loosen his grip but doesn't let you go.

"...i want to go home. let me go toji-" mystic green eyes sharpen as he presses his strong body against you. he's contemplating. the silence is deafening and his grip has yet to cease.

you're his.

"no." he gruffs out.

"no?" you parrot in disbelief, with a pout toji cannot help but want to taste. so he does.

you squeak as toji kisses into you mouth slowly waiting for you to kiss him back.

he felt so good...so warm...his body completely flush against yours, so much so you melt. you accept his kiss and taste the blend of his favorite on his tongue. toji lets go of your arms in favor of caressing you with his large palms, over the smooth skin of your thighs, to reveal more of you by hiking up the silky red dress. his fingers ghost across the flimsy material of your cute lace panties- toji has been wishing he could move out the way all night. toji pauses when you whine and push on his chest.

its you remembering how he made you feel earlier, every overly flirtatious act created a painful pang in your heart so much so that it overruled your lust for him in this moment.

he was trying to distract you.

"n-no toji, i wanna go home." you whisper against his lips. you bite on your lip and stare at his confused expression and it breaks your heart even more.

you push him off, which you knew he allowed you to do, finally understanding you were upset.

he calls after you but you don't turn around.

toji stalks you to make sure you get into a cab by the valet exit and rubs a palm across his face. he feels a strange feeling in his heart that this argument wasn't unprecedented. he would never compromise your trust in him, but upon your reaction he does began to...recall earlier actions he could've withheld. but he cannot help it. he doesn't mean to, but if it helps strengthen a relationship with his business partner that benefits him, which ultimately benefits you! so he cannot believe his baby is acting like this. but the more he thinks about how sullen you looked earlier maybe he took it too far...

-

you're in the shower when you burst into tears.

he's such an entitled asshole who thinks that he can just flirt with other women like that, and in front of you! you're driven to your thoughts under the hot water.

both of you have been together for 4 years and yet toji never really engaged with women to where you thought he was flirting. at first, the way he allowed the them to bat their eyelashes at him bothered you. though then, he wasn't acting borderline promiscuous. he was reserved.

when you brought it up to him he blinked a few times and waved you off, claiming he wasn't flirting, he's 'pushing a deal'. toji held your cheeks in his hands and whispered that he 'only loves you'.

of course he's charismatic and you love that about him. but whether it was the whiskey in in blood or the huge boost in ego at his latest conquest, he still shouldn't wink and flirt with other women.

throughout Bali, Cape Town, Los Angeles- you turned an eye to how he carried himself at after parties. though tonite was the first time he’d eye them so brazenly. how could he do this in your presence- to your face?

does he think that he’s absolved from your wrathful heart!...

no- you pause as the hot steam cleanses away the resentment. you cannot lash out at your love, and you’re too tired to formulate the emotions that arise when you dwell on it.

with a final soak, you decide to see what his next moves are. as that’s all of you left to offer.

you shut off the water and did your nightly self-care routine to at least pamper yourself at the turn of the nights events.

you opt to wear a ice colored gown inserts of your usual choice of toji’s tees-his scent right now would overwhelm you.

moisturizing, you dim the hanging lights above the large california king bed, and snuggle into the covers and that’s when you realize, you cannot escape him- his musk permeates in the sheets.

…

the sound of the front door closing resonates throughout the condo waking you from your slumber. you found it hard to sleep without his warmth and as a result, slept lightly. glancing at the alexa on he nightstand, you read, '2:20 a.m'. quickly, you sink deeper into your espresso bean coloured duvet, eyes threatening to water again. its been 3 hours since you've left the gala.

"doll...?" he whispers guiltily, and you subconsciously melt at his voice. you don't contemplate answering him fearing that your voice would break.

the sounds of his movements are almost noiseless to your ears, but they draw nearer.

he flips on the soft lights above the bed on, piercing eyes inspect your form.

"i'm sorry m'kay?" he apologizes sincerely, "i was being an shitty boyfriend, shitty partner- i don't care about them. i never flirt with the intent to be with them i-it just comes out. shit," he says your name and you hear the crack in his voice, "i'm really sorry. i could barely stay after you left, i had to finish the speech...and i left right after."

toji doesn't expect you to respond and thinks you are actually asleep. he smacks his lips and curses himself for ignoring you tonight when you obviously needed him, when you accompanied him to all of the insufferable gala's and parties, it was more than he could ever dream of- sharing his life and pleasures with you.

partially underneath the covers, you're gnawing at the plush bottom of your lip, biting back the weakness in your heart.

he still flirted with them...and his apology was heartfelt...but toji is a hardheaded, stubborn man.

he does what he wants, repairs the damages, and dismays your qualms.

you hear him shuffle away, opening the doors of the dresser until they descend towards the master bathroom.

'click'

hearing the bathroom door shut and hear the shower running, you frown. the anger you feel has worn off and been replaced with resentment for his actions. he crossed a line tonight. has he done this at the international gala's he attended without you?

the thought unsettles you enough to bring a few tears back to your puffy eyes, and you're struggling to breathe again…

you hope that whenever toji comes back he won't notice your sniffles. a unfamiliar feeling lurks now, the thought of him wrapping you in his arms as he attempts to console you makes you feel dreadful as its the same arms he probably envelops other women with...

you tuck yourself under the duvet and attempt to push thoughts of him to the back of your mind.

...or at least you try to. you didn't realize the shower turned off moments ago.

then, the covers are pulled off your warm body, although it was careful, you turn to meet moss colored orbs that gaze at you so intently.

"I knew you were awake... babe - "

ugh! he's unbelievable. you burst from the heavy blanket, attempting to dart out of the room before he tries to explain.

before you can even reach the doorframe he has his grip on your arms,

"fuck off toji. i am not talking right now." you nearly yell, "i’m tired - please... i don't want to deal with this again…with your habits. i want to rest. we can talk in the morning."

"no, i need you to know that-" he pauses because he's still having to hold your struggling form still, "i never meant to hurt you."

"but you did, you did..." you yell with tears welting in your eyes. toji's heart wrenches at the sight.

"i did hurt you, i know baby. i am so sorry. i never realized how...my tactics are inappropriate." he confesses and hugs you tenderly. large burly damp arms envelope your weeping, smaller frame.

he's licking your every wound- repeating that he's sorry, that he won't hurt you like that ever again. he rubs your back and waits for you to calm down before asking you if he could carry you back to the bed, to which you nodded.

your tummy jumps at how easily he lifts you, instinctively holding onto his button down, arm around his neck.

*poof*

he plops you on the soft duvet and hovers above you.

"i love you..." scarred lips lay a kiss on your forehead, trailing to your cheeks, another to your left ear, then the right. "...so much." his lips slowly descend to your soft, quivering pout. his gentle pecks test your waters.

he pauses for a moment and you whisper, "...do you really?" he senses your vulnerability and molds his half clothed body into yours, his warmth radiating and melding with yours. you're avoiding his gaze and your hands are lightly place on his chest, guarded.

he's hurt that you're questioning his feelings for you, but he knows he has to make up for it- having betrayed your trust.

"i will always love you. 'though i fucked up tonight...and other times." he lowers his voice, "i will prove it to you baby, can I apologize for my behavior?" his voice is soft and consuming.

"...are you drunk saying this?" you narrow your eyes, wanting to trust what he's saying.

"no baby, i'm not. i am never going to do this again." and for a long moment he stares into your eyes, forest green irises reflect shame and regret.

"...promise?" you hold out your pinky to which he immediately wraps his around it.

"promise." he firmly says, and toji's letting out a breath he did not know he was holding.

toji's strong hands gingerly grasp your hands and slowly moves them to his shoulders, calculating your feelings.

now, he notices your eyes and posture softening. toji takes this as an invitation to show you just how sorry he is.

you grip his shoulders as he starts kissing down you neck, soft tongue licking then nipping gently at the tender skin. sucking to leave beautiful warm behind each bite.

you sigh as he massages the curve of your hips as he comes up to leave another bite. rugged hands trace the edge of your gown, lifting it above your head. he loves the fact you have the cutest panties on, only because when he goes to remove them, he's able to rip it to shreads, earning a gasp from you.

giggling you chime, "you're such a brute."

"it's blocking me from this pretty pussy," he slides the tattered fabric off, "it's got to go, doll."

with a shuddering breath, you let toji caress your fluffy breasts as he engages in a sloppy smooch. letting his warm, tongue dominate you completely. softly, you moan into the intense kiss as he pinches and pulls your perky nipples.

"toji, i need..." you whine as you feel the increasing wetness dampening your upper thighs from his grip on your breasts.

"yes doll? you need me here?" he pauses his maddening flurry of kisses to swipe his fingers along your slick, rubbing your clit a few times just to hear the saccharine whimpers that escape from the stimulation. he taps firmly on your bud with force, and it leave your legs trembling.

"mhm yes, yes- there toji." and as soon as the whisper leaves your lips, he lowers his body to be flush against the bed, opening your gorgeous legs wider.

the softness of his lips as he kisses all up your thighs is comforting, and you shiver as he licks closer and closer to your flower.

a breathy sigh emits from your chest once he finally plants the fattest glob of spit on your cunt, and slurps everything up.

flicks and long, long strides of his tongue massage your puckered clit slowly drawing the most delectable sounds from your throat. the firm grip on your thighs tether you to him.

toji thinks the way you sound akin to a bird singing. as you sink your fingers into his hair from his sucking on the nub, the pitch of your voice heightens and increases. toji groans into your warmth as you pull on his noir locks.

his tongue dips down further in the honey that oozes, your breath shakes which each dip and drawn out flick.

" -aah, i'm super close t-toji." you whine as he fickers faster at your throbbing nub, humming into you.

he finds your sensitivity so endearing, his left hand extending to reach your breast, has you teetering closer to the edge.

"ooh, toji, toji, toji..." you chant and feel the white lightning throughout your spine and the warm numb overcome your being.

he retreats to holding your trembling form down so he can get each movement of his mouth to be consistent and to caress you just right.

your subtle gasps and moans have toji leaking copious amount of pre. staining his grey sweats. toji wipes the lower half of his face with his palm, licking the skin right after.

your fluttering gaze has the gruff man lowering his pants and stroking his shaft as he hovers over you again.

"can i continue princess?" he pauses and watches your dreamy gaze softening.

"please continue..." you breathe. not a moment wastes as he leans in for another filthy kiss, pushing your legs apart again to wrap around his waist.

toji breaks your feverent movement of love, " 'm so sorry for earlier doll...i never meant to hurt you."

to which you reply with a coquettish smile, " 'tis okay, toji, i forgive you."

he smiles pleasantly and rubs your sides, " 'm so fucking cute." toji shudders as he begins to rub the tip of his dick along your sensitive bud. pre weeping profusely from the strawberry colored slit. you sigh with each swipe, rubbing his cock all along your wetness.

then he slips an inch inside of the warm, fluffy tightness. groaning hoarsely, he moves up to cage you in. sliding in inch by inch, muttering a sting of curses from how you were delectably scratching his toned back, he breathes into the juncture of your neck.

"fuck t-toji..." you moan with a shiver.

"i know b-baby quite the...the stretch. 'm gonna make ya feel good doll. just - fuck- relax..." he pulls back to watch you go limp with a couple gentle thrusts. he's splitting you open and you gush around his length.

"you...y-you -ah, ah- always do." you whimper as he's already hitting that spot with the sheer girth and delicious length.

he then starts the deepen his hips, and hammer into harder, increasing his pace slightly. toji growls and puffs out hair, trying to hold out, but god, you're so fucking soft and warm around him, wringing and milking his dick.

"toji, toji! right t-there..." you shakily stutter out, gripping onto his biceps, then reaching around his neck. sweat drips from his forehead and chest as he pounds heavily into the sopping mess between you.

"fuck, so perfect. you're made 'f me huh? t-taking me so well like 'ta angel 'ya are..." he punctuated the last few wards with power thrusts, then pauses. it feels like the coil within is about th burst as you feel all of him at once. full to the brim.

" 'ha, 'mm gonna cum toji. fuck, fuck..." you whine as his dick kisses your cervix with his grinding thrusts.

"fuckin' make a mess on me, let it go." he urges and feverently pulls at and caresses your breast. and on cue, his deep timbre has you gushing and squirting all over his cock and abdomen.

the force almost pushes his shaft out but he was grinding you through the last few waves of your orgasm.

swiftly, he brings your legs to his shoulders, "i know you got one more in 'ya angel..."

you moan at the stretch in your legs- "mhm toji!" all you can think about is him, feeling him plug you full and it feels so safe.

he's fucking into you recklessly now, overstimulating himself as well. his fingers come ro dance on your clit, rubbing fast circles. you're pawing at his back, chest, and tugging on his hair at each swipe and thick movement of his dick filling you up.

"t-thats it! that's it, baby." he coos and groans at the sight of your eyes fluttering and agape pout.

the rush of the orgasm comes quick, and you squirt again, whole body warming and trembling as he pounds into you over and over. toji cannot hold back this time and cums right after with stuttering hips. ropes of succulent essence flood your sweet cavern, oozing around his cock as he slowly comes to a halt.

you both moan in unison as he stills, still plugging everything in snug.

"so...how...how was that apology?" toji ponders in the comfortable afterglow. a cheeky smile crosses his features.

you snort and giggle, then moan as he shifts slightly, "s-shuddup ol' man."

[redroomreflections]

II HANDS II HEAVEN 6

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha Romanoff and Reader reluctantly team up for a couples retreat mission. Despite initial resistance, they find themselves drawn together by unexpected circumstances and shared experiences.

W/c:4k

Notes: I listened to Beyonce's album and wanted to write something to this song

Summary: Natasha Romanoff and Reader reluctantly team up for a couples retreat mission. Despite initial resistance, they find themselves drawn together by unexpected circumstances and shared experiences.

Masterlist | General Masterlist

w/c: 4.5k

last part

Walking back into the hotel room, the atmosphere shifted noticeably. It was clear Natasha had been somewhat irritated since your departure from the pool area. After a few drinks, you could feel the effects setting in, and you had spent the past few hours playing the role of the devoted, albeit overly enthusiastic, spouse. Add to that the fatigue from earlier road-tripping, and all you wanted now was to fall into bed.

You bypassed changing clothes or freshening up, collapsing into the plush decorative chair directly across from the bed. Stretching out your legs, you nestled the styrofoam container brimming with chicken wings in your lap before eagerly digging in. Eyes closed, you hummed in contentment, savoring the delightful blend of honey barbecue that teased your taste buds.

Meanwhile, Natasha moved about the room with abrupt, almost exaggerated movements, clearly too irritated to engage in conversation. Her actions spoke volumes as she pulled her hair into a tight bun, signaling her need to unpack and decompress.

With a half-lidded gaze, you paused your chicken wing feast to address Natasha. "You know, I think I'd like you to have a nickname for me," you suggested.

"Why bother?" Natasha muttered under her breath, her frustration evident in her tone as she continued with her task, seemingly unwilling to entertain the idea.

With a casual wave of a chicken wing, you made your case. "It shows you love me, that you care for me, that you actually don't hate being around me," you explained, emphasizing your point with a playful gesture. As a droplet of barbecue sauce threatened the fabric of the chair, you skillfully intercepted it, sucking the sauce from your finger with a satisfied hum. Food always tasted much better when under the influence.

“It’s not like this relationship is real.” Natasha raised a brow.

“Okay, rude,” You paused mid-bite, considering Natasha's words for a moment before responding. "Maybe not in the traditional sense," you admitted, your voice softening as you met her gaze. "But that doesn't mean it's not meaningful in its own way. We've shared so much together, haven't we?"

“In what the last two days together? All I know about you is your favorite position and I don’t see how that is helpful,” Natasha shrugged. She was so over this conversation. She stuffed the last of her things into a drawer and turned to you.

With a playful grin, you retorted, "Hey, it's quality over quantity, right? And besides, you're exaggerating. You know way more than just my favorite position." You chuckled watching Natasha’s face and realizing perhaps your attempt at humor wasn't landing as well as you hoped. Natasha's annoyance was palpable, but you couldn't help but find amusement in the situation.

“You’re drunk,” Natasha shook her head.

“I didn’t take you for the passive-aggressive type.” You frowned before biting into another chicken wing.

“Yeah?” Natasha questioned.

“Not at all,” You continued. “Mean. It’s a given. Professional. Check. Flexible even? Though I have only seen it in the gym I’d say that’s a check. But passive-aggressive? Nah.”

Natasha's eyes narrowed slightly as she crossed her arms over her chest, taking a deep breath before speaking. "You know," she began, her voice calm but with an edge, "it's not about being passive-aggressive. It's about boundaries. You waltz into my life, acting like it's all a big joke, and expect me to play along with your whims."

She took a step closer, her expression serious. "I get that you're trying to lighten the mood, but there's a difference between being playful and being dismissive. Just because you find this amusing doesn't mean everyone else does."

Pausing for a moment, she glanced at the mess around you, the half-eaten chicken wings, the lingering scent of barbecue sauce, and then back at your face. "And for the record, knowing someone's 'favorite position' doesn't make a relationship. Respect, understanding, and communication do. Maybe you should think about that before asking for nicknames."

With that, she turned back to her task, her movements deliberate and precise, clearly signaling that the conversation was over.

You swallowed slightly before standing from your seat.

“Have a wing,” You offered.

Natasha paused, her back still turned to you, before letting out a long sigh. "I'm not hungry," she replied tersely, continuing to organize her things. The tension in the room was still there, but you weren't ready to let the conversation end on such a sour note.

"Come on," you said softly, taking a step closer. "I'm trying here. I know I mess up sometimes, but I care about this. Can't we just... have a moment of peace?"

Natasha stopped what she was doing and turned around slowly, her eyes meeting yours. There was a flicker of something in her gaze—maybe curiosity, maybe exhaustion. She hesitated for a moment, then walked over and took a wing from the plate.

"One wing," she said, her tone still guarded. "But this doesn't mean everything's okay."

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Fair enough," you said. "It's a start."

Natasha sat on the bed, her body language still stiff and guarded.

"I'm not as drunk as you think. I'm just feeling really good after a long day,” You shrugged. “You’re kind of a buzzkill.” You add, hoping your comment doesn’t come across the wrong way.

"I'm not a buzzkill," She retorted, her tone defensive. "Also, I thought we were past the insults."

"Of course, you're not a buzzkill, especially not when it comes to people you like," You said. “I don’t make the list so it’s only right if you assert your dominance over me or something. Which if you were my real wife I would have taken care of that already.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Natasha tilted her head.

“I’m not trying to be slapped with a harassment demerit or whatever so I’ll keep my comments to myself,” You stood, standing on the tip of your toes as you stretched. Natasha’s eyes followed your movement for only a second more. “I caught some leads today. There’s a bonfire tomorrow we’re going to. We met a new couple. Though I’m half convinced Leslie is too good to be true. That’s progress.”

“I guess it is,” Natasha relented. “I’m going to hit the shower.”

“Leave me some hot water,” You called after her. You stood in the middle of the room and looked around, lost and confused. What to do now?

As Natasha disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of running water filling the silence, you took a deep breath and decided it was time to fall back into your routine. Years of being a spy had taught you the importance of staying grounded, no matter where you were. You moved with purpose, channeling your focus to maintain a sense of normalcy and readiness.

You quickly checked all the locks and ensured the windows were secure. Double-checking the room for any potential surveillance devices or hidden threats was second nature. Satisfied, you placed a small doorstop under the main entrance for an added layer of security.

You drank a full glass of water and tossed all your trash into the bin.

With the room secure and your immediate tasks completed, you decided it was time to unwind. You picked up a paperback novel from your bag, one of the few comforts you allowed yourself on missions. You settled into the comfortable chair in the corner of the room, the soft lamp casting a warm glow over the pages.

You didn’t know how long it had been, and you didn’t realize you’d fallen asleep. The sound of the shower eventually ceased, and Natasha emerged, looking somewhat more relaxed. She glanced at you and gave a slight nod before heading to her side of the room. You returned her nod with one of your own.

With one last glance around the room to ensure everything was in its place, you turned back to your book, content to spend a few more minutes immersed in its pages before eventually turning in for the night.

You ensured that your shower was as luxurious as the decor suggested. The water temperature was perfect, and the pressure was strong, washing away the grime and tension of the day. You allowed yourself a few moments to enjoy the warmth and relaxation, something you rarely had the luxury to do.

After drying off and changing into comfortable clothing, you took one last glance around the room. Everything was secure and in place, exactly as you left it. The windows were locked, the doorstop was firmly in place, and your equipment was within easy reach.

You glanced over at the bed, where Natasha lay with her back turned toward you, the soft rise and fall of her shoulders indicating she was still awake.

With quiet steps, you approached the bed, the dim light casting soft shadows across the room. You pulled back the covers and slipped in, the cool sheets contrasting with the lingering warmth from your shower. As you settled in, you could feel the tension in the air, a silence hanging between you.

You lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, before finally breaking the silence. "Natasha," you said softly, testing the waters.

She didn't respond immediately, but you could tell she was listening. You waited, giving her the space to speak if she wanted to. After a few moments, her voice cut through the quiet.

"I don't like the nicknames thing," she said, her tone firm but not unkind. "It's not my style."

You turned slightly to face her, even though she remained turned away. "Okay," you replied gently, accepting her words without argument. "I understand."

There was a pause, and you could sense her considering her next words carefully. "It's just... I need things to be straightforward," she continued, her voice softer now. "No games, no pretense."

"I get that. And I'm sorry if I pushed too hard. I just wanted to lighten things up a bit."

Natasha sighed, her shoulders relaxing just a fraction. "I know," she admitted. "But maybe we can find another way."

A small smile tugged at your lips. "Yeah, we can do that."

The silence returned, but this time it felt different—less heavy, more understanding.

“I like the touches,” You spoke. Natasha’s head lifted slightly, and though you couldn’t see her in the darkness, you could tell she was looking at you. “What I mean is, “ You continued, choosing your words carefully. “I am appreciative that you asked me if I was okay with it. Which I am. You’re not creepy or threatening.”

Natasha remained silent for a moment, processing your words. When she spoke, her voice was softer, less guarded. "I'm glad you feel that way. It's important to me that you feel safe."

You nodded, even though she couldn't see it. "I do. I know this whole situation is... unusual, but having clear boundaries and respect makes it easier."

She sighed a sound that conveyed both relief and contemplation. "I guess we're both trying to navigate this the best we can."

"Yeah," You agreed, a sense of mutual understanding settling between you. "And we're getting there, one step at a time."

Natasha turned slightly, her silhouette visible in the dim light filtering through the window. "Let's just keep being honest with each other. It might not make everything perfect, but it will help."

You smiled again, feeling a warm sense of connection. "Deal."

With that, the room fell into a comfortable silence once more.

With that, you closed your eyes, the tension in your body finally easing as you allowed yourself to drift toward sleep, comforted by the small step forward you had taken together.

*************************

The first light of morning barely peeked through the heavy curtains when Natasha woke up. Years of disciplined routine had honed her internal clock to perfection. She moved silently, careful not to disturb the still-sleeping form beside her. Your soft, steady breathing filled the room, a stark contrast to Natasha’s alertness.

She slipped out of bed, her movements precise and efficient. She grabbed her workout clothes from the chair where she had neatly placed them the night before, dressing quickly and quietly. She tied her hair back into a tight ponytail, her mind already shifting into the focused state she reserved for her morning workouts.

As she laced up her sneakers, she glanced back at you. She would offer to wake you but she’d rather not poke the sleeping bear. The last time she done it you’d been grumpy the entire ride to th airport. Besides, she would like to spend some time alone to think about some things.

She grabbed her water bottle and quietly exited the room, the door clicking softly shut behind her. The hotel gym was quite a walk from the bungalows, giving Natasha some time to scope out the place. There were fewer people out than last night which was to be expected. The gym was a well-equipped space that Natasha found surprisingly adequate. She liked to start her day with a combination of cardio and strength training, a routine that kept her body in peak condition and her mind sharp.

She started with a warm-up on the treadmill, the pounding of her feet against the belt synchronizing with her thoughts. She increased the speed, pushing herself into a steady run, her breath coming in controlled, even intervals.

After her cardio, she moved to the free weights, her muscles welcoming the familiar burn. Each lift, each rep, was a show of her strength and determination. The workout was as much for her mind as it was for her body, a way to center herself and prepare for the day.

She ended the workout with stretching. As Natasha sat on one of the floors of the gym hotel her mind drifted to the mission. The bonfire scheduled for later that evening was meant to provide an opportunity to gather more information about the people involved and potentially uncover any hidden agendas. Yet, as she reviewed the events of the past few days, Natasha couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the back of her mind.

So far, nothing had raised suspicion, and Natasha wasn't entirely surprised by that fact. The resort had managed to stay open despite multiple scandals, which suggested that there was more to the operation than met the eye. It was clear that someone was pulling the strings behind the scenes, but identifying who and why remained a challenge.

Natasha's analytical mind raced through the possibilities, considering every angle and scenario. She knew that she couldn't afford to let her guard down, even for a moment. The mission was too important, and the stakes were too high to risk overlooking any potential threats.

*********** You heard the soft click of the hotel room door and rested your head on the pillow once again. Natasha was going to work out at this indecent time, and you weren’t one to stop her. You knew that both of you needed this alone time to stay sane and keep charged. You could understand that your personality was a little strong at times and made a note to yourself to tone it down. The last thing you needed was to be labeled as difficult to work with.

With a sigh, you reached for your phone on the nightstand. As you unlocked the screen, an idea sparked in your mind. Pulling the covers up around you, you quickly snapped a selfie, making sure to capture your bedhead and the early morning light filtering through the curtains. It was a candid moment, one that felt strangely intimate despite the distance between you and Natasha.

You attached a simple message to the photo before hitting send: “Morning vibes. Hope your workout is going well. See you at breakfast?”

Sending the message off, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. It was a small gesture, but one that spoke volumes about the growing rapport between you and Natasha. If someone were to get a hold of your devices, there would be enough evidence to convince them that your fake relationship was real. It was a risk, but one you were willing to take for the sake of the mission.

As you waited for Natasha’s response, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of nervousness. Would she appreciate the gesture, or would she see it as unnecessary? You knew that Natasha was practical and focused, not one for frivolous sentimentality. Still, you hoped that she would understand the underlying message behind the selfie.

When her response finally came, it was short and to the point: “Thanks. Breakfast sounds good.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at her dry response. Leave it to Natasha to cut straight to the chase. But despite the lack of enthusiasm in her message, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, she appreciated the gesture more than she let on.

With a grin on your face, you set your phone back on the nightstand and turned to find sleep again. You would need it.

*********** You met Natasha at the breakfast buffet offered by the resort, a spread that was far better than anything you experienced in most recent times, no offense to Tony. The array of fresh fruit, pastries, and gourmet coffee was impressive, and Natasha couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in appreciation as she filled her plate.

As you settled into a table by the window, you couldn't resist commenting on the breakfast spread. "I have to admit, this beats room service at the Tower any day," you remarked.

Natasha nodded in agreement, though her expression remained neutral. "It's certainly a step up from the usual fare," she replied, her tone cool and composed.

“Don’t get me wrong Tony’s stuff is awesome but it’s nothing like this,” You bite into a piece of crispy bacon. “What do they say about billionaires being cheap again?”

Natasha arched an eyebrow, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes. "I think it's more about being frugal than cheap," she replied, her tone dry. "But I suppose it depends on the billionaire in question."

You chuckled, enjoying the easy banter between you. “How was your workout?”

Natasha looked up from her plate, her expression unreadable. "It was adequate," she replied simply, taking a sip of her coffee.

You nodded, sensing that she wasn't in the mood for small talk. "Fair enough," you replied, deciding not to press the issue further.

The conversation lapsed into a comfortable silence as you both focused on finishing your breakfast.

“I, um, do you cook?” Natasha asked, breaking the silence with a tentative question.

“Of course I do,” You smiled, sensing an opportunity for a topic of conversation. “You can’t enjoy food as much as I do and not be a great cook.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in her expression. “Is that so?” she replied, her tone curious.

You nodded, taking a sip of your coffee before continuing. “Yeah, I actually enjoy cooking. It's a way for me to unwind and relax after a long day. Plus, there's something satisfying about creating a delicious meal from scratch.”

Natasha considered your words for a moment before speaking again. “Funny, I don't think I've ever seen you cook in the Tower,” she remarked, her tone casual but observant.

You chuckled, a sheepish grin spreading across your face. “Well, to be fair, it's not like I had much opportunity to cook there. Tony had a chef on staff, and the rest of the team had their own preferences when it came to meals.”

Natasha nodded, seeming to accept your explanation. “I see,” she replied, though you could tell there was more to her curiosity than she let on.

“Oh, but I have cooked for a few people,” You added. “I've made meals for Wanda and Vision, and Sam on occasion. Monica Rambeau too. Everyone else pretty much does their own thing when it comes to food.”

Natasha's interest was piqued by your mention of cooking for Monica Rambeau. “Monica Rambeau?” she echoed, her tone intrigued.

You nodded, recalling the times you had prepared meals for Monica during her visits to the Tower. “Yeah, she stopped by a few times when she was in town. We had some good conversations over dinner,” you explained, a fond smile playing on your lips.

Natasha's expression softened, but there was a subtle flicker of something in her eyes. “I see,” she replied.

You caught the slight shift in her demeanor but didn’t bother questioning it. You didn’t want to ruin a good thing.

The conversation ended there as you were interrupted by the arrival of another couple, who approached the table with eager smiles. The man, Marcus, was tall and well-dressed, while the woman, Anna, exuded an air of sophistication that seemed at odds with the casual beach resort setting. They were slightly younger than you and Natasha, and their enthusiasm for the resort was evident in their animated conversation.

"Good morning! Mind if we join you?" Marcus asked, his tone friendly but a little too eager.

Natasha exchanged a glance with you before gesturing to the empty chairs opposite them. "Please, have a seat," she replied politely, though her guard was already up.

“I’m Anna and this is my husband, Marcus Blattler.” Anna waved from her seat.

“I’m Alexis and this is Joan,” You greeted back kindly. “Nice to meet you both.”

"So, how are you two enjoying your stay so far?" Anna asked, her smile bright and sincere.

You shared a quick look with Natasha before answering, "Oh, it's been wonderful. The resort is beautiful, and the staff have been incredibly accommodating."

Natasha nodded in agreement, her tone perfectly measured. "Yes, we've been thoroughly impressed with the amenities and the level of service."

Marcus leaned in, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. "And what brings you to the resort? Are you celebrating a special occasion?"

"Actually, we're here on a sort of mini-vacation," You replied smoothly, your smile never faltering. " Our first anniversary as a married couple. Just taking some time to relax and unwind."

Anna's eyes widened with interest. "That sounds lovely! Do you two come here often?"

"Oh, this is our first time here," You replied, a note of casualness in your tone. "But we've heard such great things about the resort that we couldn't resist giving it a try."

“Yeah, so far it’s been great,” Natasha played along.

Anna's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Have you two heard about the bonfire they have here every week? It’s tonight," she asked, her voice tinged with excitement. "It's such a romantic setting, with the firelight dancing on the beach and the sound of the waves in the background. It's one of the highlights of our stay here."

You and Natasha exchanged a glance, inwardly relieved that Anna had shifted the conversation to a more innocuous topic. "Actually, we haven't heard much about it," you replied, feigning ignorance. "But it sounds lovely. Maybe we'll have to check it out tonight."

Marcus nodded enthusiastically. "You definitely should! It's a great way to unwind after a day of activities. Plus, you never know who you might meet around the fire," he added with a wink.

Natasha's interest was piqued by Marcus's mention of meeting new people. "Oh, really?" she asked, her tone carefully neutral. "Do you and Anna go to the bonfire often?"

Anna smiled, her gaze lingering on Natasha momentarily longer than necessary. "Oh, we're regulars," she replied, her tone casual but her eyes betraying a hint of something more. "It's a great way to meet other couples and make new friends. You never know who you might run into."

“Well count us in,” You smiled. “Now that you mentioned it, an older couple by the pool yesterday informed us about the bonfire. I really hope it lives up to the hype.”

“Great. It will.” Anna nodded. As the conversation with Anna and Marcus continued, you couldn't help but notice Anna's overwhelming enthusiasm and friendliness. "So, y'all are celebrating your anniversary here?" She chirped, her smile bright and infectious. "Isn’t that just the sweetest thing!"

You chuckled at her energy, finding it endearing yet slightly overwhelming. "Yeah, we figured a beach getaway would be the perfect way to celebrate," you replied, your smile mirroring hers.

Natasha nodded in agreement, though her expression remained guarded. "It's been a pleasant escape from the hustle and bustle of city life," she added, her tone polite but distant.

Anna's eyes widened with excitement. "Oh, I just love a good beach vacation!" she exclaimed, her southern drawl becoming more pronounced. "There's just somethin' about the ocean air and the sound of the waves that soothes the soul, don't y'all think?"

You nodded, impressed by Anna's enthusiasm for the beach. "Absolutely," you agreed, silently noting the warmth and sincerity in her voice. "There's nothing quite like it."

“Well, we’re going to let y’all get back to your day,” Marcus excused the two of them, his tone friendly but with a hint of urgency. “Anna and I are going to go ahead and find us an excursion.”

Anna leaned forward, her smile bright and inviting. “Why don’t we exchange numbers?” she suggested, her southern accent adding a charming lilt to her words.

“Sure, that sounds like a good idea,” you replied, pulling out your phone and exchanging numbers with Anna and Marcus.

Natasha followed suit, her movements precise and controlled as she entered Anna and Marcus's contact information into her phone. Despite her reservations, she remained polite and composed, unwilling to give Anna and Marcus any reason to suspect that something was amiss.

As you exchanged pleasantries and bid Anna and Marcus farewell, you turned slightly back to Natasha.

“Is it me or does it seem we’re the only new couple,” You asked.

“Hmm, no, I see it too,” Natasha glanced subtly around the room. “It could be we simply haven’t met other first-timers. Might be something to take note of.”

“Got it, boss,” You nodded. The bonfire was only eight hours away. You were excited to see what was in store.

[sombrashe]

content afab!reader, chubby!reader, josh and reader are in an established relationship, cunnilingus

note(s) until dawn is actually a game about a polycule falling out | sam is just kinda there but both josh and reader thinks shes fine af

Josh’s voice is soft as he calls up to Sam. You’re spread out on the sectional couch listening to their short conversation as Josh tends to the fireplace in front of you. The television above drones on quietly in the background. Stretching you blink slowly at him, Sam’s response coming back after a short pause.

“I’m going to take a quick shower before we head out.”

“Oh, well, do you need any help? Maybe with your hair?”

The last comment is a mumble and you scoff making your way over to the minx. When he finally notices your presence you lightly smack his chest with the back of your hand. He feigns hurt with a well-placed hand over his wounded heart.

“What, you want me to go up there and ask her to join us?”

His eyelids widen for a moment before relaxing.

“Really?”

“As if, like you’d be able to focus”

Honestly, Sam is gorgeous and you wouldn't mind her joining your personal soiree. Unfortunately for you, Josh gets distracted easily and your last threesome ended with you unsatisfied after he got overwhelmed. Dancing your fingers over his shoulder blade you take in the heat dancing in the air. Pulling yourself away you plop back down onto the couch and bounce a little as you settle in. Dragging a blanket over your lap you feel the fluffiness beneath your fingertips. The loft feels nice and cozy especially with the autumn chill settling over the city. Making his way over to your spot he crouches in front of you with a wolfish grin. Pulling the blanket slowly off your legs you watch him with thin lips. Keeping your protests to yourself as you assess exactly what his plan is. Finally, he leaves the blanket in a pile on the floor next to him. With gentle hands on your knees, he starts slowly pushing them apart so he can watch your dress slide up your thighs.

“Joshua Washington I didn't spend hours getting ready just for you to undo it all with this spiked libido.”

He gives you a simple chuckle and kisses the inside of your plush thigh. Huffing you shift to give him better access. He licks a stripe from his spot against your skin to your lace bottoms. A cute black thong he bought you for your anniversary months ago. Something you didn't have a chance to wear until now. And he absolutely loved it. He gives you a little growl as he creates a wet spot right against your clothed pussy. You want to argue with him, claim if he does this you’ll have to take a shower and you three will be late for dinner. A weekly occurrence, something Josh would rather die than miss. You know better. He won’t leave a mark that you don’t beg him to. Once his spit soaks through you're panting like a dog in heat. Something something he has you wrapped around his finger. Whatever quote Emily scoffs at you every time you have to hang up because he's grinding against your full ass. You couldn't care less, especially when he starts hitting that sweet spot deep in you. Hooking his thumbs into the legs of the lace you raise your hips to allow him easier removal of the infuriating fabric. Once he pulls them down around your ankles he claps his hands together excitement glowing in his brilliant irises.

“Here’s Joshy”

“Did you just quote Psycho at my vagina?”

He immediately looks at you genuinely appalled.

“You're not being serious.”

“You know I can never sit through those old movies, they have such long intros.”

“I really don’t know if we can continue. Psycho. God”

“Josh, I’m sorry I got Psycho and The Shining mixed up. If it’s any consolation I was thinking of the 1960 version and not that Bates Motel shit I know you hate.”

He takes a moment to think it over before responding. A long moment too and it has you shifting.

“You saved yourself with that.”

He taps his pointer finger against your knee during his response. Diving forward his tongue easily finds your clit. Surprise and pleasure flood your veins at the same time and it leaves you lightheaded. Gripping a fistful of dark hair at the back of his head you press him closer to your core. Forcing two fingers beneath his chin he slips them inside your soaked core. Wiggling them he’s limited in the amount of room he has to thrust. Focusing on using the tips of his fingers he slightly moves them in and out while pressing hard against that spongy part inside of you.

“Oh~ Josh, fuck.”

“I got you, babe.”

His voice is muffled but you hear him clear as a bell. Huffing you weakly grind yourself against his face feeling his prominent nose press against the fat of your lower stomach. Letting your head fall back against the back of the couch you relish in the moment. Pleasure floods your abdomen and you can feel it tighten as you get closer to release. He alternates between short licks and hard sucks. Something that works in his favor as the coil in your abdomen finally snaps and you flood his chin and fingers in your essence. Panting you leave your eyes closed for a few moments as you attempt to catch your breath. Pulling out of you with a slick pop you nearly jump out of your skin as something pops against your chest. Blinking, you see Sam handing Josh a towel for his soaked limbs. Looking down you take the fresh pair of underwear in your hands and slip it around your ankles. Grabbing the towel out of the air as Josh tosses it to you you take a moment to clean yourself up before pulling the dark blue thong up your legs and settling it snugly against you. Fixing your dress you give Sam an apologetic smile.

“Hope you two worked up an appetite.”

[urcatslitterbox]

Having thigh job brain rot

Ok so like I have some thicker thighs and I can’t stop thinking about these guys having their first thigh job.

Bucky

Bucky has always been obsessed with your thighs. He just loves how soft and squishy they are and thinks they’re perfect.

He especially loves biting them and leaving wet opened mouth kisses on them when eating you out.

So when you blurted out in the midst of a hot and heavy make out session that you wanted him to fuck them, he thought he had died and gone to heaven.

Spreading some lube on his length and your thighs, he held them together against his front as you laid on the bed

The moment his leaky tip slid through the plush flesh of your thighs his head fell back as he let out a strangled groan.

Yep, definitely in heaven.

“Fuck doll, look at how much prettier your thighs look with my cock between em”

He couldn’t get enough, slowly sliding his cock between your thighs. Hitting your clit with every stroke.

He fucked them nice and slow, wanting to savour the feeling of your soft, warm skin against his wet cock.

“Such perfect fucking thighs baby. All mine.”

Eventually though, it became too much for him.

He started to fuck your thighs with a newfound desire. The only thing on his mind was the thought of covering you in his cum.

His thoughts driving him to fuck your thighs so hard that the bed frame was repeatedly hitting the wall.

He could feel himself getting closer, his previously steady pace faltering.

“Mm fuck gonna cum doll, you want me to cum all over you huh? Gonna c- fuck, cover you in my cum, make such a mess, ah shit!”

Bucky came all over your bare stomach and chest panting as he came down. He let your legs fall on either side of him.

“Look at the mess you made me make doll.”

Steve

Oh sweet Stevie. He isn’t the most experienced man out there, so when you brought up wanting to try giving him a thigh job, he was confused as to how exactly it would work.

After explaining it to him he agreed with a deep red coating his face and neck.

“Oh well I suppose we could give it a try sweetheart.”

The moment he had finished his sentence you were on him.

Pulling his pants down along with yours before kneeling in front of him.

“W-wait, but I thought we were-“

“Gotta get you wet first so you can fuck my thighs Stevie.”

You cut him off, then at his understanding nod you took his heavy cock into your mouth moaning at his taste.

Steve sighed at the feeling of your warm, wet mouth enveloping him. He’d never had a blowjob before you, but he was sure that you were an expert with the way you worked his cock in your mouth.

After getting him nice and wet, you pulled him onto his bed and helped him to position himself so he could properly fuck your thighs.

Steve inhaled sharply as he slid between your thighs.

It felt so much better than he imagined. You never fail to make him feel new kinds of pleasure he never thought possible.

He began to slowly thrust, but that changed quickly as it just felt too goddamn good.

“Oh god, feels s’good sweets.”

His hips started to stutter as he neared his end much too quickly.

“Fuck! M’not gonna last, wanna cum already baby, just feels too good.”

He pulled back just in time to cum all over your thighs making a mess as he moaned loudly.

“S-steve what are you doing?”

He laid down on his front pulling you closer before licking his spend off your thighs, inching his way closer to your soaked core.

“Cleaning up my girl. I made a mess on her, and looks like she made one too.”

He teased before delving into your wet folds.

Omg I need them to fuck my thighs ARGH

[kingkunigami]

This is entirely Ari and Jaspers fault. I’m actually insane for this man.

Pairing: Oliver Aiku x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, cunnilingus.

There’s something about the way Oliver Aiku’s stubble tickles your ear when he leans down to whisper against it that has your cunt throbbing with desire. It’s the salaicious implication behind it as his warm breath fans against your skin and you feel him pressed against your hip, a subtle indication that he might actually be good at it.

But he’s pathetic really, especially paired with the sheer audacity he holds that thought he could get away with asking you such a crude question. It’s enough having to deal with him on and off the pitch as one of the team administrators, but this? You weren’t drunk enough for this—

“Do you wanna suck my cock?”

It had been the last thing you’d expected to hear when he’d pressed his lips to your ear, and you should’ve walked away at that alone. There were more than enough men in this dirty dive bar that would at least have better small talk at bare fucking minimum.

“No.” You scrunched your nose in irritation, already intent on walking away.

“Aw come on,” He grins, taking a sip of his beer, “Don’t be like that, sweetheart.”

The pet name should’ve been his second strike, so why were you still here?

“I’m not your sweetheart,” You shot him a smile back, full of faux sincerity.

“But you could be,” He grinned.

“Nah, I don’t think I could.”

“You always act like you hate me.” He pouts, and you have to stop your heart from squeezing at how adorable he looks— you have to stay strong.

“Yeah, it’s an act.” You reply sarcastically, rolling your eyes as you down the rest of your drink.

That’s why you hate yourself for where you are now, legs spread while Oliver looks at you like the cat that got the cream. Licking his lips as he peels your sticky panties to the side, eyes sparkling in delight as he notices the wet patch that stains the fabric.

“Knew you were lying,” He scoffs, “Were you this wet when you were talking to me, huh?”

“Shut up,” You sneer, scrunching your nose in frustration.

“That’s not very nice, is it?” He presses a wet, sloppy kiss to your inner thigh.

And the moment you feel the rough stubble graze your thighs, it’s game over. Legs lock around his head to cage him in, chasing the sensation as you shamelessly wiggle your inner thighs against the side of his face.

“I haven’t even touched you yet, sweetheart.” He grins, large palms dipping into the plush of your thighs as he prizes them open like a cherished gift.

He licks his lips in anticipation as he ogles your sex, revealing just how wet and ready you are for him��� strings of your slick glisten against you invitingly and it only boosts his ego knowing that it’s all for him.

“Prettiest fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever seen.” He speaks, and you’re unsure whether it’s to you or him, but it doesn’t stop your clit from pulsing in response. The swollen nub desperate for attention as you writhe beneath his grip, Oliver’s warm breath that fans against it not nearly enough as you feel pleas sitting on the tip of your tongue.

But you’re determined not to stoop so low, to give his ego even more of a boost. He’s shameless enough as it is, with the cocky curl of his lip as he deliberately hovers inches from your slit.

“At least this pussy’s fucking honest,” He chuckles, “Look how much she wants me.” And it’s enough to have you weaving a hand through his messy mop of hair as your nails drag against his scalp. Twisting at the root to hold him steady as you buck your hips, pushing his face into your eager cunt.

His lips smash against your clit, giving it some needed relief as you whine in satisfaction. Your body convulsing as your eyes roll back into your skull, pleasure shoots through your veins like he’s an addictive drug and you’re certain you won’t recover.

But it’s the way his rough stubble grazes the sensitive skin that has you crumbling, your toes curl as you turn into the needy, desperate slut he’d said you were—

“Fuck,” He groans, muffled by your cunt as he slurps and guzzles your slick like he’s picked the ripest peach, “You’re such a mess.”

It’s debauched, and borderline depraved as you feel a mixture of his spit and your slick drool between the curve of your ass. Slurping it into his mouth before spitting it back down against your messy slit, positive there’s a puddle beneath you as Oliver continues to ruin you.

You’re certain you won’t survive— the flat of his tongue swipes from your tight rim as he works the length of you, all the way to the top as you feel the rough stubble on his chin tickle your clit. Oliver repeats the motion, as though he knows it’s exactly what you want. And perhaps it is— the sensation has you crying out for him as you shamelessly fuck his face. Chasing the sensation of his beard against your slit as you let the friction catch your clit, feeling the familiar throb swirl in your abdomen as you feel yourself teetering on the edge of bliss.

And he knows from the telltale way your thighs begin to shudder and your hole begins to pulse as he weaves a hand around your thighs to press down on your pelvis. Increasing the pressure and pulling the hood of your clit back as he nuzzles your cunt, bristling against you as you find yourself crying out for him. Reduced to a pathetic, debauched mess as he stares up at you from between your clenching thighs.

Oliver works you through your climax, his tongue prods your leaking hole greedily after as though to taste his victory. Pressing a final, lingering kiss to your over sensitive clit as he pulls back with a cocky grin. The mess of your climax now threaded through the fuzz on his chin as he shamelessly wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Still gonna act like you hate me, sweetheart?”